Thursday, 31 January 2013

I've been thinking...

I've been thinking today. About us as a human race. About what makes us tick and move and interact and be.

We're essentially a mesh of skin and bones and blood and organs and all the little things in between. A scientifically proven complexity of different functions all working together to create this one thing... Humanity.

But we're also more than that. In amongst all the physical workings and basic needs that one human needs to exist, there's this other element. This even more complex and completely unfathomable notion of emotion. We feel and we love and we need and adore and hate and have indifference to all manners of things that are external to us but which contributes to what makes us, us. Having this extra layer of functionality or dysfunctionality, whichever way you want to look at it, we move on from not just existing but living.

And living involves so much more than we will ever even begin to understand. It causes us to live outside of ourselves and reach out to those around us, drawing in the personalities that we are attracted to for friendships and relationships, it allows us to bond and find meaning in others' opinions and beliefs. It allows us to form our own personalities out of all the things that have influenced us throughout our lives.

We can have one seemingly innocent conversation with a stranger and form whole relationships out of it. We learn to trust and love and, as we grow older, we learn what it is to be hurt and let down by those bonds of love. We cry and fall down and feel pain and suffering. We question why and try to form reason out of the hurt we feel.

We learn to forgive and do what we can to forget and sometimes we can do just that, forget and dust ourselves off and not think of it again except in a memory that later we can roll our eyes at and wonder why we had let such a thing upset us in the first place.

But sometimes it's harder. Sometimes the hurt can harden and cause us to question our own selves and the way we come across. Sometimes we never quite are the same after that hurt. There are parts of us that are wary of allowing people into those areas of our hearts that have been damaged by others.

Most times however, we show our resilience, dust ourselves off and let people in once more. And the next time, perhaps it doesn't hurt as much. Our attachment instead just grows, we love deeper, maybe get married and grow old with that person.

But the act of allowing a person in to that extent can seem scary, something that feels like it comes at too high a price. We remember all the failed relationships in the past, remember the things about ourselves that caused people to walk away. What if this new relationship formed ends the same way? Suddenly that relationship we crave so much becomes the thing we're most scared of. The act of letting someone in, opens up the possibility of them rejecting us.

I've yet to know what it feels like to fall in love with someone. Hell, I've yet to know what it feels like to just share my time with someone. But I have loved. My heart is spread out between my friends and my family. I know what it's like to feel hurt when they hurt and laugh when they laugh.

I also know what it's like to lose those that I've loved. To suddenly be cut off from a friendship that I considered precious and so, so crucial to me. I look at those and wonder why it is that I continue to let people in and love all over again.

And then I remember why, I'm human. We all are. And for some inexplicable reason that means we keep on going. Which, when I really think about it, is pretty awesome.

Peace out my lovelies.

Thursday, 3 January 2013

I like today. Today can happen again tomorrow if it likes...

Today has started out and continued as it usually does.

I woke up ten minutes before I had to leave the house and ran around trying to find clothes that fit and deodorant that would last all day before sprinting out the door with a passing wave at Mr-Host as I went.

Once I was at work, I sat and I typed and I joked with Line-Manager-Monica. She bragged about going on holiday next week and I starting bragging about going away for 6 whole months. She then stopped bragging and said that if she had to listen to me brag about that for the next 5 months then she would have to put me under disciplinary proceedings. I, of course, laughed at this until I realised she seemed pretty silent and stern faced and my laughter began to take on a nervous twang before stopping and I started up typing again, muttering my apologies as I did. It was a pretty normal day.

I did have one really sucky moment today however when I quickly checked the clock, realised that I had in fact stayed overtime as per usual, shut everything down and grabbed my bag to leave. I said goodbye to Line-Manager-Monica when she looked at me quizzically.

"Um Lisa," she said. "What time is it?"

I nodded guiltily and held up my hands.

"I know, I stayed late again today. I'm sorry, I'll try and leave on time tomorrow."

Line-Manager-Monica looked at me expectantly, her eyebrows raised. Her eyes then drifted to the clock behind me, hinting for me to do the same. I followed her gaze and that beautiful elated and freeing feeling I usually feel when I know that my day is almost over, sank to the bottom of my stomach. I'd read the time wrong. It was a whole hour earlier than I had thought it was.

"Oh." I said, and turned back to look at Line-Manager-Monica, a deep pout firm on my face. "But I have my coat on and everything!"

She simply tilted her head and went back to her computer. "Looks like you're going to have to take it off again then, aren't you?"

Needless to say, I kept my pout for the remainder of that hour, although I did manage to get a lot done, so I gave myself a little pat on the back for that.

When I did eventually leave, the journey home was also the same as it had been the day before. I sat on trains and buses and listened to my Ben Folds playlist whilst congratulating myself on getting to that point with a new playlist where I was beginning to be able to sing along with the lyrics... the other people on said trains and buses didn't seem in the same congratulating mood however... I guess they had just had tough days, poor things.

Getting home however was when my day got lovely.

First off, I had a thought walking up to the McDonalds I walk past on my way to and from work each day. This thought was; "ooh, I'm hungry, if I got just a double cheeseburger and chicken snack wrap then that would be cheap enough to constitute the spending of money, right?" Now, usually when I have thoughts such as these, especially when there is a fast food restaurant within my vicinity, I pretty much am powerless to stop these thoughts from turning into actions. As such, the closer I reached the McDonalds entrance, the stronger I felt my resolve get. However, by some strike of what I can only assume is a modern day miracle, my feet magically kept on walking past the entrance door, directing me home and away from the fast food temple of doom.

I know a lot of you might be thinking that this doesn't really seem like a big thing, and it probably shouldn't be deemed as a big thing in the grand scheme of things, but unfortunately, for a person like me who has never quite understood the concept of will power in her entire life, this felt as I had just discovered a new element, named it after me and won the nobel prize... much like Daniela Davids (who's Daniela Davids? I hear you cry? Well find out here).

Anywho, I was very happy with myself by the time that I got home this evening which led to even more happiness as I entered my new little home, currently owned by a scrumptious family that I am staying with consisting of Mr-Host, Mrs-Host, The-Thirteen-Year-Old, The-Eleven-Year-Old and The-Five-Year-Old, or collectively known as The-Family.

I opened the door to a wave of laughter and joking about and found The-Family eating in the dining room. Mr-Host immediately offered me a cup of tea, Mrs-Host offered me food and before I knew it I was joining in with this family fun. I sat and watched as the kids joked about the proper way of pronouncing Haagen Dazs and helped The-Thirteen-Year-Old load the dishwasher.

I then sat with The-Five-Year-Old and read her stories, one of which being my favourite story when I was her age. Mrs-Host was doing a crossword puzzle and I attempted (and failed miserably) to help her answer any of the questions. When The-Five-Year-Old was sent to bed, she gave me the biggest hug that has ever been and ran off with Mrs-Host.

I then showered and realised something... I had missed this. I had missed the enjoyment of being part of a family. Don't get me wrong, I have an amazing family of my own, two amazing parents and two pretty awesome brothers, but we're all grown up now and living far from each other. This though, nights like this... wow. They are so much fun and allow you to feel so loved and warm and fuzzy inside.

I've loved the freedom of my own place. I've loved the way it has helped me grow, I've loved the independence it has given me and the confidence that I've gained in knowing what I want in life rather than what is expected of me... however, sometimes I think I've taken it too far. I've enjoyed being alone a little too much. I spend every evening alone in my house, I barely go out or socialise anymore... and yes it's got a lot to do with the fact that large groups of people make me want to shake uncontrollably and search for the nearest toilet, hoping and praying that The Bloggess isn't already hiding in there. But today I realised that not all social interaction is bad... actually I'm pretty sure that most social interaction isn't bad but you know what I mean.

Anywho, I'm content this evening... this evening I've realised that I get to spend the next five months not only living with The-Family but part of The-Family, and for that I am extremely grateful for them...

... sometimes, people are just awesome.

Peace out my lovelies

Wednesday, 2 January 2013

Okay, so I admit it. I may not be as good at DIY as I have claimed.

Okay, so Monday I had a moment to reflect on my life as we were about to enter a new year. I sat on the edge of my bed and looked on at my new room, my third room that I had had in as many years and saw all the boxes and bin bags littering the floor. I tried to move from my bed to get to the door and almost tripped over about three times... I knew then what I had to do... A month into living at my new home, I realised it was probably time for me to unpack.

For the first time since moving in and forming this realisation, I actually found myself not following this thought with an almighty fatigue and a decision to instead bury myself underneath my covers and applying the age old rule of "if I can't see it then it's not really there." Instead, I found what I believe the kids are calling "energy." Yes, I responded to my realisation finally with a can-do attitude and earnestly went on the search for a black bin bag and some wine.

Once I had my necessities in place, I briefly wondered what it is that I should be starting with... There was a lot to choose from, let me tell you. I decided on the big things like rearranging my furniture so that I actually had places to put the unpacked goodies awaiting me.

This meant moving my chest of drawers, the air conditioning unit that came with the room (apparently it gets pretty hot in there during the summer) and my desk.

Now, my lovely and scrumptious hosts of my new house (I'm living with a family I know whilst I save money to go to America in July) had beautifully put up my desk whilst I was at my parents for Christmas as I had mentioned that I had the flat pack with me but no longer had any instructions. Guys, I am not one of those people who say "be damned with the instructions! I am DIY Woman!! I can put this together with just the creativeness of my mind and it will look exactly as it should!!" However, Mr-Host is that person... Minus the woman part and he had magically figured out how it was meant to go.

At this point I should probably mention that The-Family I am staying with had gone away for three days and as such, I was home alone when I had decided to be so pro-active with my room. Just keep that in mind as we will be coming back to this later.

Anywho, in order to put my desk where I wanted I needed to move the air conditioning unit and chest of drawers. Being a person who lives in England and so has never had a need for an air conditioning unit in my life, I figured that I could just place the unit on my bed whilst I dealt with the chest of drawers.

This is where we hit mistake No. 1. I lay the air conditioning unit down and make a move to leave my bed when I noticed some form of liquid dripping off my bed sheets. I immediately try and remember if I had been outside that day as whether it had been raining whilst I had been... When I found my memory coming up blank I quickly deduced that the liquid was not coming from me and noted that it did seem to be coming from the air conditioning unit laying flat on my bed.

I dashed to lift the unit off my bed and then found my next problem being that I had put the unit on the bed due to the lack of space currently on my floor... This led to me skipping on the spot with a now dripping air conditioning unit and nowhere to go.

Eventually I managed to navigate myself around the bags and boxes and practically fell into my wardrobe as I wedged it into the corner in what was the only space at that time available to me.

This of course then led to me running around with kitchen towels, trying my hardest to soak up all of the dirty water that had somehow managed to spread over all of the things in my room.

Once I had managed that situation, changed my clothes, taken a quick trip to buy new bed sheets for my single bed and finished making all manners of scrunched up expressions with my face, I faced the chest of drawers.

Moving this was pretty simple, albeit a little more difficult given that clothes had been one of the only things I had actually successfully unpacked and so it was the teensiest bit heavy. But it's fine, we deal, because I'm secretly capable of super strength.

Now I had the space available to move my desk into.

Reeling from the success of my moving my chest of drawers, I flexed my muscles once more and began the movement of my desk.

It didn't go as planned.

As I mentioned above, I was home alone so I couldn't go with the safe option if lifting and placing, instead I went with the solo option of dragging and hoping.

I dragged.

I hoped.

One side of the desk came with me, the other decided to stay where it was.

For those of you who are now imagining that the desk in question looks like this:

Alas, this is not the case. Instead, my desk looks like this:

Yeah... so you see that section of the desk without the bottom attached? That's the section I pulled, that's the section that came with me, the other bit? Not so much. It was quite happy where it was and so wanted to stay. And stay it did while half of the desk decided to wobble apprehensively. However the damage had been done and you see that little white bit of board underneath the main desk behind the pull out shelf? That bit decided to just go ahead and fall out on one side.

Now it was at this point that I managed to rebalance it, step back, scratch my head and re-assess. My conclusion? Well, I didn't want to take the whole thing apart. Especially given that Mr-Host was not in the house nor was anyone else and I was certain that I would not know how to put it back together should I try said dismantling.

So I then had the ingenious idea that all I need to was take the top half off, re-insert the white board and put it back on again. I know right? That is such a fool-proof idea it is abosultely impossible that anything could ever go wrong.

So I go ahead and unscrew the left side. The left board falls away and suddenly common sense hits me like... well, like a bunch of planks of wood. I watched as the left side of the desk started to collapse and immediately threw my whole body underneath it to prevent it from doing so... crisis averted! Yeay me! My genious DIY status was left intact... until I realised that there really was nowhere I could go from this position.

You see, behind me was the unending clutter of boxes and bin bags... in front of me was my desk immediately followed by a wall. I couldn't lay the desk down, I couldn't get to the right side to dismantle that side... I was well and truly stuck.

I began to panic by this point. I actually sat there for about five minutes running through all kinds of scenarios in my head on how I was going to work my way out of this situation. None of the scenarios actually resulted in any result other than the desk falling on me and either myself or it dying... or in one particular scenario including me somehow forming a pile of random crap big enough to support the left side of my desk and it falling on me with the desk following suit, we both died... I was not feeling hopeful.

So naturally I decided that the only logical step left for me was to sit there and cry out "help!" until a random neighbour might have heard me, knocked down the door and rescued me from my inevitable fate of death. Believe it or not, no one came. After a couple of minutes of calling out, I resorted to sitting in a more comfortable position (or as comfortable as one can get whilst supporting a heavy desk) and wimpering to myself.

I looked longingly at my phone sitting on the other side of the room, merrily playing 'Let me blow your mind' from Eve, and wondered if there was anyway that I might be able to reach it and call for help. However, then I had to deal with the issue of them getting into the house I was in when I was on the third floor. Perhaps I should just forego calling the friends and jump straight to the firemen...

The last thought I had, and the one that seemed the most likely, was that I would just have to wait until either One-And-Only-Daniela turned up that night to celebrate the new year (this plan also included One-And-Only-Daniela having to scale the side of my house to the skylight in my room, smashing the window and jumping in like some form of ninja...) or I would just have to wait until The-Family returned the following day.

So I repositioned myself and settled in for the most bizarre seeing in of the new year ever, me stuck under a desk, trying to keep the blood flow going through my arms and trying my hardest not to fall asleep... Fun.

I'll be honest, I tried it for about three minutes before I got extremely bored and my arms threatened to fall off. This was when the burst the adrenaline entered my system that I heard always heard occurred in life threatening situations just as this... I therefore contorted my body in a way I thought I was no longer able to do and simultaneously held up one side of the desk whilst I bent around and unscrewed the other two planks of wood.

After that, needless to say, I sat, basked in my freedom and drank some of my wine before I then started in on the task of getting the top end of the desk back on it's stands. I think I did pretty well in that area... I mean yes, there were a few aggressive words said to the desk like "Why the hell won't you just go in?" and "I don't know what you want from me? What am I doing wrong?" and yes, there was a lot of banging and forcing of wood together (I'm still talking about the desk here people, clean minds please). But I consider it a success when the desk eventually sticks together and (more importantly) stays together...


Okay, so there may be two little holes in the desk that seem to suggest they need something attached to it... but they're tiny so I'm choosing to ignore them...


Anywho, that's been my new year... much love and stuff and HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Peace out my lovelies