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  1. Have loved lurking in on this thread! I am part of the last standing old romantics team here and one of the characterises of being romantic and a traditionalist is part of it doesn’t make any logical sense but you still do it anyway! Meeting the woman of your dreams and saying hey babe I can’t wait to cohabit with your for the rest of my life or sign a prenup just doesn’t have the same breathless vibe as this is the girl for me over the shoulder you go let’s get hitched and make 10,000 babies and I’d die for you a thousand times over with glee 😉 here have everything I own what’s yours is mine! I always think when you truly meet someone who blows you away you do anything to almost make sure that person knows they are eternally loved by you and you darn well sure they are not going to be getting away by having a better offer walk past! There is something also, can I say, weirdly sexy, in an explicit ownership vibe, when as a woman you take on your husbands last name. It almost symbolises leaving girlhood and entering his world and becoming part of his family and also creating your own unit together. When someone is introduced as “this is my wife” or “this is my husband” we all know how serious that is. When someone says “this is my partner” or “this is my girlfriend” I think most people when honest don’t take those titles as seriously, even if the couple have lived together for 20 years compared to the married couple of 5. It must be a serious proposition still, marriage, or why the discussion and reluctance? We know in our culture it still holds gravitas. If you really love a woman, get down on your knee boy, and if you don’t, I imagine the right one at the right time may just make them weak enough to give you no option 😉 But again, no use to the OP, just giving you my Gone With The Wind notions hahahahaha! Best of luck, romance and dreaming isn’t totally dead, Lo x
  2. Been thinking a lot like I do and especially when I get melancholy. I don't know why some people seem to like me. Through all my obvious faults and ravings and selfishness. Why and how? I swear, it sometimes seems almost sexual. I get some kind of sexual tension vibe going on. This is often from girls. I once met another Mum who had lolled casually in her arms what looked like a small baby but on instant second glance was obviously older but had something developmentally wrong. Wrongly or rightly, I felt pity well up from my stomach teamed with a kind of revulsion for this hippy lady before me. She was a bit younger looking than me, sloppy and messy, her pram seat covered in crumbs and food and the wheels I saw, a lovely lick of dog poo nudged into the treads. Bra strap slumped down over her shoulder, dark red hair scooped up in a hurried banana clip with spiked straight pieces poking and spilling out the gaps of the plastic. Bright blue eye makeup smudged on, odd miss matched, brightly coloured socks, rock climbing trainers. We got talking like chalk and cheese. I knew she was very friendly and my first impression of her was; childlike, but extremely lovely and kind, and I felt bad for how I felt towards her. I didn't feel worthy talking to her. I definitely didn't plan on becoming friends. I knew she was a better person than me straight away. I wasn't hesitant because of her son or how she looked, that didn't really matter to me really, but, I knew our personalities were a million solar systems away. She had this innocence to her, it kinda hit you in the face, made you want to take her in, shield her forever and also warn her of the perils of life all at once. She attached herself to me like I was a celebrity and she was heading up the fan club. Everytime I went to the library with my son and my brand new lil baby girl, she would shower me endlessly and embarrassingly with over the top, gushing compliments. She wanted my advice and opinion on everything. She tried to copy me. It pained me. It made me dreadfully sad. She got taking to calling me which I liked at first, never had someone who wanted to talk to me for hours over the phone but it started feeling like she was getting something from me I knew nothing about and I was left feeling as if I'd paid out or something weird. Besides the point, I once told her she shouldn't ever put herself down because honestly, you are really great and pretty and don't ever feel you are less than that. I really meant it as well. She did have a natural, unaware and carefree beauty. Sometimes, I would find myself wishing I was more like her, wanting her advice, kind of, envying her life in some ways, but it was always mixed with this horrible pity and I just knew I couldn't pity a true friend. And why should she have my pity anyway?! She probably pitied me. I was no better than her in any way. The dynamic was all wrong. She once turned to me and said, joyously, with these girlie crush eyes all big and lit up that, "It's very rare you meet someone as exciting as you." I didn't know what to say. I've had some blinders in my time but exciting, I don't think I am. I have been told glamorous, but for some reason, I never really take that as the compliment it is intended to be. It always makes me think "glamorous = conceited" and they have seen right through me all at once into my shallow soul. The bitter part of all of this is we fell out, like I always do with pretty much every other mother I've ever met or who kind of, attaches themselves too me. It wasn't even her fault. It never is. She was just being her. She had her opinions, I had mine, they didn't match on certain things and one day I cruelly told her I didn't want to hear it and that was that. A couple of rainy, dull months passed. I knew she would be manically and addictively running every morning and would stop when she got to our house. I found a wet envelope fallen in front of our door one morning. It was a card from her. In childish scrawl: "I hope you are well. Thinking of you, love...." and she had doodled in her naive and innocent style a basic picture of her, her husband and her son, waving. I can't tell you how sad it made me feel. After our argument and how wrong I had been, she still wanted to be there and talk with me and send me her silly drawings and honestly, it just broke my heart. I knew we would never work but it made me think, it's not her, it's me. I'm the problem. I'm the childish one. Too proud to write her back. All she ever said was, "You're so cool, you're so cool..." x
  3. It all started off about a week ago when my Dad sat across the room from me, half laughed and said, "I'm glad I'm not married to you." I had put the kids down on their naps and we were having what began as a casual conversation. My Dad is KING of the most phoney, lame, horrible and forced small talk you wouldn't even wish on your worse enemy. Makes you want to say something totally outrageous just to zap him out of his fake zombie gauntlet of questions he doesn't even care for the answer too. Anyway, this is how it started out. He asked me how I was. I said, sick of bills. Have bills coming out of our ears. Really what I meant was, completely stressed financially and personally, feeling unstable and unsure about our future, heavily pregnant, not wanting to be bothered by any of it and especially not wanting to be asked to take a turn through the pleasantry mill by my socially awkward father. D came in around this time and I just pressed on and explained we were under a bit of stress (not that he would have any real clue), and that, oh ho ho ho, I make a small joke, D will be losing the hair on his eyebrows next because I keep making demands on him. That's when my Dad said the next piece. Now I don't know why, but I found it creepy, and cutting, all at the same time. I didn't like it, not one bit. He then went on: "I always think, I'm glad I married your mother because she never pressured me to go further and she never wanted more. She has always been happy with what we've had..." and everything else he followed on with kind of echoed away as my mind instantly drifted into young childhood memories I had almost forgotten even happened of, my Mum in tears because my Dad had opened up their monthly credit card bill and she had gone over or, tears and stress as he discovered in the cupboard low and behold, a branded version of a food thing. I thought, you complete and utter b********r. Typical, typical, typical. My Mum always wanted more but was too pathetic and submissive to ever express that. My Mum is weak. My Mum took what she was always given without question. My Mum is very stupid, on paper and to talk too. My Mum is devious, mischievous, meddling and b****y. Without a spine or brain of her own, she has only confronted her wants and needs to my father what seems like quick little flashes in the windscreen on a rainy night from a passing bus. And my Dad was the puddle, coming up to soak the pedestrian. And that pedestrian was and is, my Mum. All at once I wish, like always, I never said anything. Why give them a shred. Why. They always use it to simply attack you with it. People seem to ignite in delight at any sign of struggle or discontent. People all along the close edges of my life, seemingly wiling me, hoping, for my failure. Or similar, to say, I told you so, I was right, I have the correct way, now don't you go trying to go do what you want and live how you want again. Rules are rules. And my rules, rule. I brush it off. I don't even defend myself. Why should I, I have nothing to apologise for. But the fights later on were because maybe I thought, in a horrible attack of rare conscience, that I DO have something to apologise for. And definitely not to someone like my Dad, but to my husband. The night kind of erupted in a horrible battle of words between me and D. Me saying how unhappy I was with everything, how stressed I felt, how unsatisfied and feeling like a total a*****e I was still living in this house and continuing our lifestyle that we apparently can no longer afford. It ended in me, being held by my husband, crying pathetically like a pregnant, spunky and spoilt 31 year old woman girl can only do whilst looking up to the chandelier above my head thinking, "F**k you, Jonathan Adler. F**k you." I thought that was the end, and probably so did D. Wrong. Once I get going, the pity party doesn't seem to stop, the train leaves the station but carries on somewhere else and it's a rolling buffet in the carriage and I CAN'T GET OFF and I CAN'T STOP taking a bite outta it. It's horrible. And completely shameful when the morning comes and you wake up with the memory of what you said and how you behaved and how you sounded. But still, I do it. Argument seemed to climax as we headed up another two floors and decided to take it up into the higher parts of the house where D asked my back, "What are you DOING?!" He can see me frantically rummaging around in the spare lead drawer of this antique chest and the whole thing is pulled out and I'm dishevelled and trying to unwind and cast free this laptop charger from the binds of the rest of all the other cables. Through my dramatic but very real at the time tears I managed to get out, "Getting the laptop charger!" And he says, "GOD WHY?!" And he probably thinks I want to hang myself with it or something. Pathetically I suddenly have realised, at 3am or even later than that, in the middle of an existential crisis, I am going to solve all our financial problems, take control finally of my life and start writing a frickin' novel because secretly I'm Charles b****y ***ens with curly red hair and I'm no longer going to be held back by him, aka the husband, my father, my cats mother mother or my sarcastic loser sister or my fake friends or my own desires or fears or any of it and this is obviously the way and by the way, yeah, YOU DON'T OWN ME I CAN MAKE IT ON MY OWN. So there. You can see why I want to die in the morning when the sedate, pleasant English sun creeps through the windows and welcomes in another cereal and orange juice family day. And I have to go on with this in the knowledge of the display I put on the night before. Undoable and cannot be undone, which is the worst thing about all of it. This was a whole week back. I don't know why I do it to myself. I invite my dreaded parents round again and I knew, dammit I just knew, I should never. I woke up in the worst mood. Dreadfully exhausted. I just wanted a day or half a days break. I just wanted to be with the kids with nothing much to do, or have D take them off me for a smidge so I could wallow in bed, try and nap and have the luxury of feeling sorry for myself. I let my Dad help me. At the end of the day, knowing we are going to be moving in the near future he says, "Please Lola, don't pick an old house for your next move. You won't have us there to pick up the pieces." Infuriated. They hardly help me and I never ask for it. We would rather pay for even basic jobs to be done then get my Dad to chip in with the odd end of DIY or screw tightening or whatever. I was furious all over again. Sounds of criticism filling my head. I think I am very raw at the moment. Everything is offending me. I am taking everything highly, highly personal. Everything is an attack on my morals and character and life choices and I feel sheer anger bubbling up inside me at this perceived threat. I just wanted to tell him to forget it. It's a good job it's not his life and it's a good job it's not his money and it's a good job I never ask your help or even care to have you live close by anyway! Hell, I WANT to move further away! It would be a PRIZE. Jesus! This house is well over 200 years old. It's beautiful. I love old buildings. Maybe they don't love me. I have an upkeep battle I have bitterly but respectfully waged with this property for over 6 years now. For their presence and elegance their structures need a bit of upkeep. But my God. Why can't they just say, it's looking great or, well done or, how about, not telling me kids how to act. How dare you. How about, answer the calls from your own 94 year old mother so she doesn't have to ring me distressed, because you play games and refuse to answer her for 4 days straight, and then smirk at me when I ask about it, and then tell Dad, within ear shot, that "Lola doesn't understand" as if I'm some idiot dummy who never spent a day growing up in this weird show of a family. Finding irritation in so many things and so many people. I always do, shoot me down, maybe I'm a horrible person. I'm tired of trying to pretend I like everyone I meet. God, I definitely do not and why should I, even if they are my own parents. Maybe I should comment on their living situations and their life choices and see how they take it. I wish I never told them anything. I mentioned I will probably have a home birth in about a month and a half, when our little wiggles is due. To my face, yes yes, great idea. Then I get texts streaming in all the next few days about, have you thought this through, why don't you go to a hospital, why this, why that. Why don't you please, respectfully, kindly, and dearly - shut up. I thank you. Sincerely, the mega b***h, Lo x
  4. WHAT a song Jib, this is one of my favourite tunes. Glad you enjoyed your cruise, nothing beats driving when no one else is around! x
  5. Hey itsallgrand! Why thank you dear, you would be absolutely MORE THAN WELCOME! Although, there is nothing more common than doing a "tour of the house" but, I'm not above it 😉 Are you into anything in particular? Lo x
  6. Our unsleepable friend gets the message on an ill-wind. 'All your friends and your foes would rather die than have to touch you' TO SAY THE LEAST: Truly disappointed truly, truly, truly, oh Drank too much, said too much, and there's nowhere to go but down. Young boy, I wanna help you. SEE THESE LINES? Truly disappointed truly, truly, truly, oh. Don't talk to me now about people who are "nice" 'cause I have spent my WHOLE LIFE in RUINS... because of people who were "nice" This world may lack style, I know, but each bud must blossom and grow. Young girl one day we really will be old. But the thing is: I love you NOW. This is the last song I will ever sing. No I've changed my mind again! GOODNIGHT AND THANK YOU.
  7. Is this not the pinnacle of relaxation or is it just me?!
  8. Going to shut up now because this is your journal! Best, Lo x
  9. Well exactly! Don’t leave it too late! Enjoy your time now, especially if you have the means too or can make it work! This song was written about Hartlepool! Absolutely love Morrissey. Definitely top 10 invited dream dinner party guest. If you could have anyone, dead or alive, at your ideal dinner party, who would they be? So many songs of his, and most I weirdly don’t find depressing at all! I love ‘A Boy With A Thorn In His Side’ and ‘Back To The Old House’ and God, there are so many aren’t there! I used to have an American pen pal friend back in my teenage days and he loved Morrissey. I didn’t realise he was so popular in America until he mentioned it. He’s like, the music for the outcast or fringe introvert or something. Poetry! x
  10. That’s alright Seraphim 😉 Lo x
  11. Jibralta babes! “And to the exasperation of many adults, I usually refused the money and did these things for free.” And this, my dear Jibralta, is why you are just too nice and not greedy enough to go into the mad mans world of going it alone 🥲 No but I jest, I wish you all the best! All the self employed people I know are almost allergic to working for anyone else and can’t take it for anymore than a few years to a decade max. But! You seem to be able to have a foot in one world and a foot in another and as you say, it’s not necessarily success and money you are after but happiness and for that I say, what you are doing now sounds perfect and makes you happy and I say kudos, that is a balance not many people get right in their lives. My husband worked for one company once, the only time he ever worked for anyone in his life. He had no qualifications in the area he was working in, but within 2 years there got his hands on the second highest position in the company and was the youngest to ever do it too, but! It was all mostly sales driven. All the while he was setting up his own business and left as soon as he could, I think after 3 years. He deals in speciality high value items now - art, antiques, fossils, natural history, sculpture, etc. This is obviously a lot different to an academic profession although his art and history knowledge is vast and he can pretty much give you the Latin name for most animals! As sedate and snobby as this area of deals can seem to the outside eye it is very cut throat and ruthless. I have met some insanely interesting people through his work though. And not bad considering he walked out of school at 15 with no qualifications because he was already buying and selling on CD’s then and burning/illegally copying computer games with a friend and was making more money than his sister at the time who had come out of university with a great degree and career. I remember him telling me he couldn’t stand them treating him like a kid, being told what to do and also he didn’t want to waste his time taking the exams because he knew they wouldn’t do anything for him anyway. After constantly being surrounded in life through his work with basically glorified “wheelers and dealers” ranging from people who set up HSBC banks in Hong Kong to software developers who sold their companies to property developers and authors and bohemians and ex models and their director ex husbands and on and on I can say that these people have never once tread the “safe path” or “steady road” and that they are all, in their own way, a little insane! Doesn’t mean it won’t work out for you but I do notice a definite set of personality traits amongst them. Anyway, eccentric characters aside, I don’t mean to come across pessimistic or jaded about your business goals Jib! I do wish you all the best! I don’t know you obviously, just from the odd interactions you just seem too sweet for that world, and, I mean that as a big compliment, not as a put down in anyway. I am curious about your well being classes! What is it that you do? A seminar type situation? Lo x
  12. This is why I like the sound of your son! Smart boy! Haha! It’s a lovely personality trait to have, the drive to help, I admire it greatly. And about the RV! Very cool idea! There are so many videos on YouTube regarding that lifestyle. I think there are many pros and cons to a minimal, off grid kinda self sufficient vibe. Counting down your years seem wrong though Seraphim! Is there anyway you could dabble in your dream even now, instead of waiting? I was talking to a friend who told me about her 10 year plan and this kinda thinking blows me away, it’s just so alien too me. I don’t know what I’ll be doing in 1 year yet alone thinking and planning for 5, 8, 10! But I think this is more normal than not! But it always seems like people are planning on starting living “in the future when all is well” as Morrissey puts it and, I don’t know, maybe I am far too unrealistic but I always think, why wait! Is there any way you could dabble now if it’s something you really want to do? Lo x
  13. Doing it again, 1:30 in the morning, I can’t, can’t, can’t sleep. What is wrong with me?! This is so weird. I never have this problem, ever. I feel like something is changing or, I don’t know. Maybe I am more worried or stressed than I will admit or even realise? Need to stop looking at my phone, need to stop getting into big late night discussions with D and then going to sleep with my brain in wind up mode instead of wind down. Getting up with the babies on an hour or two of sleep is really no joke, not second time round anyway. Whyyyyyyy? Why why whyyyyy are you doing this brrrrraaaaaain. Need a switch off button. Need to order one. Note to self. Lo x
  14. SO AM I!!!! I saw this exact video a few years back! What impressed me is they did it all with a baby! Sometimes at night, when I can’t sleep, I picture a log cabin in the middle of nowhere and take myself inside, to a log burner, boots drying, the smell of pine, crammed shelves of pickled jars and up a ladder a cosy, tiny, and many quilted bunk bed! When I was a tiny tiny kid I used to imagine something very similar but it was a Viking longhouse in the middle of winter, with an open fire at the centre and people snuggled into blankets wrapped like bags around them close to the walls. There is just something so peaceful and relaxing about the shelter from extreme conditions. It’s almost like being back in the womb. I started dabbling in minimalism a year back. I hate clutter anyway. There was something extremely therapeutic about stripping everything back, starting with the contents of my closet. But! I have a terrible twitchy shopping addiction and I hate myself for it but I ended up just replacing or buying new things! But, I still LOVE the idea! Thinking of moving to Alaska? 😉 Lo x
  15. This seems very fitting for your business and profession Seraphim! I remember taking this years ago and getting 4, ‘The Individualist’ - my husband got the same result. Has your husband and son taken this test? Would be interesting to see what their results are! I always find stuff like this fun. I sometimes think it would be interesting for everyone on ENA to take one of these and see if their results matched up to how we all perceive that person through their interactions over this forum 🙂 Lo x
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