mylolita

A series of "one of those days", those feelings of "me and you against the world, babe" and lots of drives out in the middle of the night has got me back on here feeling compelled to start splurging to myself, anyone, everyone, and nobody until its all out and I can rest for awhile in peace. But I fear that will never happen, and as always, I have too much to say.

And everything has changed on here I see suddenly, oh God, not this as well as the rest of the world. What did someone clever and famous once say... something like, those that survive can adapt or something like that? Well, it looks like I ain't adapting at all, I don't have a f*****g clue what's going on everywhere and anywhere, the only thing I'm sure of is my beautiful family and my husband and everything outside of these very lovely, high walls has gone to s***t and everyone seems to be walking around as calm as Hindu cows while the western economy burns, communism seems to be rolling into the Whitehouse, everyones masked up walking past the house, I can't see anyones smiles anymore, everything closed, I haven't seen some people I know for what feels like almost a year, it could be decades now, my GOD this YEAR, my God LAST YEAR! And the worst thing of all, the worst thing, is I feel like the whole entire universe is out of my control and madness has set in and I don't want "the new normal" but, I feel powerless to do anything about it.

Strike me down, I have never worn a mask throughout this whole thing. I completely disagree with it. Don't listen to me, look it up for yourself how useful they are, just look into how big a virus particle is, you can then do the math, but explanations aside, what has been keeping me feeling human still, still like myself still, I fear is going to now be completely stripped away from me. Talks of Government crack downs on masks and track and trace which I find insanely sinister then teamed with this rushed through vaccine which they now seem hell bent in having absolutely everyone take, not just the old or the at risk.

Once again, all my life, I have felt against the mass, against the s****y narrative or whatever you want to call it, GOD I HATE THAT LAME WORD. But now my feelings of being other and different have just shot into the stratosphere and I've now near gone lost my mind - body and soul. I am starting to think, is this even reality? 

I just feel like saying, where is the real pandemic? Is this the reason why I can't see my near dying 94 year old Grandmother, even though she wants me to go, so desperately, but we now have the virtuous mask viral police aka your aunt who never passed biology let alone read anything on it and now they are all experts and not only that but they have become gastapo style facist police who feel it's their duty to tell you what you can do, who you can see and what you can wear whilst doing it. No thank you. I don't want to live in a dictatorship state where my personal liberty is stripped from myself, my husband and my children.

And I'm pregnant, again. Thats a whole other post and a whole other story, there's just too many thoughts and too little time and my fingers will be ground to bone on these keys and I just can't.

I have absolutely zero friends left. Nada. They weren't friends anyway. But I am now feeling like I am just destined to never have a true friendship and that it is impossible to find someone who has anything even half way in common with me. Some days I feel like, am I such a crazy freak? And then some days I get very angry and I think, they want me to think I'm the freak, but I'm a normal woman, a normal wife, a normal mother - they are the weird ones!!! HECK! Not me! And then I go full circle again. 

I know my flaws, very honestly. My tendency for drama and negativity do their worst on me, oh, I can lay it down on myself quite nicely. What have I got left now in this new crazy, stupid, stifling and claustrophobic world but my family, my husband, music, love... and words. Always want to turn to writing, it's the only thing I can do much confidence and no thought - well, scrap that, not much thought goes into anything too much it seems for me, I am one of those "go with your gut" type people. Damn it, it's like, I just want to be human. I want to talk to people, hug them, I want to argue, to laugh, to cry. I have hot blood pumping through me, I'm alive God dammit and I want the right to be. I feel practically sick, sick to my stomach. 

Even the short leash they give you, I can walk to the park daily with the kids say, oh man, thank you, man, I must be so grateful. I am supposed to praise the dear leader and be thankful and shut up. Oh as always, just shut up ay, how many times have I been given that advice. Why bother, why discuss, why argue, why think... just shut up, just accept. 

I wish, I wish I could, but I can't. And I never will. I know myself too passionately and too strongly and I just can't do it and I don't care if I was the last person on earth with everything stripped from me I would still have these thoughts and this will and I can't just accept and smile. I refuse!

Is there anyone left, anyone who wants to live? Is there anyone who is just a living breathing... God, we are alive, life is risk, can no one die anymore? I could die tomorrow. I have lived, I have been here, I have said what I wanted through thick or thin, I have some regrets, some days I have none, I have loved beyond myself and as passionately, widely and obsessively as ten people could all their lives. I want freedom, and that's what you should want. In the words of Alex Jones. And that's what you should want. 

I know the brigade will be out. And Lord, I wouldn't even be surprised if I were banned. Y'know, the world has got so crazy with censorship, they are tearing anyone down with any shred of alternative opinion. It's beyond scary to me, I have a horrible, slow creeping desperation deep inside me that won't quiet and I don't know what to do.

The home we built over 5 years, our beautiful home, D and me discussed selling it. Might not be the wisest time to buy and sell, God knows what the economy is doing, but through pure luck my husband still has a business and can still feed and support his growing family which I know a whole bunch of people don't seem to give two hoots about, whether people who own their own business crash and burn, it's like, nothing to them, and they always come from a position of security - retired, or they work as a teacher, or in healthcare, it's like, nice position of luxury you have their to demand everything shut down, I wonder if you would be saying that if it was you having a business you had grown from nothing over 14 years, I wonder. Ohhhh how I wonddddeerrrrrrr.

The neck. I'm angry, I'm deflated, I'm defiant, I'm in love with the world and I care too much and people seem to care too little. It's like they have nothing to lose. By locking themselves away, you think they have everything to live for, that's why they have to protect themselves so much, but actually, it's the opposite. They have no real life to live. So it's okay. It makes no difference to them. They aren't really doing anything. I feel like they enjoy it, even. 

Everyones bit the dust apart from my husband and obviously my beautiful children. Having skin in the game makes life mean - phew, it's indescribable. I think the world my children are inheriting, the new ways of thinking, the fake illusion of principles, my childrens children. I just don't know. It used to be just me, I never really mattered that much. Now I have two, going to be three. My babies. This is everything for me. They need other kids, we need human interaction, we're social animals, it'll make us crazy. Maybe that's what they want.

Damn. Put me down as a conspiracy theorist. A few years ago I would've hated that term, now, I'd be kinda flattered by it. 

Send me the slew, because I've already been through it, and I know what I feel pounding here hot in my heart, and I used to scoff at religious conviction, but I find myself on the same team, but instead of conviction of faith, I have conviction for LIFE. I want to LIVE. 

Don't fence me in. 

Been listened to a lot of country music lately. Should've been a cowboy. 
 

I saw this and thought she might have posted! Alas, she did not.

 

Hope you're well, Lolita.

Jibralta!

I missed you so! I always wondered - what is the meaning or reason for choosing your username? I always thought it was cool and I always wanted to know!

And very well thank you darling! How are you through all this madness?

Lo x

How are you lolita? It's been a while. Did you give birth? :)

Dias!

Hello! Oh my God, I kept meaning to write on here but honestly I hardly had any time and when I did, I just ended up not feeling much like it. Lots happened! Will go into it I'm sure if anyone would even care to know ;)

I had the cutest baby girl on the 11th September! I can't believe she is 8 months old now. Time is going faaaarrr too fast.

Lo x

I guess today was the nail in the coffin of the windbag situation that is me and female friendships.

Miss 'I'll Use Your House Like It's The Shopping Chanel Tour' had arranged to meet me at a local cafe today.

Alright, I thought I need to give this thing another chance. Everyone tells you, it's good to have other Mum friends, you need them, it's healthy to have female friends, you NEED them, what if everything else fails? Marriage, work, career, life... all the romantic comedies, all the novels, they tell you, they drum it into us women since childhood, a woman needs a good solid bunch of girlfriends around her to pick her up from these mishaps of life. Or so we're told. I'm starting to not buy into the Hollywood agenda. That's what I feel it is. I feel like everyone tells you this just because that's all everyone is ever told and no one ever questions it or has tried to do things otherwise. I'm starting to think it's all more hassle than it's worth.

I am not feeling the deep camaraderie they told me I'd feel. I have no "support network" of women. I only have women in my family. And even them, suspect. I support my younger sister emotionally, my mother is as much use in a crisis as a hyperventilating squirrel and the other Aunts and sisters of women are always at each others throats - a fine example of the so called "blood is thicker than water" and "robust, healthy female companionship".

Lord. My mistake, I am a ditz, a complete ditz, and anyone who even knows me as an acquaintance will tell you that. People even go as far to ask, how do I even get through daily life? Yes, I've had that put to me, only in a half joke. It's true. I would forget my head if it wasn't on already, so on reading her text this morning to confirm our baby coffee date and then library I mistook her "see you 12ish" for "see you 12:30" - I don't know why! Baby brain or usual ditz head I don't know. Anyway, I had 12:30 in my head all day. I pre-packed his bag, got myself organised. I was actually, weirdly, really looking forward to seeing another adult, and especially checking out the new library in town that had a very cute children's section I had heard. And, I love libraries.

Also, D had been away for a few days and I always miss him so badly. I was feeling slightly down without him and even the thought of a proper cappuccino was making me very giddy and excited like a school girl. I left the house at 12:10 knowing I could swing by the doctors, pick up my sons prescription and be there by 12:20 no problem, nice and early.

I got a text just as we slipped out the front door. "Hey you two, we're here now, how're you getting on?" I was just picking up his prescription and knew I could be there in 10 minutes, 15 max - but I had sworn it was 12:30! I quickly looked back through the texts between us and released she'd said "12ish". I hate "ish", what does that mean anyway? Anywhere between 11:45 and 12:45? I don't know! A solid time would do, I need things clear and crisp, my mind is too muddled! I text her back straight away, apologise for the mix up and say I'm on my way I'll be there in 10. I get a text back straight away, her baby needs feeding he's getting grumpy. I text back and say no worries just start we'll be there before you've ordered and set up the highchair. In this time I'm power walking in the wind to the cafe and library like a mad woman and I get there 12:20. I bust in and I frantically sweep the cafe with the old eye balls. Nothing, no sign. I check my phone. Another text. "Can we take a rain check on today, he's not feeling well and he needs feeding".

I instantly feel furious! I can't put my finger on why. I feel slighted. I know. I know! It's no big deal. These things happen. It was technically all my fault. But, it just felt... cold? She'd just left knowing I was rushing over. And then it made me think back to her texts early the same day. It was as if she didn't really want to meet up anyway and she was desperate for an excuse to cancel. She had text me a couple of hours before the date and said, "Baby is feeling grizzly and has a cold. We can call it a day if you don't want me to pass it into your son" and I replied, "Absolutely no probs at all, he hasn't had a good cold for a month so he's probably due one! See you there!" And she had said okay. But, looking back?

I always got this feeling about her. As if she really didn't want to do anything with me. It's alright if it's completely, utterly at her convenience or as I honestly feel, at her advantage to use me in some way. Bored, my house is a good base for awhile so she'll come round if I offer type thing but, ah, I don't know.

I called D straight away and he said well, you are bad with your time. I know this. I am. I am mostly always late but ohhhhhh irrrooonically I have tried so hard since becoming a Mum to work on this really annoying trait and I have and I had never been late for this girl before! YES! A perfect track record!

Maybe I should just trust what my heart is telling me deep down. These people aren't true friends, they don't want to be my friend, they are not "friend soulmates" and they don't care about me on even maybe a semi-basic level, let alone a deep level a true friend should. Okay, I delve too much there, only known her a year but, argh, y'know when ya just... know?

Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I was in the wrong today.

I just don't get it though. Honestly, I'm a complete sweetheart, a total kitten. A push over. I apologised again and said I was just going to stay and have lunch since we were here anyway. No reply. Nothing. Ignored. I just felt like saying f**k you darling! Maybe that's too harsh. I just felt angry! I felt like a little girl again at school. Why can't I have friends? Why does no one seem to like me? No one who is a girl, anyway. Men, I get on great with men. I adore men and they adore me back. They don't play any games, they're straight up. They never talk about other men with you or behind their backs, they don't ask that you're perfect and they don't expect perfection from themselves or a friendship. They take it as it comes and they can have a laugh. Maybe it's the bisexual in me. I'm serious. I am... a feminine tomboy. That is the only way I could describe my personality AND my appearance. Sometimes I feel like my brain is half male, and the half male part is trying to wonder what on earth you do with female friendship, the catty, gossipy part and then, the other half of my brain is full of lipstick and ditz and dashing around like oops is that the time hee hee hee silly girlie me!

My so called best friend, our very last conversation before I sent her my bridesmaid dress back, she out right let it slip that her and her other fair weather newbie friends had all been talking about me, discussing me, dissing me to the best of their ability! Ohh ho ho ho! They all had known I would fail! Silly best friend for giving me the time of day! And it was always all my fault, of course, because, these people are always perfect - OF COURSE.

And then y'know, you feel like because they do this that you must be some kind of "toxic friend" or something. So I went through a phase of looking it up. Stupid. And one of these things said a friend should always make you feel great after you've spent time with them. Well, sorry, but I disagree. Some people are a mess no matter who comforts them or tells them what they want to hear. That's all I ever did with my so called best friend. I never gave her any truths because she was so on edge constantly, her ego so fragile, that all I stupidly ever did was agree with her and try and "enlighten" and entertain her and she STILL felt bad I imagine after seeing me. So does she go away thinking, "Oh yes, I got rid of THAT toxic friend because those websites say that is definitely a sign!" Well sorry, princesses of the world! People aren't here to fluff your mental pillows! I want someone to be honest with. I want to talk, properly, have a proper conversation. If that's hard things, it's hard. If it's nice things, it's nice. I want us to roll with how we really feel. I don't want you to care about "brightening my day!", I should be able to do that for myself. Why does todays society make everyone need emotional crutches? Why do we have to constantly prop other people up? Or downplay ourselves so that they may feel better? SOD IT. Alright, alright. Rant over. I am going against the general consensus there of female friendship. Maybe that's why no one likes me.

Back to it though. The cappuccino was beautiful. God damn sweet, bitter thing. First coffee in mooooooonnnnths. It was worth the little drama and power walk through town while the wind whipped my sons blonde curls into a frenzy. Then I thought, might as well still hit the library, minus faux friend or not. And, the feeling I get, I forgot all about it. I haven't been in a library for, years. A small tragedy on my part. I forgot how much I missed the atmosphere until I was back there.

Even the way the light falls through those huge, elongated windows is different in a library. The smell of books upon books, the endless shelves, stacked with possibility, stacked with maybe one, two, or even more, secret books that can speak to me and touch my heart and comfort me for a lifetime. It was like coming home.

I felt a lump develop in my throat. I felt so lonely yet surrounded by friends all at once. The friends are my books. And again, a lost memory but, whenever I have felt bad in life, drifting, lost - those times where you just can't quite figure out how you feel but something is off, you need something... I have always found myself drawn to the nearest library. In that stupid moment full of stupid insignificance and no proper hurt at all compared to the real torments of life, I felt a huge wave of sadness and relief all at the same time. I love to read. So much. I love words. They have been my constant companion. Ever since being a child, if there was ever a time or moment I was scared or hurt or sad, I would focus in on words. How could I have forgot? All this time. Wrapped up in the other aspects of life.

I remember being told off badly by a teacher - not any teacher, but the head mistress. I had been slighted, HA(!), again. Poor victim! A girl in junior school, I was probably 6 - she had entered the year from somewhere else. Alex Madrell. Pretty, petite thing with mousey brown hair down to her skinny bum. Little ring leader. She was pure evil. And she took an instant dislike to me, even though I never said a peep to her or did anything to her at all. She was always telling me how ugly my red hair was, how red my cheeks were, how no one liked me, how I should shut up! I loved that one! Not a word and I should be still, more quiet! She was a grade A b***h. I knew it back then and I would know it now. She lived to get me into trouble as well.

One lunch, we would line up to get a tray and then shuffle along to check out what food they had on offer and tell the nice and very sweet dinner ladies what we'd like, one of those, some of that, please, thank you. Somehow she had arranged to be standing in front of me in the queue. I stood there kind of terrified in silence. I hated this girl with a passion. Now, I can't even remember what she started saying to me, I guess it was a blur in my mind but all I know is I felt so beyond powerless to defend myself, I think it boiled over inside me and pathetically, ridiculously, I turned to her and blew a raspberry. Yes. The mind of a 6 year old me. Take that.

And you know what she did? The look on her impish face! The b*****d! She instantly tugged on the arm of the worst dinner nanny there ever lived, a horrible, spiteful, man hating rake thin grey haired stern Mrs Petty and she said, "MRS PETTY! LOLA JUST SPAT IN MY FACE!" Little actress here was looking close to tears all with a smirk just for me. Oh God. Well, a raspberry and spitting in someones face are, let me say, totally different. The image is very different. And she God damn knew this. Obviously.

Without defence or question, the horrible nanny yanked my arm and roughly torn me through the crowds of staring children, through the double doors and plonked me straight on a chair outside the heads office. Somewhere I had only been a few times, and only for praise, because I was excelling, or so they told me. I was so choked up at the injustice I couldn't even get the words out to argue my case or even the strength to tell her it was a lie. And all the while my face was burning and tears ran down my hot cheeks. The only way I could get outside of this horrible 6 year olds situation was, well, I just kind of homed in on the words the head was using. Singled them out and thought about the ones I'd randomly picked as she spouted. "Responsibility". I heard it and thought about it, rolled the word around inside my head while my eyes stared forward and went blank. Responsibility. My Mum and Dad have responsibility. Do I have responsibility? When I am older, I probably will. Maybe that will be in a big job. I wonder what job I'll do. "Disappointed". Another one. Disappointment. That is that feeling, like coming down, like dropping in the pit of your stomach. It hurts you. You're not quite angry but... and then I would focus, blurry eyed, on her tacky, shiny shoes as she paced, her overly tanned stockings, a vein on her leg. And on and on it would go like this until I found myself cancelling out most of the pain. I also found myself sat on a chair at the head of the hall where everyone was eating and not allowed to have any lunch. I don't know if that was on purpose, probably not, but Mrs Petty didn't care to think if I'd had anything to eat and I couldn't speak, the lump was so large in my small throat. I could hear my stomach growling and churning by 2pm. It was a horrible day. I came home devastated and cried to my parents. But I always used to focus in on the words.

And so I found myself there in this strange comfort, surrounded by the most words anyone could physically wish to see in one room and, I don't know - I just felt at ease again.

I have only a few true friends in life. My husband, my son, and books. If that is sad, I'm not sure. I don't feel like it is but, maybe to most it sounds lonely. I am lucky to have one best friend in my husband, some people have none.

Today wasn't so bad. She didn't do anything wrong really. Maybe it brought up some past memories, or maybe I was just angry all over again with myself because, I knew deep down this wasn't working. I kept thinking, another one bits the dust.

Words, words, words.

Lo x

I have been thinking a lot more than usual lately on the matter of friends and friendship and, I've never had a true friend until I met my husband.

With all the intentions of sociability when I was first pregnant, I set out to meet other to be Mums in my area and to really make an effort unlike usual, to step in there and put myself out there.

What I always find is, people initially really, really like me. I think they think, who is this? This is not the usual. And, I think in most peoples lives, things are mostly the same. They meet the same type of people from the same type of circles and I am not being braggadocious in anyway but, I think on meeting me, I put a little glitch in the normality of their lives.

It's not just the way I look or think or talk, my lifestyle is very unusual and our home is very unusual and the way we do things is kinda kooky and I think people are intrigued, at the least, at the start. Some people are put off by this completely. To them I say, each to their own and have a nice day, I wish you the very best. But some people are bored and want a bit of excitement and well, my conversations aren't always about the weather, let me tell you that, so some people respond to that and think it's all very glamorous and different.

But when they get into it and maybe start realising who I am, what I'm like, how much I'm nothing like them... they do this thing where I can almost see them taking slow steps back until they're gone, and they disappear, on purpose, and they probably say "Phew, thank God" to themselves. Again, to them I say, each to their own, salute.

But some people dip one toe in and one toe out, and they can't seem to decide what they want to do. They enjoy aspects of me and might even like parts of me but can't seem to get away with the rest. And THOSE are the people who I end up resenting. Not mostly them, but, they make me resent myself, because I allow them to hang on, because in some parts, I guess an aspect of me is longing for a true female friendship, but other parts think practically and go well, it's nice to have someone to have a play date with locally, might as well stick it out some. And I resent that because I'm lying to myself and them and it gets me in knots.

I'm doing it now and I just feel like calling the whole thing off. I initially met a new mum, exactly the same aged babies by only 3 days, both boys and initially, she was completely hot for me. She adored me! Poured me with compliments, called me "therapeutic" to be around, this and that, couldn't gush enough about our family home, my husbands work ethic, our general attitudes, she was my number one fan. For awhile. And she invited me over, let me into her house. We had a lovely rainy afternoon of coffee and talks but I realised as honest and open I was being with her, she was still very guarded. She would talk as if life was perfection, and I could just tell, really tell, she was lying to me, and she was doing it I think because she thought MY life was perfection, and she wanted to be up to standard. Well, no ones life is perfection. And I let her know in all the comments and subtle ways and jokes and laughs about my blips and downfalls and, y'know, I don't take myself seriously, that's really one of my favourite qualities about myself.

But she keep getting further and further away. And then things seemed to turn into a competition. And then, every time she would come to our house she would say things like, "Ohh, every time I come here, we come here for a bit of culture don't we son" and "Ohh, we come here to gather a shopping list, I think I need one of those too" or she'd enter and say, "What have you got that's new here then?! Must be something! Always is!" And I felt all the possibility of a genuine friendship draining away as she glanced manically around the house and demanded tours and to see rooms and, well, I can't put my finger on it but she never invited me around hers anymore. And no more simply, cosy coffee between us two in her snug, with our boys simply playing. It was as if a piece of clingfilm had been pulled over her and nothing was allowed in.

Now it's pleasantries and I can't stand it.

What do you do? I could tell her how I really feel but, how I really feel is probably quite a shock to her and I don't want to hurt the girls feelings. I think she struggles, just like anyone else but, I don't know. I don't want to add to any personality complex I think she harbours. She openly told me she deals with some issues to do with insecurities at work and, she works with children. I don't know. I just don't care about the things she cares about. I would like to think she would realise after talking to me for a year solid that I'm not that type of girl.

Another one bites the dust.

I am starting to think a true connection of real, loving friendship is as rare as finding your soul mate. I already have found one so I should count myself lucky.

I don't understand women. Now I really do feel for men.

Lo x

It is an extremely weird and scary time to be a free thinker in the UK at the moment.

Anyone from outside our grey island might think I am being insane and dramatic but, honestly, unless you are in this, it really is shocking and must be experienced for yourself.

If you are not a complete, utter liberal, if you think anything beside the "correct and righteous" narrative the mainstream media and every other apparently "polite" members of society think, you are not only ghosted and completely shut out of all your previous friendship groups, but people make up stories about you, complain to your boss to get you fired, social media bans you (this is true! JUST for a comment, completely free speech, my husband has experience of this personally).

If you think immigration should be controlled, if you dare to criticise the "peaceful" religion of Islam (by the way, prepare for death threats to your family and having your windows put through at the very least). If you even hint there may be pit falls and pot holes in the third way feminist modernist ideals of the way women should now live and balance love, life and family. If you believe the Government should spend their money wisely and NOT spend money they don't have, if you believe people should help themselves and the endless array of benefits paid for by us, the taxpayers with no say in this at all, should be reduced and massively cut. If you don't believe every single homeless person out their begging on the street is just a poor, misfortunate ensian squire who was kicked out of the orphanage for asking for more porridge and they struggle helping old ladies cross the street between humbly asking for simply, just please Sir, could you spare some change for me to help a dying puppy I have found this evening, and actually most of them are drug dependent, heinous criminals who receive housing and benefits from you, the taxpayer but dare to ask for more and then go and commit drug fuelled crimes in your area. If you don't think being fat is fantastic, if you believe you should be able to say what you want, when you want, even if, GASP, it may offend someone! Shock horror! Then, my friend, prepare for a different kind of life that resembles a social leper.

The ironic thing is, the so called "liberal and righteous" side don't care about offending me. They don't care if I think supporting and enabling Islamic terrorists to come into our country and continue to form child grooming gangs completely disproportionate in numbers to the indigenous population is highly, grossly offensive, especially since becoming a mother myself. No, they say, you racist! You bigot! When, sorry to burst your bubble, but Islam is a religion, not a race, therefore you cannot be racist criticising a religion, as desperately as they want you to be racist, but they won't listen to that or facts either, they just want to be right and righteous and they go around spouting off the popular opinion without thinking for themselves.

You get outcasted.

But worse, Americans may not be aware of what is truly scary in this country now, but someone who speaks out against Islam, a man who is more than a hero, who receives death threats and acts threats to his wife and children daily for merely criticising their practices, was jailed unlawfully in this country and nearly killed in prison, and for speaking out and revealing our BBC to be a shambles and crock that it is, Facebook, Instagram and Twitter have banned him, the reason? For "infighting hatred". I'm sorry, but it is completely normal and sane to hate a religion where in 11 of their countries this awful thing is practices it will get you the death penalty to be gay. His website has been shut down. There has been a complete media black out on the man. You cannot search hardly anything. It is like 1984. I'm serious.

I see this whole thing unravelling and it's worse than I ever first guessed, the deeper you look into it. The Government is involved.

In America, you have your first amendment - well here, anything resembling free speech has hit the deck. This shut down of anyone saying anything that the media and mainstream do not agree with is infiltrating schools, work places, and even your private home.

I watched Waking Life a long, long time ago, and I remember seeing a piece where Alex Jones speaks in a car through a megaphone. I always adored what he had to say, not for the truth of it, but for the optimism of it, even through the bleakness of the reality and facts. It never hit me how truly right he was until now.

"You can't fight city hall." "Death and taxes." "Don't talk about politics or religion." This is all the equivalent of enemy propaganda, rolling across the picket line. "Lay down, GI! Lay down, GI!". We saw it all through the 20th Century. And now on the 21st Century, it's time to stand up and realize, that we should NOT allow ourselves to be crammed into this rat maze. We should not SUBMIT to dehumanization. I don't know about you, but I'm concerned with what's happening in this world.

I'm concerned with the structure. I'm concerned with the systems of control. Those that control my life, and those that seek to control it EVEN MORE! I want FREEDOM! That's what I want, and that's what YOU should want! It's up to each and every one of us to turn loose of just some of the greed, the hatred, the envy, and yes, the insecurities, because that is the central mode of control, make us feel pathetic, small, so we'll willingly give up our sovereignty, our liberty, our destiny. We have GOT to realize we're being conditioned on a mass scale. Start challenging this corporate slave state! The 21st Century's gonna be a new century! Not the century of slavery, not the century of lies and issues of no significance, of classism and statism, and all the rest of the modes of control... it's gonna be the age of humankind, standing up for something PURE and something RIGHT! What a bunch of garbage, liberal, Democratic, conservative, Republican, it's all there to control you, two sides of the same coin! Two management teams, bidding for control of the CEO job of Slavery Incorporated! The TRUTH is out there in front of you, but they lay out this buffet of LIES! I'm SICK of it, and I'M NOT GONNA TAKE A BITE OUT OF IT! DO YA GOT ME? Resistance is NOT futile, we're gonna win this thing, humankind is too good, WE'RE NOT A BUNCH OF UNDERACHIEVERS, WE'RE GONNA STAND UP, AND WE'RE GONNA BE HUMAN BEINGS! WE'RE GONNA GET FIRED UP ABOUT THE REAL THINGS, THE THINGS THAT MATTER - CREATIVITY, AND THE *DYNAMIC* *HUMAN* *SPIRIT* THAT REFUSES TO *SUBMIT*! WELL THAT'S IT, that's all I've got to say. It's in your court now.

'The fascists of the future will call themselves anti-fascists’ - Sir Winston Churchill

Lo x

Oh yes, Sean Connery.

OH MY GOD - Sean Connery is my ultimate celebrity crush!

And fantastic description Jibs, you sound very cool! I think everyone is lucky to work with you.

Lo x

A Scene From 'Gone With The Wind'

Scarlette O'Hara has recently given birth to a baby girl. She clings onto an ornate bedpost in an ostentatiously luxurious chamber to have Mammy, her servant from childhood, tug at her corset. Mammy obediently takes the tape measure and wraps it around her waist, whilst Scarlett looks dramatically and pensively on.

Mammy shakes her head. "20 inches"

Scarlett - childishly dramatic, "Why no Mammy! This won't do!"

"You ain't never gonna be no eighteen-and-a-half inches again! You've had a baby Miss Scarlett!"

THIS RIGHT HERE.

This describes me now, described me last month, described me 8 months ago. And I never thought it would happen. We all never do.

If you have ever been slim, a naturally skinny girl, and not had to work that hard for your figure, or even worse, been admired for your figure as one of the main elements of what is admirable about you to most, then childbirth and having a baby will be a cruel awakening.

Some seem to by-pass this sinking realisation but, I doubt many do. I am still working out how to achieve this.

I guess it is something, a small price to pay, for the beautiful little life you have created.

I feel like, in almost all films, the main character sometimes goes from this destitute time with no hope, but they are somewhat happy and have it mentally together, to then get everything they wished for, and be lavished with comforts and money, and they get fat and conceited and lose their friends and they feel more alone than ever. This is exactly how I felt my life was turning out a few months ago. I know it sounds obnoxious to say that, but it was like I was looking in at a screen of myself, surrounded by all the beautiful things I ever wanted, marriage, children, the house, the car and, it just didn't add up in my minds eye to what I thought it would, my expectation of how I would feel, how happy I would be about it all, paled in comparison with reality.

Curvier than ever, or should I say, feeling slightly bloated and chunky and just simply indulging all the time in every comfort I can get, I just felt like... I guess like the scene above. But, without the Mammy. I kinda wish I had Mammy from the film, she always served Scarlett up some good, hot honesty. Sometimes I think I need a serving of honestly just like the rest, but I isolate myself sometimes here with my baby boy and even though things are good, I do need to make some changes.

Money doesn't make you happy.

Oscar Wilde once said,

"There are only two great tragedies in life. One, not getting what you want, and the other, getting it."

I read that when I was 14, loved it, but never understood it. Now I feel like I get it. It's a fairly big price for that knowledge I supposed.

Please don't get me wrong, this isn't a desolate and negative post, just full of self realisation. I feel like again, once again, I am at some crossroad in my life. I can keep on going and maybe make a horrible time for myself, or I can decide to make some changes and find fulfilment elsewhere in different things.

Mostly, I just need to be grateful for all the fantastic things and people I have in my life, and all the love I am surrounded by.

None of the material things matter. I have always been a very, very materialistic girl, I doubt that will ever change much but, it's really not as important as I thought it was.

Not at all!

Lo x

PS Jibralta, I always wonder what the people are like behind the journals and, I have no desire at all to see a real life photo, but how would you describe yourself, physically and mentally? It always interests me, I guess these journals to me are like reading a live book with living characters and I sometimes wish everyone started off their journal with like this little character description of their appearance or other things, like a real book, HA! Y'know like, the first time a character is introduced and they go, "such and such shrugged off their coat to reveal a white, smooth shoulder, blah blah eyes, this this hands" or, something along those lines.

Oh my God, I am sounding like a total weirdo loser! Anyway, just a request! I always imagine you have dark hair for some reason.

Lo x

Thank you, MyLolita. I appreciate you saying that. It's been a struggle facing my feelings about this whole thing because I feel like I am committing some sort of thought-crime by thinking and feeling the way that I do about this.

 

(and Luminousone: I appreciate your contribution, as well. Please don't think that I don't)

 

MyLolita-- That part about your friends fading out on you... obviously, you're better off without people like that in your life, but it still sucks.

 

People can be ridiculously irrational sometimes. I remember a couple years ago, when the press was hounding Justin Bieber about every single thing that he did, I decided to take the opposite stance in a conversation with my boyfriend and my then-roommate. I defended Justin Bieber.

 

You should have seen how pissed off they got! It was incredible. It was almost as bad as the time I defended Michael Jackson.

 

People really lose their minds over people they never met and can't possibly know, over hearsay stories that they have absolutely no way of proving.

Thanks Jibs, but honestly, don't worry about it - just say what you mean when you mean it, people who matter will respect you for it, even if they don't agree. And who wants someone who simply agrees with everything you say aaaaall of the time?! That would be, weird, and boring I imagine.

And thanks for the support regarding the tumble weed used to be friends - I realised exactly that after the kind of, oh outch, did you just dump me? I think the worst part of it is they didn't even respect me enough to give me a reason, or even let me know I was gonna get ditched, via mass organisation as well, I could definitely forgive a dumping of spontaneous passion! But this was all thought out and they all got together and I felt like, I was in the Roman erm, what do you call it? The Senate! And I was speaking on the floor with my robe on and they creeped up behind me after weeks of whispering together and basically slid out the knife and stabbed me in the back. True cowards. And it really was over what I was saying, on the "floor", so to speak. We are still living with the Roman mob. Did you ever watch Gladiator? The mob IS Rome, the mob has power. Hahahaha. True.

On the note of Michael Jackson, or should we say, EM JAY - I have to tell you, I grew up a massive fan as most kids of the late 90s and early 2000s who's parents had all the tapes and CDs and I adored him, Moonwalker, the lot, loved it. I grew up as a teenager to hear all the horrible accusations and I simply couldn't, or wouldn't, believe it. Fast forward to now, I've turned 29 years old and I have to say, I researched it myself and I have no doubt in my mind he was what people say he was, and he did, and probably worse, most of what people say he did as well. And it really upset me inside for a lot of years, because as a child I had idolised this person. But, now I think the way he died was too good for him, so my opinion has done a 360!

There is an extremely damning documentary about him out right now I think, or due to be out. Anyway! Enough of that, sorry to de-rail and everything.

By the way, I notice Jibs that you are quite the man magnet. I don't mean that in a sarcastic way, I mean, men flock to you girl! As someone said here before, you must have your lamp light on sugar, and full beam MAMA!

Lo x

Anyone just want to opt out of modern life, or is it just me?

Again, maybe this is hormones exaggerating my general feelings on this but for example, I always follow a few people on instagram and it's really starting to get on my wick now.

All the feeds the same, attention seeking, self loving (to the extreme), self obsessed, self promoting... lying? It's more like, fake-a-gram. I don't buy it, I don't believe it, I won't have it. I give up with it all.

I gave up with facebook awhile back, I think about 8 months back or more. Excellent. One of the best things I did last year. Completely refreshing. Anyone I really care for or like to speak too, I just do it in real life now. Y'know, that crazy thing, called real life? REAL LIFE PEOPLE! Where has it gone? Where has real life gooooone?! Real interactions, real emotions, not stupid fake ones plastered on a feed like you're some celebrity, everyones got a following. It's painful! I can't put my finger on it but it really doesn't sit right with me and I don't want to have any part of it, even though I have no instagram myself, I feel by simply dedicating some of my time to soullessly browse these things I am part of the piece that keeps the wheel turning.

Nearly all my friends have now met their significant others though online dating sites. Is it just me, or does it have a kind of, sad undertone? Where are the stories? Where is the history of your story?

By that I mean, when I asked my Mum and Dad how they met when I was 8, they told me of how the club was and what my Mum was wearing and how he saw her and what colour her nails were and how my Dad's brother tried to dance with her first and it goes on. Now what, what is the modern day version now? "Mum, Dad, how did you meet?" "Well darling, Mummy was on this website where you advertise yourself for a date and she liked the look of your Dad's profile, he had something witty on there and then we met up for coffee." It's not the same. The magic has gone for me.

Okay, love is love I get that, does it really matter how you meet, as long as you meet, the off side protest. I get it, I get where you're coming from. But we're still animals, and when you see someone, when you meet them, there's something chemical going on there, subconsciously, we don't even know that much about it, but it's going on. And when you are flicking through a website to order up your next live in boyfriend, that chemical exchange, those small physical body messages, everything that goes into the first meeting, it's gone. You're deciding through a screen, and how they wish to present themselves to you, not how you see them there and then in that very moment.

Might get a bit of backlash for this but, I am a romantic by heart and this brave new world of video games and internet dating and swipe contactless whatever is alien to my parchment musky little soul.

Lo x

Omg, I haven't heard that in years..lol, that brought me a smile.

 

I remember the days of hormones gone wild during pregnancy. It won't be like this forever. You also will have bad days, but good days too.

 

Hang in there. Virtual hugs sent.

Hi Sherry!

HA! My thoughts exactly at the time! Maybe I am just old-fashioned!

How did you cope with your crazy moods? I can't remember it being this bad last time but I remember feeling much more angry first time around for some bizarre reason. I think it's like the mother goose around the chicks, she's furious if you get anywhere near, very protective... that's how I feel when pregnant!

Thanks for the virtual hug, means a lot and very sweet!

I should be napping now but I'm not so how can I have a valid complaint about being tired anymore! Nooooo!

Lo x

Yesterday, during our regular lunchtime walk, my coworker Lisa said that she feels bad for Catherine because she's transgender and it will be hard for her to find a job. I found myself vehemently opposed to this statement and wanting to argue it.

 

I said, "Catherine worked as an architect before she was transgender and has worked since she became transgender."

 

Lisa said, "I know, but there's still discrimination"

 

I said, "Nobody in our office discriminated against her. Everyone was extremely welcoming and understanding. And I think if you are transgender, you can't do much better than to choose architecture as a profession because people in this profession tend to be very open-minded."

 

I really have to shut up, though. The climate in this country is such that people can no longer tell the difference between bigotry and a one-off opinion. I feel a witch hunt a-brewin. They're hunting bigots this time, instead of pagans or commies. The irony is (as usual) that the hunt is fueled by oversimplistic, bigoted thinking.

 

People think they learn, but they don't. History repeats itself.

 

My coworkers aren't brandishing their pitchforks or anything, but they are affected. People everywhere are affected to some extent. They trade their rational minds for emotional reaction when they hear certain words or phrases. They can't help it. We're all susceptible to zeitgeist.*

 

A lot of people in my office do feel sympathy for Catherine. If they heard my rant against her they would probably leap to her defense based on her transgenderism alone. They never worked for her, though. They didn't lose three months worth of nights and weekends trying to compensate for her ineptitude. They didn't watch as she TOTALLY dismissed her principal role in an unequivocal failure as some sort of victimization and continued to assume an aura of leadership which she was continuously unable to actually live up to.

 

There is something offensively immoral about her entitled lack of responsibility.

 

-----------------------------------------------

*By the way, if you google that word and see that there is a movie by that name, don't bother watching it. Maybe it does include SOME facts, but I stopped watching when they said that structural steel was heat-proof. They are either bald-faced liars or they simply don't know what they're talking about. Either way, they are passing off false statements as truth. Crazy how film gives frauds an air of legitimacy.

Jibralta, regarding the transgender issue, you know, I completely know where you're coming from here and I can't agree more. It's like, there are these selected "protected" states or "types" of people (which the concept of that to me is insane anyway but there it is) where if you say not even something bad, not even a criticism, it's just if you say something that is not complete and utter abundant praise, you are a monster. I've had this myself, not just about someone who was transgender (don't know anyone directly or closely) but I've even had long term friends over night turn and ditch me, and not to my face either, just fade themselves completely and obviously out and then slag me off behind my back to everyone else I still know whilst telling them they're in "terrible company" dealing with a "bigot like me".

My eyes are rolling for you, I know the temptation you wrestled with there! Trust me, the attitude surrounding policing speech just makes me want to go full throttle but sometimes for your own interests you have to take a step back, hard as that can be. Well I mean, I don't actually believe what I've just said there at all, I think you should say what you want when you want but, I'm trying to be sensible here and say, you made the right call at that time. I do believe that. Well done haha!

Lo x

PS your journal is just so fantastic. I love the way you write. I really do!

A Womans Work Is Never Done

By God, is it ever.

I think it's because the hormones are everywhere maybe, I don't know, but lately, the past few weeks, EVERYTHING has been irritating me to hell. And not just irritating, but even upsetting me. I see a hopelessness constantly everywhere I look. All my positivity has drained away. All I can see are problems that need fixing, things that need cleaning, to do lists that are getting longer, and longer, and longer. Tired, tired, tired. No time, not enough time, too much to do and D, it feels like his understanding is very limited at the moment. His patience with my moods have gone and now he is annoyed as well and keeps telling me to get it together and be more optimistic for God's sake, even if I have to fake it.

How can I tell him - sorry, but do you know what it's like to be pregnant? Do you know the rollercoaster that is going on inside here? I am at my wits end internally. Don't know what the image projecting on the outside is doing, at the moment it's mostly in long neutral vests, black leggings, ankle boots and some kind of maybe afro curl crop thing going on on top of the head. I feel so aggressive as well. I remember this now from last time. And I just cannot, cannot stand or take any criticism at all, even when normally I'm pretty good natured about it. Lately, everything feels like an attack on me.

The only comfort I am getting through the feelings of exhaustion and nausea is waking up to look after my beautiful little B every morning. I can't seem to be moody or mad at him for any reason at all. But D! THE HUSBAND! The husband is GETTING IT IN THE NECK!

I hate his stupid advice! Just leave the housework! OH YEAH! And wait for it to build up in two or three days to leave me with a real mission chore on my hands and then I can tire myself into the early hours trying to clean this 4 storey hulk of a thing all by myself?

I am desperate and irrationally deciding a maid would be the only solution. We could technically have one but D won't hear anything about it. I stay at home, this is my bag he says. Okay, we both agreed it is, and yes, I'm also a control freak about the cleaning, could I allow someone to do it their own way around here? I would struggle. But again, I am irrational, moody, angry and pregnant and I can't go on, obviously. So I dream of a maid. And a couple of servants. A butler would do nicely. But he'd irritate me too, so would the maids. ARGH!

I can't be bothered to go out, energy has left me. The day is absolutely beautiful, glorious winter sunshine. Freezing cold but glorious. The only thing that will have me wrap up my little bundle and snuggle him into the pram is the idea that we could go through the park to then get Mummy the nice food that she is craving. Yessssssss... that will do! THAT'S THE TICKET!

I have been mean I guess but at the moment I won't admit it.

D left this morning to work away. Obviously I couldn't believe how he could even leave me whilst pregnant and emotional and with a 1 year old held around my leg but, I gave him a piece about that, irrational I know when I look back at it but at the time I was in mortal danger and I felt like the pregnant woman in 'Gone With The Wind' as if he had abandoned me to a rickety carriage in the rain during a civil war. A civil war is going on inside my head right now. Whether to be civil or not. That's the war. And it's not gone with the wind, it's gone with the sanity. Gone with it all. Nothing left.

When he was leaving, he dared asked me to go fetch the laptop because "I already have my shoes tied." I could've killed him. How dare he. While I struggle to dress my little wriggler up here he wants me to trudge 3 flights of stairs so I can deliver this thing he needs. I felt like saying, "UNTIE YOUR SHOES GET IT YOURSELF YOU LAZY B*****D!" But instead I just got it like a huffy teenager and said to him, "Just GO."

And that's how horribly we have left things. And no phone call. He hasn't even tried to text me or ring me to make up. I hardly want it anyway.

So angry, so moody, so tired.

Rant rant raaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnt.

But the suns out so there's ya optimism Mr D.

Lo x

Yes, you can. The heart expands....you'll see ;)

 

Congratulations. x

Thank you SherrySher, a lovely comment - I have a feeling it will too ;)

Lo x

The work of hormones must be partly at play here... cue all my soppiness.

I have no one else to turn too apart from D and I have no one else to say, I just want to shout it out because I am over the moon but terrified at the same time!

I found out I am pregnant again with, dum dum duuuummm, number 2! Baby on board! AGAIN!

It feels like my little B was only tiny and curled in my arms for the first time yesterday. Everyone told me it would fly by. I never believed them but it's true. And I always wanted a small age gap, and now I have my wish I don't know whether I am insane or not now reality is starting to sink in.

I don't want to count my chickens, these are very early days, I realise miscarriage is quite common. I am 29 and feel a sense of relief I guess through pressure I put on my own self to have two babies in my 20s. If everything goes okay with our second bubba, there will be just under 18 months between them and I will be 29 when they are born.

It feels so strange to think of myself having two, to think of little B having a brother or sister. I don't even know if I can love another baby like I love him? Is that a taboo fear? I'm not sure. It's how I feel.

Can I do this with two? Oh my gawd!

Anyway, what a blatant splurge - just had to get it out there and say it! We don't want to tell anyone until quite far down with this one. I know so many friends who have experienced miscarriages lately, it just reminds you how awful it is to have that surge of complete and utter wonderment and joy, to share your news, only to have to then tell everyone it was a blip almost, it's like it never happened.

I am slightly terrified through my excitement.

Yes, I must be insane. Insane but pregnant. Again.

Lo x

Tonight, as I was rocking little B to sleep, I could see his beautiful face aglow by the string of moon and star lights along the wall, and he was just staring, staring at my face with a look so full of love and contentedness. After what felt like along time, he reached a hand out and placed one chubby finger at my lips, eyes still locked with mine. He put his finger into my mouth, and a huge, peaceful smile spread across his cupid bow lips. The little gap in-between his two front teeth was visible. The way to tell a real, broad smile from my little B.

And then, with both hands clasping each side of my cheeks, he opened his mouth, still smiling that peaceful, soft, broad smile; and pulled my face towards his to kiss me for the very first time. And he wouldn't stop. Over and over, he kept smiling, staring, and pulling me gently to him, back and forth, until his lids closed, his pale, pretty lids, and his body relaxed into that deep, magical baby sleep.

I watched a Tom Ford movie alone a few days ago, 'A Single Man', and was very impressed with its beauty and script but also extremely saddened at the same time.

There is a line right at the end that had me blubbering. And with my son in my arms in the warm light, I realised why I had cried.

At this time in my life, the line resonated with me. It simply and beautifully explains how I am feeling. It explains how I felt the night I met D. Those big, huge significant, life changing moments, but also the little ones, just as important. And it goes like this:

'A few times in my life I've had moments of clarity, where the silence drowns out the noise, and I can feel, rather than think."

I could die right now completely happy and satisfied that I have lived my life and experienced everything and more any one girl could wish for.

Full of love.

Lo x

Well, here I go posting twice on your thread....

 

 

 

This part of your post reminded me of the video for this song. The video doesn't seem to relate much to the song lyrics, but it somehow fits the music. I like the quiet, simple life that it portrays. People going about their daily routines, lots of land, lots of sky, not much money. The video actually makes me listen to the song more.

 

[video=youtube;-5Ae-LhMIG0]

What a fantastic video - this is EXACTLY my feeling and thoughts whenever I think of Southern America! Sometimes I think maybe 1950's but apart from that, I loved watching this video... like my thoughts put onto the screen! Wasn't keen on the song Jibralta but the video captures that feeling I get or, kinda of my idealised version of that part of America.

Fab, thank you.

Lo x

Great post.

 

I love that song, too. Have you heard Celine Dion's version, or better yet, Pomplamoose's version?

 

Thank you Jibralta - no I haven't I am going to give this a listen!

x

When I look at D, when he talks to me, when we touch, I can't believe anyone can be in love the way we are in love. When I look at my son, I can't believe anyone can love a baby as much as I must love him.

I see other couples and, I don't see it. They don't touch like us, they don't talk like us. We are in our own world.

When I broke up with my best friend, kind of, break up really, was she really my friend at all, she got me wrong, she thought she knew me but she didn't know me at all.

We're on the phone and she wants blood, the start of a potential blazing row, and I promise myself there and then I will not swear, and I don't, and I remain completely calm. I'm doing all the talking, she is listening, passive in her car, pulled over, I'm coming out through her loud speaker and this is the last she'll ever hear of me - I think she's glad, but she's crying because baby, don't the truth just hurt. I want to hurt her, instinctively, she is so wrong, and she doesn't care about hurting me, and she is trying to hurt me, it's got that low, but what she doesn't realise is she can't tell me anything I don't already know about myself, and I freely and openly admit my faults, and I lay my wears out on the table in front for all to see and yes, if they make the decision it's clear, this is who I am. She is trying to change me. She doesn't want me to be me. I should've been more organised. I should've been a better friend. I should get myself together, I need to plan ahead, I need to work within her time frame, I need to understand. She wants to mould me into what her boring little sheep middle class mind wants out of a girlfriend, someone to drink coffee mindlessly with and pretend to have a conversation but never even listen to each other and just talk over the other one waiting for the next thing to say. She wanted an obedient little sweet pet. Problem is, she's no perfection either, yet she is demanding it from me.

Sorry, my husband and my baby come first. First even before your hen do, if you can believe it. And I don't care how you feel about that. I hurt your feelings? You've hurt my feelings, but you don't seem to care about that, but I should care about yours even though you don't care about mine?

How can she lie and say "You're like a f*****g sister to me". Such tripe. Drama talk. Drama, drama, drama.

Then she says in the most horrible, snarl tone, "We all knew you wouldn't come." As if by saying that, she is going to somehow twist a dagger into me, because I am supposed to care what her other fake friends say about me behind my back? Oh they smiled at me! But now she admits they all talk about me, probably have a right laugh - I just think, how boring must their lives be to drudge my name up to make a conversation. Nothing better to do? Pitiful. And I don't care, I just don't care about any of it or what any of them think or what she thinks. All I can think is, you're nobody to me, I'm nobody to you, I don't care, we don't care, there's nothing more to say, surely. This is not a friendship.

I try and explain why we have such a ridge between us, I try to open up and articulate to her and I can hear even in the last moments of honesty she can't even match my offering and she is scoffing whilst I talk under her upset breathing and I finish and she snaps nastily, "All you've done for the last 15 minutes is talk about yourself. Typical. Are you finished?"

I had to hurl a pillow underneath my leg across the room. I was trying to throw her a bone. I was trying to explain, it's not you, darling... it's me. Let's move on. Nicely.

And I've wasted an hour of my time down the phone. I'll send the bridesmaid dress back. Basically, have a nice life, again, not that I care anymore and not that you do really. So different, we were so different it just became impossible to navigate.

She took her now husband, took the bits she didn't like and manipulated him to change over a number of years, and now he is her little dog on her lead, and that's what she wanted from me. Hunny, you picked the wrong puppy! Because I ain't your dog. We're different breeds. She knows it too.

And from moving on from this, from getting away from social media, and leaving my old past behind, everyone who is stuck in their ways, never moving, I have felt extremely free. I hardly have any links to that old life, and I never fitted in there anyway, and I have my King by my side, and I'm his Queen, and it's us against the world, and the world often rolls with us, we have things under wraps.

When you're happy, and when you're moving constantly towards what you want, your dreams, goals, passions - the things that make you tick - when you're true to yourself, when you're honest to your soul, you have no energy, no resources, no drive to wonder, to think, to even bother with those people who can only want to change you, bring you down, bring you to their level. They just kind of... disappear.

Does she think about me? I don't know. Conceited as it sounds, I imagine so. Do I think about her? Sometimes. But it's less, and less, and less, until it's nearly never now.

I dreamed about her last night, maybe for the last time. It was dark, pitch black night. I was standing in front of our house, there were only orange street lamps on, no one else around apart from I could kind of sense D was beside me somewhere. She was across the other side of the road, and she was walking away. And it was like, a vamped up version of her real life self, she was far more sexy, sassy, wearing extremely high heels. And I thought in my head, "Is she more feminine than me?" And then as if to answer my inner thoughts, D's voice was at the side of me but I still couldn't see him, and he answered, "She's more feminine than you." And I woke up. And she's not at all, not that that matters. Am I questioning my femininity lately? Am I feeling, you know, empowered some way, innerly quite a confident, masculine feeling? I don't know what dreams are trying to tell you, if they try and tell you anything at all, but I don't know, I kinda woke up with a kind of peace, but a feeling of rivalry. Am I competing against something that doesn't exist? Who knows. I just know that now, I feel great. Things are great. I feel like, so corny as this is, I am a forest, and there has been a fire, a forest fire, so destructive, and things have been raw and bleak and bare, but out of it all the drift wood has been gotten rid of and it's gone, and shoots are starting to peek through. Spring is coming. I feel renewed.

Daily I have been overwhelmed with happiness. To the point where I feel like crying. I look at my little boy, I look at my husband, that is enough, right there. I could die now. I could die happy. I would die with peace. I have had everything already and more than most. I have conquered my own heart by giving it away. Those boys have all of it, and there is now no more room for anything else but them. Nothing else but love.

I once worked with a lady who came in, quite new, when I worked in a corporate, legal office. My manager (whom I was assistant to) and other girls there, they used to always laugh at me, such a ditz, you know, all that. Sometimes they were quite mean. I don't care. Better to let them think you're dumb than too clever. This new lady that had started turned round when they must've been jibing me whilst I was on the phone to a client, and she said, "You think she just sits there and takes from her husband. You're wrong. She's sharp as a dart. She's a business woman."

I kinda half stopped talking and tried to carry on speaking, I had to ask the client on the end of the phone to repeat themselves. I had never had such a compliment and such a defence from someone who had only known me a few months. I was young, she was much older, but the other women shut up instantly. I think they knew it was... true?

You know, I give off that impression. I almost like people to get it wrong. I work all the time. I constantly support my husband. I deal with a lot of his clients also. This is all small stuff to me. I'm not bragging, I don't move mountains but it's so kind of, part of the parcel. I was there with him from the start. He came to me across that bar, a grin so cheeky, he wasn't rich, he had ideas, but I knew, I saw it in his eyes. Difference between a feline and a dog. He had a slink to him. Two minds met that night, they've been together ever since. I wouldn't change anything from the world. Yup, a ditz. A ditz when it doesn't matter. All the small things, everything everyone might think, they can think away. They can think away while I work away.

Lo x

You're my favorite kinda lovin

My kinda lovin

Stop

Don't move a muscle

The light is kissing your pretty face

I can't seem to look away

Oh, come here

Come closer

I could stay here with you all day

You're a summer holiday

This just ain't no ordinary thing we have

I can't go back

Upward through the ceiling into outer space

All I can say is

You're my favorite kinda lovin

My kinda lovin

You keep my head spinning

I can't understand it

It's our private planet

Pushing past all the limits

I hate to admit it

I can't shake this feeling

This just ain't no ordinary thing we have

I can't go back

Upward through the ceiling into outer space

All I can say is

You're my favorite kinda lovin

My kinda lovin

My kinda lovin

- CLARA, 'My Kinda' Lovin'

And I cry, I cry, even my eye cry

But who cares?

Who cares?

And I cry, I cry, even my eye cry

But who cares?

Who cares?

- Stefflon Don 'Hurtin' Me'

As they say, two can play

But keep that song away from me

In my time too much love

Has made me sad for so long

I was lost, can't you see

Through the long lonely night

Heaven knows, I believe

Won't you take a chance with me

Sometimes I get so blue

People say I'm just a fool

All the world, even you

Should learn to love the way I do

I was blind, can't you see

Through the long lonely night

Heaven knows, I believe

You can take a chance with me

- Roxy Music, 'Take A Chance With Me'

I got my money, I ain't worried about what y'all think

Don't get it twisted, don't think I'm that type of chick

- Amara la Negra 'What A Bam Bam'

But you are invincible

I can't break through your world

'Cause you live in shades of cool

Your heart is unbreakable

'Cause you live in shades of cool

- Lana Del Rey 'Shades of Cool'

Arnold does so much for me, and I often hesitate to talk about it with other people. I hesitate because in many ways he takes a woman's role and I don't want to emasculate him to others. For the record, Arnold is completely comfortable with his 'feminine' role, and if you want to challenge him about it, I guarantee that you're the one who will walk away feeling weird about yourself. But even so, I feel protective of him in this particular aspect of our lives even as I learn to recognize how undervalued the traditional woman's role truly is. I realize the irony of this sentiment, particularly in the sociological climate of the last 40 years.

 

Arnold does all of the cooking, the dish washing, the laundry, the food shopping, and much of the cleaning. He plans all of my meals, prepares them, divvies them up for the week, and packs my lunch every day. When I wake up in the morning, my coffee is ready for me. When I get home, he unpacks my lunch bag and puts everything in the dishwasher or washes it out. If he is home before me, he prepares my dinner. If not, I microwave a meal that he prepared for me in advance. He keeps the kitchen and the refrigerator clean and organized.

 

Before Arnold assumed these duties, I cooked, cleaned, and shopped for myself. I did all of the laundry. I did these chores for years. On top of my long work week, they were exhausting.

 

Things changed about two years ago, when I started preparing for my licensing exams. I had seven tests to pass, and five years to pass them all or I'd have to start again from square one. That meant I had to get through all of them as quickly as possible, to make time for possible re-takes. I had to devote basically every waking moment outside of work to studying, and this is when Arnold began to take responsibility for all of the chores. He made sure that all I had to worry about was eating, sleeping, working, and studying.

 

If he hadn't taken up the slack, half of my brain would have been distracted from my studies at all times, trying to plan a shopping list or worrying about cleaning the dishes, etc. Because of Arnold's support, I didn't worry about any of these things and I managed to pass all seven tests within a year. After my exams ended, Arnold kept doing the chores. His reasoning was( and still is) that he has a lot more free time in his day than I do. He can do the chores and still spend hours schmoozing around playing video games and whatever.

 

I remember talking to my former coworker, Ben, about passing all of the tests. Ben hadn't passed the tests and he'd been at it a lot longer than me. I said, "If it wasn't for Arnold, I never would have been able to do this." Ben perked up and said, "Oh yeah? How did he help you?" I think he expected me to say that Arnold was an architect who already knew all of the answers, and that he guided me through the process. Ben did not seem to know how to react when I said, "Well, Arnold did all of the dishes and the laundry, and cooked my meals..." People simply don't appreciate how powerful this kind of support is.

 

While I was studying for my exams, I took an exam prep course. There were about 16 classes over a three month period. Each class was 8 hours. I got to know a couple of the other students. A lot of them were my age, with families. One woman had three kids, and dreaded going home after class ended because she still had to prepare dinner and do the laundry. Her husband stayed home to watch the kids while she was in class, but he didn't do housework. He played video games.

 

I really sympathized with her because I knew how much weight had been lifted from my shoulders when Arnold started taking responsibility for the chores. I wanted to tell her about it, but I bit my tongue. I knew it would just make her feel worse. So, that's another reason why I don't talk about it much.

 

I appreciate Arnold so much. I tell him this, but I also want to scream it to the sky. Arnold is the most supportive person that I have in my life. He made it possible for me to focus on my studies and pass my exams. He makes it possible for me to relax after a long day at work. On top of this, he is my best friend and we enjoy life together. Having Arnold in my life has improved the quality of my life immeasurably. I am so grateful.

Sorry to bombard you with another reply Jibralta, but I just had to comment!

It's so lovely that you appreciate Arnold, really, not many people tell each other that, people need to hear it from time to time. You both sound great together.

I do Arnolds role but I'm the woman (obviously, HA!) for my husband. Apart from me and my husband being extremely traditional and him just naturally dominant/leader type and me very submissive in that feminine way to him my reasons are the same as Arnolds. My husband works tremendously hard, hours hardly anyone in their right mind would pull, he takes on all this risk and stress and employs people and I think not only do I want too, but the least I can do is make sure that is all he has to think about.

People often look with disapproval as if I am downtrodden or something, when I joke he hasn't had to wash one single dish for 10 years. It's my role, for myself and for him. My husband often says what a support it is that when he's not working he can just relax, everything else is taken care of. I cook all his meals, bring him breakfast in bed or at the table, make sure his clothes are out and ironed for the day. I even run him a bath.

Using my own experience, I am sure Arnold never feels under appreciated and he sounds very satisfied and contented in his role.

Your dynamic is your dynamic. Best of luck to you both

Lo x

Hey Jibralta!

Not been around ENA much lately with having a baby but I just thought I wanted to check in on you - I knew you had a journal, I've just read some of your entries.

Your entry about Shannon blew me away. You made me go there. I know that sounds corny but you put me in your shoes.

You really have a gift for writing. Please don't stop.

I'm out of the job world but I find your posts on office life hilarious ;) I gotta say, you have to laugh don't you.

Hope you're good.

From a fellow clothes addict,

Lo x

Ever rediscover something you loved or habitually did or liked many years ago suddenly out of nowhere? And then realise you love it just the same and forget any time passed between you leaving or stopping your hobby or liking or whatever your fancy was and you fall right back into a kind of nostalgic obsession?

I've got the way about YouTube lately, or I should say, someone I used to always watch and listen too on there. She is a early 30s, conservative, anti-feminist home maker and she has a lot of forth-right alternative opinions, I see her as a kind of tonic to the liberal la la land I feel I'm living in at the moment. Anyway, I used to always watch her in-between everyday life, she never posted much and had very little videos when I first found her channel but I hadn't searched for anything from her for years until yesterday. I don't know why, she just popped right up into my memory and I had to see if she was still on there and low and behold, she now has a pretty huge following and plenty of videos so I just had to watch as many as I could in-between ironing and B napping. Addicted. It sounds sad doesn't it but, listening to her makes me feel a little bit less alone in my kind of, way I chose to live my life and the way I think. I know no one where I live or where I have lived that think like myself or my husband. I sometimes wish I had a female friend like her. Someone I really connected too on a deep level of mutual understanding. I'm not saying we have to be the same or like the same things but, the core principles of us and the energy with which we attack life, it would be nice I guess, to share in that with another woman. I find it in plenty of men but never women. Not round here, anyway.

Sometimes when I'm drifting off to sleep at night I imagine this idealised version of small town America in the deep south. Somewhere quiet and quaint and friendly, full of old passed down traditions. Never really changing. Letting the modern, rushed world happen somewhere "out there" and letting it all be of no concern or thought to this little piece of prairie America. Women creating a community while the men go off to work, children running freely between houses, playing in the woods, going in and out of neighbours houses. Women popping in for coffee and pie in each others kitchenettes. Women wearing cooking aprons during the day, everyone busy but there's a beautifully slow pace to everything. Dive bars lit up at night. Men wearing cowboy hats. Jeans. House dresses. It sends me off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Women are too busy working their fingers to the bone climbing the corporate ladder to form town and street communities now. I feel it's part of a breakdown in modern society. They used to be the ones doing the bake sales, organising Halloween walks through the park, cutting the grass out the front and saying good morning to everyone passing by. They used to be involved in their children's school, the yard sales, the charity events, street Christmas gatherings hosted in a different house each year, etc. Now, nothing. Streets are like ghost streets, you never see anyone come or go. The only light on a night to be seen in peoples living rooms is the bright, white flickering of their TVs. Depressing.

In this house, in my house; out there, it might be 2018, but in here, it's 1954, and there's no TV in this house, and I have jazz quietly playing in the lounge and it drifts out up echoing all around the hall, it bounces off the wooden flooring. Even on a rainy day, people can be rushing by, but there is a heavenly calm in this house. A calm and history of this being a home again and again and again you only get after these bricks, mortar, detailed ceilings, have been through 150 years. All the knowledge wrapped up inside this house. If these walls could talk? That's what I often think about as well. This house has an atmosphere. It's more than a home. The air is even different in here. You'd know what I'd mean if you could be here, it makes no sense written down, words can't explain it, but no one ever wants to leave once they come in.

Which brings me back to my YouTube maiden of tradition gone - and something that stood out to me, it was if I were her and she was speaking as me! She said the exact same thing I would say. One of her videos was, someone had sent in a question and asked her who her favourite female fiction character was and she said, "Mortisha Adams". Now, I couldn't agree more. She is mine! But it's not just she admires the same character as me, it was her reason behind choosing her, which is exxxxxaaactly the same reason as mine. Which was - this lady couldn't give a fig what anyone else thinks of them. They live life exactly how they want to live it. They're different from everyone else around them. They're weird, kooky. She's gothically beautiful, timelessly elegant, always put together. She is a fantastic mother, she is a mother her own way. She is a fantastic wife. And most of all, her and Gomez are a complete team. A passionate, heady team and they love each other more than anything. What a combination. Everything I admire.

Not that I am this gothic ethereal thing, HA! But, The Adams Family remind me of, well, me and my husband. Big old house, kooky, modern world out there, it's a different time zone inside, our house is full of antiques and, everyone kind of thinks we're crazy! But we do things our own way and have our own opinions. And we are truly a family now, with our little son.

It's strange, I'm not religious at all, I don't even know if I would class myself as "spiritual" or whatever but, I don't believe in signs from the divine or anything like that but lately, everything seems to be pointing towards one thing.

Lately, we've been struggling a smidge with finances.

I'm not about to get out the violin or anything, things are overall fine - it's a cash flow problem. We are asset rich but, we have a cash flow problem. I realise how pretentious that sounds, it sounds like a rich persons problem of basically saying they're maybe temporarily a bit broke. It's true though.

I look young for my age. I'm 28. Everyone thinks I'm younger. I have rosy cheeks, I'm flat chested, I just look young, and I drive a car worth more than some peoples house. This is a fairly new thing. I always dreamed secretly of driving a really nice car. So you say, my dreams have come true, how does it feel?

Well, when you're driving this car and you're also worrying about budgeting, you feel like an a*****e, you really do. And on top of that, everyone looks at you in it. Then, everyone looks at you when you get OUT of it. And everyone especially looks at you when you get out of it because you look young and they expect an old man to be getting out of it I guess. Oh yeah, BOO HOO, woe is me it's terrible, but I'm saying that it's a weird thing. I thought I would enjoy it more but frankly, I'm just always painfully embarrassed.

I park it way, way away. I love driving at night because no one can see me. I feel like I should be apologising constantly for having it, for driving it. I never mention it to anyone I know. I never say what we drive, I never discuss cars, nothing. I'd rather no one knew. It makes me feel like a d**k. It's not a high performance sports car or anything, we have a baby but, y'know, I've realised I don't like a certain type of attention. I'll never be ostentatious. Now I realise that. If you have the luxury to be ostentatious, if really does say a lot to me whether you choose to be that way or not. It's not a bad or a good thing in my opinion but, lets just say I know that is not what I am.

And I am part French I found out. Explains having no . No , boyish way about me, gap between my two front teeth, likes a neck scarf, likes a crisp shirt, never gets too overdressed for an occasion, always wears lipstick but never much other make-up, skinny, hates long nails. I am ticking the French boxes here. But I hate wine! HA! My Grandma explained to me it's her side of the family. They have a French surname I should've known but I never thought about it. It's strange because the first time I met D, one of the first things he said to me is, "You look French." And when I worked at the cocktail bar I met him at, all my colleges used to call me "Frenchie"! Ha! Is that an insult or a compliment, I really don't know. But back to the other train of thought... I'm all over.

All over, and yes. Pointing towards.

Pointing towards... my husband loves boxing. We watched the Tyson Fury fight last week. We both love the boxing. He used to box. Anyway, what a lesson, what a lesson in... getting up. Just get up. That's what everything has been pointing towards lately. Just get up. Lo, you've been feeling down. Money issues. Tired. You want another baby. You feel greedy and guilty for wanting another. You've been in a bit of a lull, mentally. I've felt alone. On an island inside my head. No one understands me but D. I'll never have a real friend. But, just get up. Look around you.

This guy was knocked down for the second time, 12th round. He got back up like it was nothing. Was sparked out cold. No one facing Wilder has ever got up from one of his punches. This is the Irish for you. Hard as nails. What a lesson for life. Get your ass up, stand straight and fight again. Get up and fight. Don't let anyone knock you down.

I love the natural world. I caught myself watching this programme, David Attenborough's "Dynasties". This group of chimps, the alpha male. Wow. It makes you realise. The alpha, he's not just strong and tough as f**k, this guy is smart. I mean smart. He plays them, politically, all of them. And he gets turned on and beat up badly, nearly dead, they thought he was dead, it's ruthless. They leave him for dead, he bides his time, he eats, gets strong, and then pretends he's as strong as ever. He bluffs them all. He wins. He's back in, running the group and then he shows those back stabbers who is boss again but ultimately lets them live, forgives them but doesn't forget. What a story. What a life story. Again, get up, get back up.

You must get back up. It's what separates people going somewhere and doing something. Get up and stop being concealed by your worries.

When I sometimes get a little down, or get a little negative, I have to look around at what I've got and pinch myself. I look in my son's eyes and I feel an amount of love that is, physically, painful to me. He hurts me. His love makes my heart ache with joy. Sometimes, I feel like crying tears of happiness. How can anything be truly wrong when you can look at someone and feel that. To have D in bed with me on a night and my son sleeping in his nursery is heaven on earth. It's heaven on this earth.

And no matter what car I drive, if I drove one at all, no matter this house, in all its old, elegant, timeless glory. I don't care. Because I am not living for myself anymore.

The moment I said "I do", the moment he was in my arms, not a couple of seconds old, I stopped living for me. Life is sometimes hard, but also life is sometimes profoundly, unspeakably beautiful, and I know before I die, whenever that may be, I will not have a second of regret, because I experienced true love.

My father loves Nat King Cole. There is something about Nat King Cole that will always remind me of him.

One of my favourite songs, because of his influence and love for the singer, is also one of the most beautiful and wise lyrically to me. If you've ever heard it, I defy you not to feel like you have been transported to another heavenly plane. When I was young, I felt I understood it. Now in my late 20s, I feel I am only just starting to really understand.

'Nature Boy'

There was a boy

A very strange, enchanted boy

They say he wandered very far

Very far, over land and sea

A little shy and sad of eye

But very wise was he

And then one day

One magic day he passed my way

While we spoke of many things

Fools and Kings

This he said to me:

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn

Is just to love and be loved in return"

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn

Is just to love and be loved in return"

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn

Is just to love and be loved in return"

x

What is it about religious people and me? Do they want rejection?!

Walking in town with my boy sat perkily in his pram and you know, I just know it, there's this youngish man, probably 30, black, energetic, handsome looking, great big white grin on his face but it's plastered on, very forced, fake! And he's singing out something to people hurrying by and pushing leaflets at them and you just know he's preaching and yes, he's preaching about religion, it definitely isn't the newest fabric softener, not for this one.

I walk by, try not to make eye contact but I can't help it, it's morbid curiosity!

"MA'AM, YA KNOW YA CAN BE SAVED!"

"Sorry, no thanks!"

"YA DON'T WANT TO BE SAVED?!!"

"No sorry!"

Ooops! Which gets me thinking.

I've settled into this routine with my little B (thats what I'm calling my baby boy, he really is my little B), and it consists of a walk around a local wild park right near my house. I walk through a certain residential area which is a very nice part of the suburbs. I guess it makes me feel safe and everything's very pleasant and I just feel like it's a nice little pre-curser until we get to the main show which is this old, overgrown but kind of strangely still formal "wild park". By time we get there, come rain or shine, he's always asleep. The sound of the wind through the canopy of leaves from these huge, ancient trees seems to set him off.

With one headphone in my ear I listen endlessly in a kind of daydream walk to peoples opinions and talks and comedies and anything I feel like on YouTube. Lately I've been getting into this interviewer, Joe Rogan - love his style of interview. It's like you've been able to drop your ear in on two really good friends who are totally comfortable with each other just kicking back and talking about the big things and the small things and it doesn't feel like your usual stiff, banal interview at all.

I immediately search Gavin McInnes who, as a bit of a conservative but libertarian Trump loving with a good sense of humour about it kinda gal I really like his style of delivery and also happen to agree with most of the things he talks about, especially regarding feminism and millennial culture etc so, I'm dying to see if Joe Rogan has interviewed this guy and to my delight he has.

Gavin says something quite soon on, I think Joe Rogan brings it up, that on Gavins profile, be in LinkedIn or Facebook or Twitter or whatever, wherever, he just simply states his general stance on most things. I think the example goes something like: Pro-West, Anti-Islam, Anti-Feminist, Pro-Life, yada yada and he just states his general stance and belief I guess, in this quick summary.

You could say its petty, or simplifying, or disagree or you know, I don't agree with all that he stands for, for example I'm not as against abortion as he is, I do agree there is a time and a place for it but I wish it wasn't practiced so freely and lightly and definitely it should never, ever be used as a form of planned contraception but, to have it made unavailable? No I disagree. But the sentiment behind his summary, that is what appealed to me. And he goes on to defend this way of summarisation by saying he thinks we are living in a time of great philosophy, where everyone is philosophising all the time, and there are so many split sides now and it's just like, you need to get it out there where you stand amongst all of this because everyone seems to be in different camps. It struck home to me and I agreed with him.

Sometimes I feel like I need this badge on me with that kind of summarisation. At least it would mean that people who think they like me would be able to make a quick, informed judgement and glance at this thing and then be like, "Ah, okay, she's for that? She's with THAT crowd? I'll leave that coffee invite THANKS lets move on" and it might save me months of socialising for us to get into one deep discussion where we share, hold it, an OPINION! GASP! And then everyone falls out with me because they thought I was just like them but I'm not.

I would love to hear everyones "summarises" ha! Very telling I think but, just a quick throw down of a few that spring to mine, I think mine would read something like:

Pro-Women With Kids Staying At Home, Anti-Feminist, Anti-Islam, Pro-Free Speech, Pro-Not Taking Yourself Too Seriously, Anti-Religion, Pro-Trump, Pro-Brexit, Anti-Labour Party, Anti-Middle Class Life Is The Best Mentality, Pro-Strong Opinions, Pro-Luxury Interior Design! Anti-Fake Humble Brag, Pro-Offence, Pro-Help Yourself, Anti-Benefits, Anti-Homeless People Begging, Pro-Tommy Robinson, Anti-Endless Immigration, Pro-Nigel Farage, Anti-Legalise Drugs, Pro-Euthanisa, Anti-Assign Your Own Gender, Pro-Marriage, Pro-Gay Rights.

Maybe that makes me sound like an awful person! Just a few out there. Maybe it builds a picture, maybe it doesn't! Thought it was an interesting exercise.

I wonder what life would be like if we were all so much more transparent and just put it out there a bit more? It's a social taboo and very un-charming isn't it, to just blurt it out, but often in life I dance around in pleasant, trivial conversation with so many people I meet and I find after months of this they know nothing of substance about me and I know nothing of substance about them. I ask so many questions but I get such flat answers, and no one asks anything of me.

Lo x

Your PERFECTLY IMPERFECT LOLLY Xxx

Ohhhh Silverbirch!!

You are so sweet! I always feel like you are quietly cheering me on no matter what I seem to do or how stupid I can be on here; for that I thank you, you're a saint!

I hope you're well?

Lo x