Two Songs

I'm obsessed with two songs at the moment.

Lily Allen's version of one of my favourites from Keane 

and

this years BBC Children in Need single performed by Ellie Goulding, this is a love song, but it could be about; your child, your sibling, your parent, your friend, your lover.  It could be about anyone you love, maybe that is what makes it so special.

Let there be Faz, Let there be Light

Yesterday, the 4th, was my one month anniversary at my new job.  I felt almost as lost as I did one month ago.  I struggle with everything except conversation and smiling.  I attract interest wherever I go, (I think they are just a friendly and open bunch and want to enquire and chat,) every time that I set foot off of my floor, I bump into at least one person that I used to work with (but it's usually two or three of them,) from when I worked three floors below.  It's actually lovely to see familiar faces and to see people who want to know that the heck I'm doing back there.

Today, I got a massive wave and hug from Fasil, Faz to his friends.  It was so lovely to see him because when I left the fifth floor, thirteen months ago, you know me Col, I hate fuss about me and so I had opted to try to slip away, with the least fuss, like a stone floating silently to the river bed.

Faz was on leave when I left but soon after I started the new job, I got an email from my friend Paul telling me that Faz was so sad that I'd left and he didn't get a chance to say goodbye.  I did try emailing Faz from my new location but he never received it.

Fate is a curious thing and so I'm standing in the atrium, hugging Faz, so, so, happy to see this lovely man again.  We chatted for five minutes about where I was, how I was struggling, how his dissertation was going and the wonders of You tube, as professed by his father-in-law.  It was great.

This morning, I struggled with my tasks, I make a total cock up of the first task.  Correction, what I did was right, however, I was in the wrong "mode" therefore, everything I did, was wasted.

I took a deep breath, re-did everything and it was good.  Then I took my break, got a hug from Faz, did another three, number driven tasks and.... they were all good.  Something, has finally sunk in, something has stuck, I now know how to do... something.  Praise the Lord.

After a month long migraine, maybe I can just about see a tiny, weeny, chink of light at the end of this particular tunnel.

Crystal Tipps

Around five years ago, I decided to leave my go-to, swanky hair salon.  My go-to favourite hair stylist had left to relocate to pastures new, her boyfriend lived up-north and so, so must she.

I tried a new stylist at the old place, but for the money I was paying, I wasn't impressed.  So I figured that I would rather be not completely happy for half the price, than not completely happy for full price and so I re-located my head, to a salon closer to home.

Five years later and my hairdresser, who is lovely and does a brilliant job with my unruly hair, well, she leaves and I cannot follow, my new working hours will not fit into her new working pattern.

And so I'm stuck, I need to find a new place to be pampered and a place to work magic.

So, with some trepidation, yesterday, I embarked on an adventure to find a new stylist.  I did a little research, some on foot, some on the web and decided to give one salon a try.

I chose this particular salon because the website looks professional, they use sulphate free shampoos, they have pricing depending on level of experience of the stylists and they do late nights.

I arrived three minutes early and was warmly greeted by the proprietor, who had fabulous hair.  I am ushered to a chair to speak to my new hair stylist where she asks me what I want and takes a look at the head.  This I like, because my hair looks totally different dry from wet, you don't see the frizz, the width or the waywardness when it's wet.

One wash and one coffee later and my new stylist is still cutting my hair.  She is slow and precise and that is not a complaint, it was actually really relaxing but so different from my old place where I was in, washed, cut, dried and out within thirty minutes. 

An hour later and I am shorn and blow dried straight.  I think it looks good, of course, you can never tell until you try to do it yourself, but I will be going back there. 

Newbie #2

Hello Sweetie,

apologies for being AWOL but as you will now know from last night's conversation, the new job has taken over my life for the time being.  I will go into more detail but for now, a brief overview.

So, I'm three weeks into the new job.  Initial impression is... really nice people, I'm on a small team, now a team of four... including me, which is attached to a larger team.  My initial team are all lovely, two gents and my immediate boss is a female, an engaging and laid back woman of Irish decent.  There is nothing like the Irish accent, I've long been a fan and lovely to hear that lilt every day.  It's very calming.

The work, is like nothing I've ever done before, I'm now all spreadsheets, numbers, pivot tables and reports and I can't tell you how much my brain aches.

My commute time is now into hours, I would guess two hours a day on average, on a good day, in rush hour traffic.... in the pitch dark. 

Between the commute, in the dark, in rush hour traffic and the numbers, spreadsheets etc, my brain is well and truly poached by the time I put my key into my front door. 

I am making copious notes while my extremely patient "buddy" Pete, explains everything, step by painful step, he is such a whizz but thankfully, also patient and never makes me feel stupid, (I do that all on my own.)  Eventually, (I think they are talking in weeks rather than years,) I will take over Pete's duties, God willing.  I am so, out of my depth.

I'm really not sure why they hired me, I think there must have been a mistake somewhere along the line and it's only a matter of time before I'm found out.

Newbie

Needless to say, I hardly slept on Sunday night in preparation for the commencement of my next chapter.  Incidentally, I'm so, "next chapter'd" out, I sincerely hope that this is my last, "next chapter" for a good while.

Truthfully, everyone was lovely and welcoming and there wasn't anyone I didn't like straight away.  On the other hand, I feel like they've hired the wrong person.  I feel like I'm at least one degree short of even being allowed to converse with these lovely people, and don't even get me stared on the actual work, it's so complicated and I am SO out of my depth.

I had a bit of a chat with my new manager on day one and after a while, she told me to, "relax, you got the job!"  I must have just oozed panic from my face. 

By Wednesday, I knew that I couldn't sustain the panic.  I gave myself a good talking to and resolved to study study study.

My working week has been turned upside down.  Where I used to work until 2.30pm and have a ten minute journey home, I am now required to work until at least 4pm, but so far, I haven't finished until 4.15pm at the earliest, which means my hour long journey home lands slap bang in the middle of rush hour, which transforms my journey to around 75 minutes, at least.  By the time I get home, I'm too tired to eat and simply long to slip into a coma.  And... one day each week, I think I'm going to need to work until 6pm which means I won't be home until 7.

It's far from terrible, it's just different and will take my, (suddenly feeling old body and,) brain, a little time to adjust to the new schedule.

I'm missing a lot of people this week.  OK, I'm missing two people.  I have always been like this, it's a fault with me.  People I connect with on my journey, I wish I could take with me until the end.  That's not life though, that's not the case and I really should know by now that some special people in my life, it may only be a transient affair.

Tomorrow is Monday and this morning, I jogged, wearing my Rocky Balboa t-shirt.  I'm feeling positive people.  This was my lucky break.  This is just the start.  I need to hold my head high and act the part... until I can acutally live it.

Last Day

My last day at the old job has arrived and I'm keen to get it over with.  I hate fuss about me and would quite happily slip out, unnoticed, at the end of the day.  I'm not a bit Leonine, am I?

My morning is fragranced by eight bunches of flowers, from lilies to roses to carnations, to more roses and endless "good luck" cards, lip gloss collections, lip balm collections, (they know me so well,) and a beautiful keyring bearing the words of Helen Steiner Rice, chocolates, wine, it went on and on.  I have only been there for thirteen months and this is all so unexpected.

I survive the trauma of my "presentation", largely due to the surprise nature of it, (I thought people were getting up to go for lunch and not to gather around my desk,) but mostly due to the laid back, relaxed nature of my manager who made the whole thing both lovely and touching and painless.

Some people you meet in life, we are with them for a fleeting moment, some people you connect with on such a deep level and you wish you could take them with you, but you know that you can't.  Some people, I'll miss, forever.

Just before noon, I received an email from my friend Paul who I used to sit next to at my last job, (I'll be returning to the same building three floors higher... for my new job.)  "Hello Miss J, are you excited or nervous to be returning home? xx"

He warmed my cockles, and I can't even tell you what he would say to that.  I'm nervous but yes, I do feel feel like I'm returning home and even though I'll be working with all new people, I know that I have friends three floors below me.  That is quite a comfort.

I wish I could take one person with me, from this job.  Life is a journey right?  I just hate moving on and leaving behind people that I care about, that's the part I don't like.  I wish we could keep everyone that you care about, with us, forever.

Shrink Rap

You know that I analyse.  I am an analyser.  I'm really keen to get to my new job but there is something bothering me.  Some of my colleagues also interviewed for the same job but didn't get it.  They did however get some feedback on their interviews and it makes for interesting, (for me,) criticism.  One referred to their notes too much.  My notes sat armed and ready to fire from my lap, but I didn't look at them once, they're more of a life jacket for the drowning, than a script.  One isn't, "corporate" enough.  Am I corporate?  I didn't know I was even remotely corporate.  Does that mean I've been brainwashed?

Since I found out that I got the job, I've joked that they've phoned the wrong person, (as the day of reckoning was fraught with comedic errors.)  Still, I was only half joking, I really don't know why they offered me the job.  What did they see, that I don't? 

I can't help wondering if my answers to diversity rallied my cause.  You know those sayings that, "all roads lead to Rome,"  and, "God doesn't give you more than you can handle."  And now, in retrospect when I was asked in my interview, how it felt to stand in for the next grade up for two years, only to have the job not be advertised but for three people to be slotted into the job I was covering and for me to train them to do the job I'd been doing for two years, or for me to move to another department closer to home, then after six weeks to be told that the building is being closed in favour of an office that is further away than the one I was in six weeks ago? 

You know me, I'm such a hot head, but with a little time and the grace of reflection, I can give a considered and I suppose, an optimistic answer?

I don't mean to blow my own trumpet but from what I've heard, "the bar was set high."  Which only worries me more.  I hope to God that I'm up to the job and that I don't get, "found out."  My only consolation is that, a few years ago, when I acted up to this grade.  My boss, was a fair but no nonsense woman.  She was, is, quite a hard task master and I have no doubt in my mind, that if I wasn't doing a good job then, she would not have put up with me for long and I would have been replaced, quickly and clinically.

Knowing that my then boss had such high standards, makes me think that I was doing an OK job.  I think that's all I can take with me, unless I pluck up the courage to ask them why they offered me the job, but then, I'm not sure that I should show any doubt.  I should just, turn up, and look and act the part right? 

It's All New

My new-second-hand-car, was finally ready to be collected on Wednesday afternoon, there were a few problems with it and thank God for my brother-in-law who is able to fix.

I'm a nervous wreck driving around these days.  I've been driving my old, gorgeous, reliable, (until it died,) car for the past eleven years and now everything is different.  Everything is back to front.  Everything is also, suspiciously quiet, what's that all about?  I keep thinking it's going to die on me but no, it's just quiet.  I now have alien gadgets like, "central locking" and "A/C".  I even have,"electric windows".  I miss my winder handles, that's the only "A/C" I have ever known and let me tell you, it's worked perfectly fine so far.  It's all a bit mind blowing, not to mention that my wipers/indicators are now on the opposite side to my old car, so most times when I want to indicate, I turn on the wipers instead.

On Friday, I spent my last day at the Manchester office, in very good company, very funny company.  It's a very long time, since I laughed so much, I actually had jaw ache from all the laughing when I left work, it was a great day.

I journeyed home on the train with Lin.  We stood on the platform in Manchester in warm sunshine, being kissed by a light breeze, fifteen minutes down the track and we were beneath a canopy of dark grey cloud, being hammered by torrential rain.  Don't you love weather?  By the time we reached our stop, the rain has been and gone, but everything was saturated and some roads had a little flooding.

It was a good day despite the soggy ending, next Friday, is my last one in this job, then it's onto something new... again.

Ryan and Sandy to the Rescue

I admit it OK?  I am well and truly wallowing today.  I am car less.  I have walked to local, over priced shops for essentials like milk for days and pulled some kind of ligament in my ankles.  (It's shameful, it's only 20-30 minutes away, depending on how fast you can walk.)  My new-second-hand-car was to be ready today but there is a problem with the brakes and so it won't be ready... yet.  I walked to the shop miles away, only to find that they only had massive cartons of milk and they were too heavy for me to carry home, (I only wanted a 500ml carton as my fridge is so ridiculous, it repels fresh produce and turns it to poison... instantly.)  And every time I set foot out of the door to walk somewhere, it chucks it down.  Incidentally, I then walked to another "local" shop, but they don't stock skimmed.  Just remind me what year it is again???

All I have in the house is soup, either tinned, fresh or frozen... and coffee.  My bathroom light pulley, after months of either staying on for eons or staying off for eons, has totally given up, which means I shower in the dark these days and my new-used-car will cost me extra money to insure, which I don't have... before payday.  Did I mention that after a couple of years of getting my finances in order, I am now almost £3k more in debt?  And breathe.

So I'm using up a days leave today, Tuesday.  It's a day off from work, and I can't do anything and so after my hour long walking expedition for milk... despite the fact that I couldn't actually buy any milk.  I now have nothing to do.  I delve into my emails, reply to my cousin Jayne, I owe her one from the weekend, bring you up to speed and then I descend into a cure-all of Ryan and Sandy while I scrutinise my finances.

Ryan and Sandy are probably better known as Ryan Gosling and Ms Sandra Bullock and so I delve into "Murder by Numbers", (a Sandy and Ryan double whopper,) followed by "Fracture" for Mr Gosling and then, that old chestnut... "While You Were Sleeping," courtesy of Ms Bullock.  It's times like this that you need old friends around you, and in the absence of friends today... I have Hollywood megastars.  See?  Always a bright side.

The Breakdown

I know what you're thinking.  She's lived with the, not-knowing if she'd have a job or not for the past twelve months, will she be able to keep a roof over her head or will she be forced to move in with any sister that would have her?  That kind of pressure can tip a person over the edge.

Well, can I bank that breakdown?  Because I honestly think I deserve a mini meltdown after surviving that and making it to the other side and into a new and permanent job.  But I'm not actually talking about that type of breakdown today, I'm talking about flying down the motorway and losing power kind of breakdown. 

So I limp to my usual Saturday morning haunt on a wing and a prayer.  Text Jan; "U up? x"  I don't want to phone too early as not sure what time dear brother-in-law finished his AA shift yesterday... could have been early hours of this morning.  She doesn't text back straight away, it is of course Jan and so it could be days before she checks her phone, plus, I need to settle my stomach and find my legs again, they felt like jelly by the time I'd got to my destination.

Thirty minutes later, I have gathered myself, had a coffee, regained the use of my legs and I'm speaking to my brother-in-law.  "I think it's the spark plugs again, losing power, terrible noise, keep thinking I'll grind to a halt, I'll take the long, slow route home but head to yours."

One small bridge on the long route home or to Jan's, is closed and the new, temporary bridge will not let me turn right after I've travelled over it.  I follow the road to the left and quickly think, which is the shortest route from here?  I go right around the roundabout and do a left up a one way street, with speed bumps, up the hill, but it's all too much and my little silver car, which has brought me so far over the last eleven years... dies.

I have smoke and fumes emanating from under the bonnet.  Six inches in front of the car, is the final frontier, aka, the last speed bump... on this road at least, but it's just too much.  I can't even get it started and even if I could, I don't think I'd make it over the speed bump.  The end of this particular road and the top of this particular hill is about ten feet away.

I receive a text.  "Just checking you OK?  If you're struggling, STOP AND PHONE US."  I phone and proclaim, "it's just died."

I'm sitting, thankfully, tucked into the edge of the road and there is room for others to pass.   Despite sitting there, alone, with hazards on, with room... I get a few filthy looks as people have to drive around me and I'm desperate to challenge them, "if you can get it to start chick, then I'll move it." 

A white-van-man squeezes past and as he does, I mouth, "sorry!"  He smiles as he drives past and pulls in.  "Do you want me to guide you to the curb?"  He's sweet and I thank him for stopping but explain that I can't get it started and my brother -in-law is on his way.  Call me old fashioned but I love that chivalry is still on life support... just.

White-van-man leaves me to fend off drivers glares, alone.  Seems like forever but sister and brother-in-law arrive, just as the traffic policeman does.  Traffic police doesn't stop and I'm not sure if he's there because of me or if it's just a happy coincidence.  My brother-in-law is in the process of reversing, (rolling) back and tucking in by about a foot into the curb.  Traffic policeman drives by.

My brother-in-law lifts the bonnet and I scrutinise his face.  Jan drives me away leaving my dead car and brother-in-law, almost at the top of that hill.  I think I've just said goodbye to my independence. I can't afford a new car, a second hand car, I can't even afford repairs, even if it's repairable, which, judging by the smoke and the smell, I'm not sure that it is.

One step forward, six steps back.

Prisoners

Bee and I went to the cinema last night to watch "Prisoners".  We don't go that often and Bee always lets me take the lead and choose the film.  I'm usually drawn towards either a bankable name, a witty script or a kick arse trailer and it's almost always a rom-com.  Still, the lure of Hugh Jackman and Jake Gyllenhaal was too great to resist.  It wasn't pretty and it wasn't funny but it was, so good. This gritty drama just reeled me in.

Performances, from the entire cast, were sterling.  There were moments when my hand automatically came up to shield my eyes, there were edge of the seat moments and parts were you were gripped with fear that the unmentionable had happened.

I wasn't wearing a watch but I can tell you that almost two and a half hours, flew by.  I feel like this film will reside under the radar come awards season, but I hope not.

Sleep Much?

There is an article in this week's Grazia magazine which really caught my eye.  It's entitled; "What Kind of Insomniac Are You?"  After a couple of months of poor sleep, (I'm being polite,) followed by the past three weeks of chronic sleep, (yes, it was that dramatic.)  So, I read the article with interest.  There are apparently three types of insomniacs, the "late night insomniac" who goes to bed with their minds racing, unable to switch off.  There is the "3am Insomniac."  This is the person who wakes around 3am every night, like clockwork, stays awake for a few hours then manages to drop off, just in time for the alarm to ring.  Lastly, we have the, "early rising insomniac" who wakes around 5am, way before your alarm and that's it... you're done.

So the good news is that there are three possibilities with a list of how to overcome each one.  The bad news is, that I'm a combo... of all three... at once.

That was until three nights ago, when I slept, then I slept again then I slept for eight hours, like a really good baby, and I feel so much better.

I still look like I haven't slept for one hundred years but I feel better.  Maybe my skin and the bags under my eyes will catch up soon?

More Waiting

So I'm off today.  It's Friday morning and I happily arrive at my usual Starbucks haunt, blissfully unaware that the interview results are being emailed out, one by one.  I'll find out today whether or not, I got the job.

One coffee later and I'm filling my car with fuel when I get a text, from my friend and colleague who also interviewed for the job.  "Have you heard from Donny? xx"

Donny is the HR bod from the place we interviewed for.

"No, I'm out.  Have you? xx" 

"I didn't get it and neither did Nathan or Poppy xx"

I commiserate and vow...

"I'll check when I get home and text you xx"

After several more texts while I detour around the supermarket, I finally arrive home, log on, no email. 

My colleague got the same email to both her work and home address and so I expect the same and failing that, my "out of office" is on my work email so surely that would be a clue?  There is nothing to my home email and my colleague badgers me to email Donny, still, I don't want to do that, he may be in the process of emailing results out, one by one, for each of the twelve candidates.

The afternoon races on and I get a running commentary, via text from my friend of who hasn't got the job as the emails get delivered.  Surely my odds are rising?  I feel ill at the very thought.

By 4pm, I still haven't heard.  No email, no phone call and I can't stand it any longer.  I spend 20 minutes compiling a "casual" email to the HR man.  "Hi Donny, no need to respond but if you're sending out the results of my interview today, please send them to this address as I'm off work today.  Have a great weekend.  Kindest regards... J"

Twenty minutes later, I get an email from Donny.  "I've literally just left the office, can you call me on my work cell?"  He hasn't provided his number.

I reply; "Hi Donny, I can call you, what's your number?"

Another twenty minutes later and I have his number and I dial.  The first couple of minutes, after he's announced he's at the gym, seems like waffle to me, and then I hone in on... "so if you're still interested, we'd like to offer you the job."

I can't quite believe it, a permanent job off the back of a redundancy situation, plus promotion. 

I text my friend, "I got it." 

I feel bad that I did get it and that my friend didn't, but either way, I can't believe it.  I have no experience in this area and I have no idea what they saw in me and why the placed me above the other candidates.  I'm so grateful for the chance.  I'm just grateful.

Hair Drama, Bob Style

So, after a couple of months of a longish bob, I knew from pretty much hour one, that a bob was not for me.  The thing is... I love bobs, I always longed for a Lois Lane/Teri Hatcher, glossy, straight and swingy bob and wanted that desperately.  Well I can't ever have that, because my hair is like wire wool on a humid day. 

So, on my last hair cut, I compromised and went for the Olivia Palermo, slightly wavy bob with a few subtle and long layers and no... that didn't work either and so then I had to wait for it to grow a little, for me to get it layered.  Does that make sense? 

Anyway, I hastily booked in just after pay day for some semblance of normality to be restored.  Louise did a sterling job, told me off, (again,) for attacking my own fringe and then sent me on my way.

A few days later and I'm based in my "home" office for the day, after eleven months of wearing my hair up, most people walk past me, I get lots of compliments, and my male manager does a double take.  Does that mean it looks OK?

It's great, not 100% but I feel like me again.  I don't think I'll ever find the perfect cut but for now, I feel swingy and bouncy and messy.... and I feel at home.

Waiting

I don't know about you, but life is pretty mundane at the moment.  I've been living in a state of uncertainty, job, relationship, for a year now, so I'm thinking that finally, after this long, my brain has adapted and this is now the norm.

I had a job interview almost two weeks ago and I'm in a very zen state at present because while colleagues also interviewed are harassing me with "when will we know?" and "why haven't we heard?"  I am very calm.  So I told you about the lady who sits next to me in work, who turned to me as I was leaving the day before my interview and said; "whatever the outcome of this interview, it's meant to be."  I thought she was going to tell me a joke, but no, she bestowed wisdom and thought.  And think about it, I did.  I took her words with me to that interview and she was right.  Maybe that's why I'm so calm about the outcome.

So much is out of our control, I did prepare for the interview but it was wasted, the way I was fired questions meant me answering off the top of my head as if I was deflecting bullets from three Power Rangers.  For what that's worth, I truly believe that if I am meant to get the job, then I will.  I'll find out this week.

So, I'm changing the subject.  I'm longing to travel and I do count my plane journeys an hour away as travel but I long to spread my wings a little further.  I recently watched the brilliant Jane Campion's "Top of the Lake."  It's uncomfortable and intriguing to watch but it's set against the backdrop of NZ's South Island and it made me want to visit.  So on my next trip over to see you, I'm going to try to fit in a bit of the South Island too.

I've just watched Gino D'Campo's latest edition of his current TV show.  Gino is an Italian who we, us Brits, seem to have adopted, and really, it was a no brainer, he is talented, charming and adorable.  Can't remember if you witnessed the beginning of his first footing of being a TV chef over here but trust me, he's great to watch and inspirational in the kitchen.  I think I tend to gravitate towards the Mediterranean Diet anyway and so, Gino is a perfect tour guide on that particular journey. Today's edition included how to make frittata, Italian style.  I adore frittata but I've only ever encountered it in a Spanish version and thought it had to include potatoes, Gino's versions does not include potatoes so I am going to give it a whirl, seems like much healthier, less starchy version, I can't wait to give it a try.

Some time has passed and three attempts at the frittata later, and I think I've mastered it, by Thursday, it was perfection, it's like healthy, fast food.

The Interview

It's been quite a week.  Monday, I had to do the day job and get a job application form in. Tuesday I was doing the day job and prepping for an interview for a job I applied for a couple of weeks ago.  Wednesday, I had an interview.  B offered to drive me to the city, wait for me, then drive me home after the interview.  Still, I mostly know my limits and I knew that I wouldn't have the patience for company and or, someone else's driving, and so I drove myself.

I parked myself in a Starbucks across the road, prior to the interview and it was hustle and bustle personified at that time in the morning.  After just five minutes, I spotted an ex team mate from a year ago.  Her hair is much longer than when I last saw her but it was her and I stare until I catch her gaze.  My friend approaches and takes a pew.  She happily fills me in with updates of my old team, problems, prospects and general chat, which was just what I needed because it distracted me so much, I didn't have time to work myself up into a frenzy of nervousness.

With twenty minutes to go, I left Starbucks and crossed the road into the building I'll be interviewed in.  I made my way up the escalators to the coffee shop and parked myself in an unused booth of the cafe.  Five minutes after that, I make my way to reception to announce my arrival.

I think the interview went well but we shall see, it was a bit of a trial and some of my colleagues who also interviewed agreed that it was quite a challenging interview.  There are two positions and twelve candidates.  Before I left work on Tuesday, my colleague who sits at an adjacent desk, pointedly said to me,"however tomorrow turns out, it's meant to be."  It was just what I needed.  It really is in the hands of the Gods and I wait with bated breath.

The Wedding Singer

The Wedding Singer, the Adam Sandler/Drew Barrymore film was on again this week.  I always loved this film but it was only watching it this time around, that I realised that most of the '80's music which accompanies the film, is British.  I'm guessing AS must have been a fan.

Following the school reunion, I'm feeling pretty nostalgic, which has probably made me like the film even more than I did.  We had some pretty good toons going on and it could have been worse... could have been a lot worse.  Durran Durran, Spandau Ballet, Culture Club, Madness, ahhhh.

The film is littered with big hair, mullets and stone washed jeans.  I remember heading for a school D.I.S.C.O. in a white ra-ra, I thought I was the bees knees.  Seem to remember giving the stone washed jeans a wide berth though, never had the thighs for those, still don't.

The Reunion, The End

I turn to the man and my face must have been a picture.  He stood there stoically and I did all of the work, let out a gasp and then flung my arms around his neck.  I was genuinely happy to see him.

"Do you know who I am?" He quizzed me.  "Of course I do!"  I had a crush on this "boy" for the majority of our time together.  He leaned in and told me this sweet story, or at least I imagine it was a sweet story, something about pens, and how it had meant a lot to him, couldn't quite hear over the noise of the music.  I explained to him that I had a huge crush on him for the duration and then went on to ask about his kids and his wife.  It was lovely.

The night continued and more of my friends from the school days arrived.  We sat outside where it was a little cooler.  One of my crowd advised that she had left the town as soon as she could.  One reminisced about her 18th birthday party.  "Remember my 18th when..."  "No".  "Yes you do.......".  "Was I there?"  I'm still not convinced that I was actually there.

After a few rounds of; "are you married?" "So, no kids?"  (But not as many rounds as expected.)  I found myself catching up with, actually, one of the school bullies.  She never bullied me and I actually remember her apologising for swearing in front of me, I do remember her explaining to the group of us that she didn't know why, but that she did have to apologise if she swore in front of me.  I escaped for some reason but I do remember vividly that she bullied my friends.

Still, this person is also +20 years older and full of life experience and life has been tough.  In this person, I find an unexpected, kindred spirit.  This person quietly asks, "are you married?"  "No, I'm not."  "Me neither, I didn't want just anyone and the right person just never came along."  Could I have explained it any better than that?

I left the night early although it wasn't far off midnight, the party was still going on but not being used to nights out and socialising, I was content with the hours that I had clocked up, and my bed was calling me.

It took me about 40 minutes to leave by the time I had said goodbye to most people and of course, those that I was good friends with at school, the goodbyes more time.

One of my goodbyes with a good friend was extra long.  It was light and hearty and lovely and then, as she hugged me goodbye, she told me that she'd never forgotten how good I was to her at school.  I instantly knew what she was talking about, but I had forgotten all about it for, how ever many years.  This was the first time in my life that I felt like there was a reason for me to be here, on earth.  If I made a difference to one person, for a moment in her life, then it was worth being here for. 

The Reunion, Part Deux

I, and the women I'd found myself with at the bar, made our way to a table.  Thankfully, the others obviously had kept in touch so the chat was free-flowing and easy and I only had to interject once in a while.

The pub was like an inferno, I know it was August but it was seriously, furiously hot with no air con and no windows that opened.  I did offer to put a chair through one of the windows but opted to get one of the women a pint glass of iced water instead so that she could cool from the inside, out.

People started to arrive and we had a huge vantage point from where we sat.  "Is he one of ours?"  I had no clue.  Adult men continued to arrive, and I didn't recognise any of them.  Women started to arrive; "Who's that?"  Even with names, I struggled.  I know my memory is bad but it's clearly worse than I thought.

A man arrives and approaches our table.  "Is he one of ours?"  Turns out, he's the DJ.  Us "ladies", have to move as this is where he wants to set up.  We move to another table and make ourselves comfortable, it's hotter down here off the balcony, the other women grab beer mats and menus and begin to fan themselves.  I resit but boy is it hot and I can feel the sweat begin to tickle my top lip and trickle down my cleavage.  My new friends continue to waft themselves and even waft me at times, we must have looked like a group meeting of the menopausily challenged.

It wasn't the menopause that challenged me but my memory, and I wasn't the only one apparently.  "I know you but can't remember your name."  I give him my name.  "Do you know me?"  There is no polite way to say, "not a clue", so instead I opt for the diplomatic, "you look familiar but I can't quite..." He fills in the blanks for me but still... not a clue.

It was the most fun I've had for ages.  Even though I really didn't know most people, those that I spoke to, we had a connection, and they seemed like nice people, there was a comfortable familiarity that is difficult to describe.  There was a lot of laughter and a little dancing.

I headed to the bar to get a large glass of iced water for me, (I'm driving,) and a drink for one of my friends who is having a night out, away from real, serious life left that she has left at home for the night.

As the waitress brings me my iced water and the drink I've ordered for a lovely lady, a man arrives and stands next to me, facing me, very close to me.

The Reunion Part One

I left school, high school, many moons ago and I haven't seen most of my fellow pupils for over twenty-five years.  So, when I was recently invited to an unofficial reunion, I pondered.  Number one reason not to go, as you well know, is that I'm socially awkward.  If ever there was someone born to live in solitude and write all day long... it was me.  Secondly, we all have different lives now and we may be different people than we were so long ago. 

On the plus side, the curiosity is killing me, if I hate it after an hour, I can leave and if I go this time and hate it, I know not to even consider the next one.

I canvassed opinion.  My friend Soose advised that she attended one a few years ago, slightly different as she went with friends and not alone, you think there will be a lot of one-upmanship, but there isn't.  My friend Tracy advises to go for it, you'll be nervous until you get there, then you'll be fine.  If it's not great, you can make your excuses and leave.

After a month long, open invitation, it was on the morning of the event that I decided I should go, the event was being held at a local pub, the old stomping ground actually and the place of my first underage drink.

So, one nervous stomach for the whole of the day and I was running five minutes late, but finally, ready to face my past, face my school daze.  It felt like the dawning of a new term and I remembered how much I loathed the dawning of a new term. 

I didn't try too hard with the outfit and the look.  Make-up was my usual day slap and I chose a bright red loose top, (thought the red would give me confidence,) Gap cropped khaki's and  a mid heel peep toe that I've had for years.  Not sexy, not overly smart, mostly smart/cashz, can't go wrong with a bit of SC if you're not sure, plus I felt like I looked okay.

I arrived at the venue and powered on in, didn't hesitate once I got there, thought it best not to.  So in I walked alone, straight up to the bar and stood beside three or four other women.  The woman to my left turned; "Hi J, what are you drinking?"  Could I have had a smoother entrance?

Are there Any Single Men Left on Earth?

I keep dreaming about unavailable men.  What is going on?  All dreams are totally "U" rated I should add but still, got to admit that it is odd, is it not?

Friday night, I dreamt that a bloke I like, who is well and truly taken, returned from holiday to announce that he was no longer attached.  (I suspect a little wishful thinking in this instance.)  Another friend was in Saturday's dream, again, he is not even remotely single, and I don't even fancy this one, yet there he was... in my dream.

So what would a psychiatrist say?  I would run a mile if a bloke was actually single and interested?  Possibly.  I don't know for sure but sometimes, a girl needs some testosterone around, even if it's only in her dreams.  What can I say?

Before you suggest Internet dating as an antidote, I know lots of people hook up from online encounters, I know that there are wonderful people out there, someone close to me met their current and lovely other half, online.  But, for me, you and I both know that I would only attract the weirdos and the axe murderers.  You know that I'm right x

Scars

This evening, I watched an episode of "Sex and the City".  My imaginary friend... Carrie, is dating a guy with a Tweetie Pie, tattooed on his arm.  While they are sharing defining, identifiable marks, Carrie in turn, shares a scar on her knee.  It got me looking for my huge scar on my knee, that I created in childhood. 

Last time I looked, said scar was there, I looked to my right and then my left.  I can't remember when I stopped looking, but my scar is from when I was around, I don't actually know, little-ish.  Scar was created when, I ran to tell next-sister-up J, that dinner was ready, and I fell in the gravel. I was around 5-ish maybe?  Blood and bandages ensued, I remember being carried in, by Billy I think, (next door but one neighbour who had been chatting to J,) and being plonked on the dining room table to be attended to, but I was never taken to get stitches and so I had a huge scar on... my left knee. 

The scar has faded so much, I had to search for it.  Initially, I didn't even know which knee it was on. It made me think.  Something that was so painful and so uncomfortable, so prominent and obvious, can fade to nothing in time?  So much so, that you have to go looking for it.

A scar and a memory that I thought was once so indelible, had become, invisible to the naked eye.  It was a truly liberating moment.  I suddenly realised that, that which had scarred me in childhood, simply had no place in my life now, and I'm not talking about my knee.  That which I thought was going to scar me for life, has faded so much over time.  The scar on my knee represented other childhood scarring, and I realised that it too, had faded away, it's power, totally depleted.

Today, I feel strong.  Today I feel like a Goddess.  Right now, I think I could rule the World.

Sod's Law

Full week in work and for the first time since I got there in October, I was able to work overtime on Saturday.  It wasn't terrible, I was busy and the day passed pretty quickly and I was very productive, amazing what you can achieve when you're not being interrupted constantly. 

Early Saturday morning, I receive a text and "it" is thrown out there, it hangs in the air like sulphur.  Do I want to catch up later?  Hmm, do I?  I don't feel 100%, I won't have time to get all of the housework done and to get me, "date" ready. 

I get home at 2.45pm and set about throwing myself in the shower, ironing, tidying, cleaning.  I still have loads to do by 5pm when someone rings me.  Someone, who never rings me, chooses to ring me when for once, I have plans, and I'm pushed for time.  I'm still on the phone, when there is a knock at the door.  Are you kidding me?  "Surprise!"  It's my darling nephew.  I am of course delighted to see him, we haven't seen each other for about 4 weeks.  He is invited in and offered a cuppa, as long as he doesn't mind me continuing with the tidying around him, while he brings me up to date  with his travels and his new girlfriend.

By 7pm, I'm as ready as I'm going to be and I finally sit down with a small glass of wine while I wait for my date.  As soon as I take a sip, I realise I need to eat something.  So far, today I have eaten two Kit Kat's and a cracker.  What do I have in?  Nothing.

Summer Highs

You will be well aware that we are not accustomed to such sunny and hot weather, and we clearly, do not know how to dress for such, but even I have been shocked by the amount of under bum on display recently.  You know what I'm talking about.  Girls, even women, wearing too small shorts and allowing their under bums to escape captivity and make a break for it.  It's not a good look ladies.  If you must display it, do so only to your nearest and dearest, do not take it to the supermarket. 

Great Shoes

So I'm looking at this kid, sitting on, looks like a rock, white shirt, navy pinafore, navy, lacy tights, and shoes which I apparently chose myself, (yellow, brown and red, really?)  Legs perfectly poised in such a lady like fashion, hands clasped together, like a tiny soprano. 

I've just had the print converted to 6" x 4" and changed colour to black and white to add to a collection I'm putting together.

Sometimes, I lose track and then I happen upon something like this and regardless of how I feel about myself or my life or how things have turned out, I see a picture like this and think, you know... give the kid a break, look at that face, how can you be so hard on yourself?  And if all else fails... gotta love those shoes.

High Anxiety

This week was fraught to say the least.  We're in our second week of high temps and cloudless skies, second full week of not sleeping properly due to the heat and feeling like a wilted daff by the end of each working day.

On Tuesday, rumours started to circulate in work, one particular team had been told that they really must attend Thursday's site meeting for important news.  We discussed, at length, what it could possibly be.  Closure of the building is already planned, redundancy is already a given... what else could they possibly tell us? 

On Wednesday, our team were gathered together by the manager to advise that we too should attend Thursday's meeting.  An email popped into view to advise that a union meeting was arranged for Friday to answer any questions raised after Thursday. 

Thursday morning at 4.45am, I lay in bed thinking that I only had a little over five hours to wait.  My stomach churned and my heart raced.  By 10am, seated and waiting for the meeting to begin, I was ready to crumble.

After 36 hours of worry.  There was very little information given that we didn't already know.  I was in such a state, I convinced myself that I was missing some vital piece of information, something in between the lines that was hidden.  A friend clarified that I hadn't missed anything, maybe if I was older, my choices would be different, but for me, there is nothing new.  It was exhausting.  All of that worry... for nothing.

The King's Speech

I am extremely late to jump on this particular bandwagon but never-the-less, jump I did and I had to tell you about it... just in case you hadn't yet jumped either.  "The King's Speech".  I watched it last night for the first time and was totally blown away. 

Colin Firth, the gorgeous Colin Firth is beyond words, (pun intended).  Helena Bonham Carter, who I have loved since, "A Room With a View", is perfectly cast as Queen Elizabeth and having lived through the Queen Mother's latter years, HBC's character is how I imagine the Queen Mother in her youth. 

All of the cast were brilliant, Guy Pearce as King Edward, who gave up everything for the love of his life; Wallace Simpson, and of course, the delectable Jeffrey Rush as Lionel Logue, trust a bloody Aussie to save the day.

Exquisite. 

A SATC Moment

During a casual chat with a friend in work this week, I mentioned that I was supposed to be heading to my friends in the south of the country except that it's so far down that I fly and that my passport expired in May, so I'm not going anywhere.  "You can fly domestic using your works pass, a friend of mine did."  What?  Minutes later, I'm on a flight booking website, I phoned, Googled and sure enough, I can travel on my expired passport... as it's only just expired, (sounds ridiculous to me,) or my works pass. 

That night, I booked to fly down to Southampton to see my friends in just a few weeks time.  By next morning, I had a text from JR to say I was in the diary, she would be at the airport to pick me up and everything was arranged to meet up with our other friends down there, that includes precious and new baby Joshua, and his equally gorgeous, big brother Alex.

I never used to understand people who declared emphatically that they; "needed a break."  But now I do.  I need a change of scenery and I really need some company, at least, for a while.

Major news this week, I logged on to check my emails one day and there is an email from my friend M, who I used to work with, in response to my last email, and she begins; ".... yeah, Rome was great, glad you got postcard... queue at Vatican was ridiculous... D surprised me and proposed, no big deal..."  What???? I almost slid off the sofa and had to re-read, it was literally that scene in the SATC movie, (the good one,) where Charlotte shrieks at Carrie's news in the restaurant. 

My friend has already, happily passed the 20 year anniversary mark with her lovely partner and so you can understand my shock.  I couldn't be happier for them both, however... I'm still stunned.

I asked permission to send an engagement card, my friend is a no-fuss kind of gal, but she gave me the green light and so I found a suitably stylish card for my stylish friend and her lucky partner.  Isn't it great to hear good news once in a while?

Four Words

Andy Murray : Wimbledon Champion

Rebellion

My body has rebelled this week.  In no uncertain terms, it has thrown the wobbler of a two year old.  I have had two nights of the most horrendous night sweats, whilst being freezing cold and clutching on to a hot water bottle, like a woman clinging on to driftwood in the rapids.  Sore throat, glands up, earache.  When I do manage to sleep, the pain in my left hip and knee wake me and I won't even describe the back.  I feel one hundred and one years of age, and not in a good way.

Next week, I finish the meds I've been taking for my skin.  It's an extremely mild chemo, which can cause joint pain amongst other side effects and while my skin is the best it's ever been and I can't believe six months is up already, I'm wondering if my body is saying; "enough now."

Still, that doesn't explain the night sweats and the sore throat, so I think I have a combination of things going on, including for the first time in my life... hay fever. 

I have gone easy on the exercise this week, just a little gentle toning but even that sends my hip screaming.  I'm eating pretty well but for the weekend, I have stocked up on uber healthy ingredients to try to give myself a boost.  After my usual coffee here, in my usual haunt, I'll be heading for the health food shop on the corner to peruse the supplements.

I should have been seeing a friend tonight, but I've cancelled, or rather postponed until I feel better.  Hopefully won't be postponed for long.

Anyway, I have just rocked up to the counter to get a free refill of filter and the lady and her son in front of me are over from NZ.  So I of course start chatting to her and ask her where she's from.  Turns out she emigrated over to the South Island, from here, around the same time you headed for North.  While you have remained as if you'd never stepped on the plane, (accent wise,) this lady has a nice, hybrid, twang.  I explain that I initially thought she was a Kiwi, how you and hubby have remained accent unchanged, however the kids have adopted a new twang and how I struggled in particular with our gorgeous girl and how I needed an interpreter for a good two years but how it's all good now, and I can understand our conversations... unaided.

Today is supposed to be a scorcher, well, a scorcher by our standards anyway, 26 degrees and so, I'm heading home to do as much housework as the body/heat, will allow.  Later I'll watch a DVD then dose myself up and aim for a good nights sleep.

Books Galore

Monday to Friday positively flew by.  The end of June has been heralded by heavy rain.  We are actually past the mid-summer day mark and we're yet to have more than the odd day of sunshine or warm weather.  As I cast an eye out of the patio window, I see blanket grey/white cloud and wafting tree branches being shot at... by heavy rain.

So work was busy, and frustrating at times, but it was fine.  Friday I had my BP test, blood test and an ECG.  BP was fine, (now that I'm on meds,) just have to wait for the results of the others, I've been worried about the ECG for weeks but probably won't get the results for another few weeks and so the wait goes on.

Did I tell you that I'm totally taken with any "Hoarders" programmes?  Particularly love the American ones.  Not only does it make me feel better, but it inspires me, pushes me on if you will, (did I just say; "if you will"?)  Anyway, I feel like I'm taking de-cluttering to a higher level, an Olympic sport even.  Every time I watch an episode, I feel claustrophobic and so much better about my own mess.  This weekend, I have bagged up six carrier bags worth of books and magazines.  I love both, magazines and books, but my reading time is currently as I go to bed and you can guarantee, as soon as I climb into my nest, I just want to close my eyes and catch the sleeper to nod.

So books, my books, other peoples books which I have somehow become custodian of, books as far as the eye can see.  Two hours and six carrier bags later and that's how much extra space I have created.  Feels good.

June 22nd

This week, after recently, being lovingly yet undeniably reprimanded by certain people, via Ivy, I made a concerted effort on the healthy/clean living front.  I'm not saying that it was easy, but it was more a case of mind over matter.

Wednesday, I went with a few others to visit a potential employer, it was actually a different branch, of the place that I left in October.  The visit was very disappointing.  Very little information and little hope.

I did however get a couple of emails the following day, from friends Mr O and Mr P, asking why I hadn't stopped by to visit them... on my visit.  Truth was, we were herded around a different floor and with security, I couldn't have got to either of their floors anyway.  It was nice to be missed though.

Thursday, I had a wobble.  I'm surrounded by people doing so well, and then, there's me.  I know that sounds like I have a touch of the green eyed monsters, but I am extremely happy for them all and I would not wish for them, anything else.  I just feel useless and pointless at the moment, and a bit of a failure.  Plus, I'm hormonal, which probably isn't helping.

I'm no longer dizzy from the blood pressure meds.  I need to get an ECG and blood tests this week.  With the building closing, work will officially declare me,"at risk" on September 2nd.  I need to start applying for jobs immediately, need to continue keeping an eye on blood pressure but meds seem to be working... mostly.  Need to end relationship. Blah blah blah.

I volunteered for overtime on Sunday, there has been an overtime ban for months and I thought this would pay for my new passport.  By lunchtime I'd had a text to say that those in on Saturday had completed all the work so I wasn't needed on Sunday, no overtime = no passport.  Such is my luck. 

I keep getting knocked over and keep getting back up.  I'm starting to think that I should take the hint and just stay down.  What do you think?

Josh Groban

About 10 years ago, I "discovered" Josh Groban.  Not literally of course, I should add that I think it's David Foster who has those honours, still, I certainly happened upon the voice and that music around 10 years ago.  I had no idea that the voice was coming out of a 22 year old though.  I quickly shared my discovery with some of my sister's and my cousin, and that musical combination helped us through some tough times.

Mr G has performed in the UK on a number of occasions but it was always either in London or in small venues and getting tickets proved impossible. 

About 8 weeks ago, J text me in work; "Josh Groban in Manchester, in June, what do you think?"

"Tickets would probably be expensive and we wouldn't get any, anyway."

J: "That's what I thought you'd say, we're in AA12 & 13, June 17th!"

I couldn't believe it.

All the way to the venue, including stopping off en route for something to eat, every few sentences were punctuated with, "I can't believe we're going to see him."

J, who is something of an expert at getting great seats at this kind of thing, was a bit disappointed with the AA's, but we both agreed that we would stand in the car park to hear him sing and AA's were just fine.

The seats were actually great, we were in the stalls, I'd guess about half way back.  I think there was a 12 piece band, no opening act, at 8.30pm, Mr G appeared on stage, strode on, no fuss, no fireworks, straight into the first number.

I instantly had tears in my eyes, not only was this voice, one of the most beautiful I had ever heard, but it was powerful, sweet, expressive and actually sounded more amazing live than on any album.  It's the first time I've heard any artist sound better live.  I didn't know that was possible.

I thought we must be about an hour in but we were 90 minutes into the show and about to say goodnight and then have an encore with; "You Raise Me Up."

J and I sang all the way home.  Even today, still can't quite believe that we got to see him.  Incidentally, as well as appearing very down to earth, a bit of a goofball and a great drummer, he seems totally oblivious to just how amazing he is.

Ivy

I have to preface this by reminding you that I am not a total, physic junkie.  There are many charlatans out there but I have been lucky enough to happen upon two, in the world, that are the real deal.  Just so happens that my latest encounters with both, have occurred in a very short period of time.

Ivy is a very tall, very slim woman with long grey hair.  She's the kind that speaks to those that have left this world and are now, somewhere else.  I saw Ivy two or three times after my Mum passed away and it was like having a conversation with my Mum, for the entire session.  Ivy mentioned things that only Mum and I knew, and she was a great comfort.

Fast forward six or seven years and J and I were discussing Ivy recently and decided that we were well overdue for a reading.  J said she'd phone to make an appointment and in the past, we've always had to wait about six months and so J decided she would phone, just as soon as she remembered.

So a few days later, J is standing in line at the bank and as she faced the glass in front of her, she saw the image of Ivy reflected back at her, J turned around and Ivy promptly said "Hi!"  A bemused J responded with; "You won't believe this but I have a note in my kitchen to phone you."  "You should," replied Ivy.

And so today, J and I see Ivy.  I'm half looking forward to it and half dreading it.  If my Mum does come through, (incidentally, massive influx of white feathers recently, not to mention the dreams about her and my unplugged Sat Nav turning itself on in the middle of the night this week,) then I don't know if she'll be happy to chat or will happily tell me off.  It's been so long now, I'm not expecting my Mum to come through, but would be happy if she did, even if it was to scold me.

I spent an hour with Ivy.  My Mum was there from the get-go, as was my brother-in-law who, due to the 40+ year age difference, was the closest thing I had to a Dad growing up, plus, possibly my Dad, Jack, nothing was said to verify this completely, other than, "your Dad..." and I still have a healthy dose of scepticism within me, just to keep me grounded on this particular subject.  I've no doubt about my Mum and my brother-in-law though.  Comforting to know that they are watching, trying to pull strings and continue to care from where they are.

My Mother was extremely non-judgemental about some of my choices at present, particularly about my love life, which was a huge shocker, but did add that she would not be this way if she was still with me, which made me laugh, if she hadn't have said that, I would have doubted it was her, "if it makes you happy then go for it," was not my Mother's motto in life.

In short, my relationship, while it's a perfect match, for reasons out of our control, it will never go anywhere permanent.  We both had soft spots for each other as teenagers and had we got together then, we would have had a great life and had children together, but it wasn't to be.  I will find another job and I seriously need to take better care of myself.  There was no mistake that on this final fact, I was being seriously told off.  Weird that my Mother has been gone for almost 10 years and she can still put the fear of God in me.

It's what I needed actually, I've tried giving myself a good talking to, and it hasn't worked, after some blunt but caring words, I feel ready to make some changes. 

I'm sad about the relationship but I always knew it would have to end eventually and it won't be easy making the other changes we spoke about either.  Talking, mostly listening to Ivy was like sitting in front of a mirror and having my life and my faults and my mess, reflected back at me.  A warts-and-all documentary played back to me.  I feel like I've taken a look at my life through other people's eyes, they are people that love me but with love, comes truth.

Apparently, one of my main problems is that I don't talk to anyone about problems, well, such is life, if you're alone, then you're alone.

No happy endings here, just a lot of hard work, and changes to be made.  What do I know?  That even the most "black and white" people in the world, gain perspective and only emit love from over there, totally, non-judgemental love.

I cried myself to sleep last night but it was all just confirmation hitting home, confirmation of what I already knew.  I think I need to have some recuperation time, time to pick myself up, time to acknowledge that everything is not "fine" (my favourite and most utilised word,) then I need to move on.  So, pause, lick wounds, gain strength, go forward, with head held high.

1% Risk

So you know that I failed my last 24 hour blood pressure test, and I plea bargained with my parole officer, (doctor, she's very nice really,) to give me one last chance, in a few months time, when life would hopefully be less stressful?  That was January, so rewind to a few weeks ago in May and I rocked up to the surgery to give it a whirl one more time.  It was over a Friday/Saturday.  I took the day off work to be extra calm, (you're supposed to have a "normal" day but I didn't want to take the chance.)  I wasn't sure my plan had worked.  I didn't check every 30 minute reading, but the ones that I did check, were high.

I returned the monitor to the surgery on Monday and on Tuesday, the nurse phoned me at work with the results and to put me out of my misery, tests, of any kind, make me anxious.  Nurse reels off a string of numbers which I can't write down as I've left my desk to take the call on my mobile and forgot to bring a pen.  Long story short, BP was high in the day and normal while I slept, this is a major leap forward as last time, it was high, even while I slept.  So... averaged out, nurse thinks I may have just scraped through.  "If you don't hear anything from your GP, it's fine!"  What a relief.

Two days later, I received a letter from my General Practicioner, asking me to make an appointment to discuss recent investigation.  Two weeks after that, I'm seated in my doctor's office and she's smiling at me.  "So the appointment is about your blood pressure?"  We cut to the chase and she is not happy with the daytime readings and so I'm on meds, that's that, no discussion.  Doctor matter-of-factly tells me that I have a 1% risk of heart disease in the next 10 years. All I could think about was a skyscraper sized number "1" right in front of me. I got the feeling that this information was supposed to make me feel better, but it didn't, I need context.  For instance, do I have a 1% chance of becoming a nun?  Of marrying Ryan Gosling?  Of being struck by lightening at the exact moment I was being hit by a bus?  I even tried to do the math but mathematics was never my strong point, 1 in 100 people x 10 years...

I've been a little disappointed, worried and dizzy this week, (the dizziness is due to the meds until my body gets used to them.)  I had hoped to get this under control naturally but doctor advised that it could be genetic.  Jack, my Dad died, I think at 59 with a heart attack, so maybe it is genetic and it's not something that I have created.

Next on the agenda is an ECG in a few weeks, just to make sure that some of the chambers of my heart are not larger than they should be.  I'm having very weird dreams and when I go to bed, all I can hear is my heartbeat, and it doesn't sound normal, last night, it sounded too fast followed by long pauses.  This is probably all in my head, or at least, in my ear drums.

Millions of people around the world live happily and long, with high blood pressure, I just need a small amount of time to digest the fact that I have it too.

Where am I?

This week seemed long for some reason.  No particular reason, just another one of those "treading water, waiting for something to happen" weeks.  Main news this week, my options to move from the now condemned office, will not become reality until at least September.  September?  I'm ready to go now, right this second.  Still, nothing I can do about it. 

We have had sunshine for most of this week and, hold on to your hats... the windows in work have actually been cracked open.  I know, must actually be Summer after all.

I had physio on Thursday, I was so glad to see my physio.  It's been eight weeks since my last appointment and I felt like I had seized up, despite the dance cardio efforts.  Physio advises me that my muscles had gone into spasm but no permanent set back for leaving it for so long.  She loosened everything up and I felt better, instantly.

I went to see my friend Carol on Tuesday evening.  Aiming to leave at 6.30, I went to get ready at 6.15, already showered with head blasted dry, I just need to curl eyelashes, apply a lick of mascara and a swoosh of lip balm and I'll be off.  I have one eye clamped with the curlers when my phone rings, it takes me four rings to reach the phone.

"Where were you?"  It's J, she's on holiday down south somewhere.  I explained that I had one eye clamped in eyelash curlers which she thought was hysterical, doesn't everyone do this?  Am I not perfectly normal? 

After a brief chat, I'm heading for Carol's and 45 minutes later, I'm there.  I have a fabulous time, we have so much in common that I joke that we are Universal twins, except that C is three years younger.  The latest thing we have in common is that her sister is moving to Wanganui, now then, did we drive through there or was that Rotorua?

Anyway, I get home and of course, I'm wide awake after the drive, it's way past my usual bedtime but I had a really great time.  I paid for it the next day, but it was well worth the sleep deprivation.

Next evening, B phones, "I phoned last night, where were you?"  I've decided that I should either get out more often or stay in and just don't answer the phone.

Off with her Head

Quiet time at Starbucks, the usual coffee was followed by mucho scouting for numerous birthday presents, June is expensive.  My hip/back/whatever, and apparently now... knees, have been complaining for days and have kept me awake for most of Friday night and so I decided to boycott all forms of housework or gardening today and do nothing much except write and watch TV... all day.

I had the usual Saturday evening catch up phone call with my cousin L and then poured a glass of wine while I watched 'Gangster Squad' with the scrumptious Ryan Gosling.  Actually, it's chock full of great actors, strung together by a great story, I'll be watching this one, again and again.

With wine drunk and film watched, I took enough pain killers to make a baby rhino woozy, and retired to bed.  I slept like a log and woke at least, 50% pain free. 

So, I'm here, morning after, having my coffee.  The sun is shining, it's actually warm.  I cardio danced for 12 minutes without realising I'd tipped over the 10 minutes mark without realising, (normally, I'm clock watching from 8 minutes onwards.) 

The head is looking good, did I tell you that I had it chopped off?  Well, it was getting on my nerves.  Just too much hair and so on pay day, last Friday, I headed to Louise for a major overhaul.  It's a sort of scruffy bob and it just about stretches to almost my shoulders.  It's the shortest I've worn it for years and it feels great, liberating even. 

So, with the sun shining, and my new do, 12 mins of dance cardio under my belt and in much less pain than recently, I feel like I can conquer the world.

The future has been looking bleak and worrisome for the past 6 months, but now, things are a changing.

Small Stuff

After a week of not sleeping, or rather, a week of instead of falling straight to sleep as soon as head hits pillow, I lie there for two hours each night, having lengthy debates with myself about the state of my life, before eventually falling to sleep, two hours later.  By last night, I worked out that I was missing a solid 8 hours of sleep from just four nights.  I'm off work today, and so last night, I had half of a herbal sleeping tablet then I dissolved into my pillow, only to awake 9.5 hours later.

Today is the first day of the year that you can actually feel heat in the sunshine, yes, we actually have sunshine, although it is June tomorrow for heaven's sake, it really is about time.  Apparently, this has been the coldest Spring in 50 years.  I am so ready for June to arrive.

So you know how they tell you to "don't sweat the small stuff"?  Well, I try not to, to a degree, which, coming from a reformed "hot head," (I'm a fire sign, what can I say?)  It takes a considerable amount of spirituality and enforced calm, still,  after months of ironing my newest pillowcases, the ones were the makers apparently couldn't get the seams to line up which makes ironing them torturous.  Well, I couldn't face the fact that these infuriating imperfections, were the best that I had and so after weeks, months of torture, I headed out to a well known department store and purchased some not unreasonably priced, non-iron, white, Oxford pillow cases.

And so, I got home, I washed them and as I stood, ironing the non-iron pillowcases to get the creases out, they looked good, all seams where they should be, I feel calmer already.

Don't sweat the small stuff, but sometimes, it's just easier to buy new pillowcases x

Working Girl

No, not me but the film.  Now you may be a tad too young for this.  It came out in 1989, (I think,) and it was a massive hit.  I remember getting a bus to the city to see it, that's how long ago it was.  I haven't watched it in years but it was on TV recently and it was only then that I recalled what a gem it is.

It stars Melanie Griffith and the first thing that struck me was how much she looks like her Mother, Hitchcock muse Tippi Hedren.  Secondly, it's packed full of stars whether leading, supporting or bit parts, it's choc full.  Names include Sigourney Weaver, (I think she is actually billed at the top but the film rightly belongs to MG,) Harrison Ford, totally forgot he is the male lead, Philip Bosco, (Three Men and a Baby,) Oliver Platt, Joan Cusack, Alec Baldwin, Kevin Spacey, Ricki Lake.

There is one scene were I thought they were spoofing the '80's, then I remembered that it was the 80's, all big, backcombed hair, shoulder pads, as much multicoloured make-up as you could slap on your face and of course, the... going to work in your trainers and changing when you get there trend.

It's a story of good versus evil were you are of course rooting for the underdog.  I loved it all over again.  Check it out, I guarantee you'll enjoy it.  Interesting to note that Ms Griffith was billed third, the stand out star was billed third?  Shame on you 20th Century Fox.

Woman is a Genius

For years now, I've admired Tracy Anderson, you know the one, the fitness expert, the impossibly good looking, designer of bodies with all of those famous clients?  Well, yes, she looks amazing, as do her clients and I've eagerly read and listened to what she had to say over the last few years, her philosophy, her advice.  Was she another flash-in-the-pan with a plan that no matter how rigidly you followed, you wouldn't see any more results than if you did nothing? 

I bought a TA cardio DVD years ago but while I may have been able to follow along in a class, in my own home, alone and in front of the TV, it was a lost cause

Queue "You tube" and a clip of TA demonstrating some very basic cardio moves.  There are a few simple rules to TA cardio, dance like you're performing and not doing a walk through, dance like either you are on stage or alone with no-one watching, whichever works best for you, change moves every 4-8 beats so that you don't build up bulk and if you really can't follow TA, then "free style", which is what I do.  I use the term "free-style" very loosely as there currently really isn't any stylish about it, think Bambi, in clogs, on ice.  But... with just 10 minutes every night, for the past two weeks and I've already seen a difference, and so have my work pants.

Darn it but that woman knows what she is talking about.  I'm clumsy, can't make feet move fast enough at the moment, tripped over own feet a few times but I'm yet to hit the deck.  It's fun, it's done within minutes and you sweat.  I can only manage 10 minutes each night at present but I'm aiming for at least 20 minutes per night in the not too distant.

I almost gave up on the first attempt.  I was only aiming for 5 minutes but 5 minutes of leaping about, in front of a mirror, in your underwear and trainers, almost put me off looking into a mirror, ever again.  Still, a couple of weeks in, and there is much less wiggle in the jiggle and pockets of fat which have simply camped out on my body for centuries, well... decades anyway, they have begun, to melt.  I hate to say it, but TA... she is a genius.  Dance if you dare.

The Time Travelers Wife

Have you seen it?  I  watched "The Time Travellers Wife" again today, Eric Bana and Rachel McAdams, are both, brilliant.  I've watched this film before but I forgot how wonderful it is.  The performances are so subtle and real, it makes a seemingly preposterous subject, 100% believable.

Watching the film again, got me thinking.  If I could time travel anywhere, within my life span, just like Eric's character, where would I go to?

Can I cheat?  I'm going to bend the rules, as they are my rules after all.  I won't interfere, I'll just drop in and observe, I promise.

The first thing I would do?  I would strike up a conversation with my Nanna and Grandad.  I arrived long after they departed and so there is no way I'd be able to introduce myself, plus, it's against my rules, but I could be just anyone right?  And start up a conversation? 

You know those photo booth photographs?  They come in fours?  I have one set, actually, I have 3/4 of a set, of me.  I'm guessing that I'm about six years old.  I can't help but like this kid.  She looks awkward and shy and like she is about to be interrogated, then like someone is urging her to smile, then she just, smiles.  I so wish that I could take that kid under my wing and protect her from some of the things that are going to happen.

I think I'd visit myself every now and then, a bit like a Fairy Godmother, to impart crucial pep talks at strategic moments, aged 10, body starts to develop, unknown age, teeth start having a plan of their own, teenage years... hot head, aged 20, too old to call that "puppy fat".

I'd like to listen in to my Mum hearing the news that she was expecting me (and not in the grips of the menopause,) and then sharing that news with the family, the news, did not go down well.

I would try to get back to 25th October 2003.  I would get up early and I would not go out that morning.

This is why I love the magic of film and story telling, it ignites the imagination, keeps those brain cells sparking and gives you a great big illuminated sign spelling out; "what if?"

Bernard

You remember me rambling on about Bernard right?  The psychic that I saw before?  I've seen him twice before in about, 2.5 years and he knows me like no other person I'd never met.  He knows me in a way, I'd rather he didn't know me.  Anything I'd rather keep hidden from the world, appears to be signposted, to Bernard. 

B.  You think you're easy to live with... you're not.
B.  You are borderline OCD.
B.  Do you buy fruit?  Well, yeah you do but you throw it away when it goes off... un-eaten.
B.  You've been here before, (he's looking at the palms of my hands,) about 300 years ago, he turns my hands over... make that 400 years.

These are just a few Bernardisms.  Basically, Bernard is straight talking and frankly, not a flatterer.

This reading, it's over the phone but is just as accurate.  I have so wanted to talk to Bernard for around 18 months.  You want the highlights, don't you?  And you do know this is for entertainment purposes only?  So many charlatans out there, but B is not one of them.

B.  Someone isn't communicating but they're just not telling you something that you don't want to know.  I should ask to meet with him on neutral territory.  He'll say 'no' then he'll agree.  You should tell him how you feel.  If he doesn't feel the same, you should say goodbye, forever.

Good advice, straight as always, and to the point.

B.  There is another man around you, who likes you. 

J.  I think I know who you mean, we get on like a house on fire, but he's taken, and he is way too young for me.

B.  What state is his relationship in?  And the age thing, he doesn't see that, you look at least ten years younger.

B goes on to mention three locations connected with this other man in relation to me and my future.  Personally, I think that B is just super connected to anything that is going on around a person, around me.  I do get on with this other person, really well, but there is no way that anything would happen between us.  Weird that B picked up several locations though.

B's final relationship advice... keep your options open, for now.

J.  Don't I get a happy ever after?

B. No.

J.  I mean, just a less complicated life?

B.  No.  Your life is complicated.

Good to know I guess, at least I can stop kidding myself in that department.  See what I mean about him being straight talking?

On the work front, B reckons I should go to Manchester but conceded that I would make up my own mind, regardless of any influences.

I don't know how much of this part was B's personal opinion or looking into my future but he thinks I should move to Manchester with work.  My heart will always be in Liverpool and given a choice between these two great cities, I'll always choose Liverpool, it's just in me.

B thinks that I get on better than men than women, 'not that I look like one,' B's words, not mine, however friend Sheila thinks that I'm even stevens on that front.

So it seems that I'm not set for anything life changing in the immediate future.  B shared some personal things with me, from his own life and I so wish I could chat with him, as a friend and nothing more, and I could be delusional but I feel instantly connected to B, always have done.

Funny how life brings you the people you're supposed to have in your life.

So, we'll have to wait and see.  Over many years, many readings, including this one, the general consensus is that I'll end up living abroad, I can only imagine, that it will be closer to you. 

D-Clutter

The week in work wasn't too bad, had some challenges and physically,  I've been really tired all week, so I decided to take Friday off, and I was so glad that I did.  I'm feeling a bit more normal today, a bit more like myself.

It's Friday and I know that I've said it before, but I'm going to say it again, I feel like an enforced climax is on it's way.  I know that an enforced change with regards to where I work and how I'll be earning a living for the next year is imminent, but there is something else.  I feel like I need a clean sweep, a new beginning.  I am probably all froth and folly, and this feeling will no doubt pass.

So, what I'm about to tell you, may shock you, on Saturday, I actually did blitz the back bedroom.  Each time I entered the room, I thought to myself, "it's not as bad as you thought," then I laughed because don't get me wrong, it really is bad, but it really wasn't as bad as I thought.  It just needs organisation and a strong arm to sort it out.

After a very short period of time, I have an actual pathway through the room to the built in wardrobe, there are about a dozen bags in the dining room full of magazines, a car boot assortment, recycling, books, DVDs, materials, clothing, bric-a-brac, all ready and willing to go off to good causes and pastures new.  I feel so much better.

Decision Day

The morning of the 24th loomed like a giant storm cloud.  For five months, we'd waited for the decision over our future at work, would the building close and the work be moved elsewhere?  Would we still have a job?  I've worried for months but the last few weeks have been pretty bad, well, I can only speak for myself but the last few weeks, for me, the worry has intensified.  For months, I've listened to harbingers of doom within the office, every morning, for up to an hour each morning, gloom and negativity spewed from their mouths, worst case scenario ruled and I didn't realise until this minute, not only how draining it was, but how much effort it took to deflect and neutralise all of that negative air pollution.  While I was trying to stay positive and hopeful to the day of decison, they slowly sucking the hope out of me.

My work buddy and I sneaked in to the announcement meeting and deliberately sat at the back of the room, like two naughty children, within a few paces of the exit in case we needed a quick...  The meeting began five minutes early, everyone was congregated and seated by 10.55 and a hush had fallen over the room and so the bearer of news decided to begin early.  In less than ten minutes, he began to get heckled, any information he wanted to disseminate would be interrupted and diluted and so my buddy made a break for the exit and I followed, it was clear that from then on, the man would not be allowed to deliver the information without constant interruption.

The news was not good, the office was being closed and sold.  I was ambivalent in a way, so the news is bad... it's kind of what we all exptected, what next?  I just wanted to hear the following information, however the man was being constantly interrupted.

My bud and I returned to his desk and we read through the information, uninterrupted, that had been delivered as we left for the meeting, via email.

So far, I have a couple of options to mull over, neither are attractive, I just need to opt for the most attractive of the two, and hope that my decision making does not suck as much as it did when I choose to leave a safe job, for this one.

I ♥ New Zealand

All of my life, I have known that New Zealand is a special and magical place, long before Peter Jackson cottoned on to the fact.  My Mum's one, true love, was a New Zealander and they met when he was in the NZ Navy, and stationed at the port of Liverpool.  Ashely was the love of my Mum's life and after marrying, having two daughters and sailing to NZ, my Mum spent a couple of years in that magical land. 

Mum docked in NZ, via a very long sea voyage with two babies, lived for a while on a sheep station with her new family, then moved on to Seafront Road, Castlecliff, Wanganui, before homesickness brought her back to Liverpool were two more daughters followed.  Death stole Ashley at the age of 35 and left Mum with 4 daughters, an iron will, a tough exterior, and numerous sister's-in-law, cousins, nephews, nieces, and all of them, friends and family, for a lifetime, regardless of distance.

Present day and my best friend has relocated to New Zealand.  Coincidence?  No such thing as coincidence.  I love how life twists and turns, the good, the bad, the heart breaking.  It's all part of the journey and while it can bring tears to your eyes all too frequently,  that's the ride. 

I have NZ cousin's, who aren't actually my cousin's, (but no-one mentions that.)  When I joke to a sister that I'm the odd one out, they don't get the joke, I mean that I have a different Father, they just don't see it.  I am the black sheep in the family except the family seems to be colour blind.

NZ will forever, have a very special place in my heart, whether it's because that's where the love of my Mum's life hailed from, or because it houses my quasi cousins or because it's your home of choice, the home of my best friend.  How could I not love NZ?

Weighted Down

I wrote this mid week.  I feel like I'm about to fold under the weight of everything that has been building for the past 6 months.  Imagine a Disney scene, Cinders is perched on a tiny stool while she hastily tries to sew together an over stuffed duvet, the seams are gaping with stuffing trying to escape and only being tempered by inadequate and straining thread.

Last August, I applied for a job, to make my life better, easier, or both.  I got it, transferred and within 6 weeks of me starting, the rug was pulled.  The seed was planted that within a matter of months, I may have not have a job.  That was November 13th and the uncertainty has nested within me, since then.

I've been on new and, "last resort" medication for my skin since March 8th.  It's an extremely mild chemotherapy.  I absolutely must not get pregnant.  I can't be in direct sunlight.  My skin is dry to the point that my hands, fingers, are beginning to crack and bleed, I've developed eczema, my face looks swollen like I've caught too much sun and there isn't enough lip balm in the world to stop this sensation of tightness, lips are pink, puckered and uncomfortable.  My hair is falling out, I have pain in my legs even when I'm in bed. 

I'm without my Mum for almost ten years.

I have permanent hormonal cramps and pains, (nothing to do with the skin meds.)

I realise all of the above is nothing compared to what some people have to live and deal with on a daily basis, (even members of my family,) and I have felt worse than this, ten years ago, even eight years ago.  Add the usual money worries and lack of hope of anything getting any better, ever, and I'm starting to feel down.  Another of the side effects of the skin meds is depression and suicidal thoughts. 

I am strongly aware that the reason I feel so low at the moment, may be due to the skin meds.  Other meds I'm taking to regulate... stuff, also causes mood swings and depression,  however, despite the double whammy of added potential, I'm also aware that I was on the brink of this already, without the meds.  It just feels like too much.

In two weeks time, I will know the answer to at least one uncertainty.  If I can deal with the pressure for at least two more weeks, I think I'll find some hope.  A plan.  I love a good plan.

They say that God only gives you what you can cope with.  Do you believe in God?  I do.  He should know that I'm pretty much at my limit just now.

Astro Twins on Fire

 

You know that I do love to read my horoscope, whether it's compiled by Russell Grant, Jonathan Cainer, Sally Brompton, or, in this case, the Astro Twins, who I check in with on a daily basis at Elle.com.  I read the Astro Twins run down of the month of April, for me, a Leo, and I was so blown away with the accuracy, I had to point out a few things for you.  Hocus pocus? Or is there really something to astrology?

Leo: July 23 - August 22

April 2013

 

MONTHLY OVERVIEW:
A hopeful Leo is a happy Leo, so this month you should be downright ecstatic, (okay, not this bit,) as several planets traverse Aries, your freewheeling, optimistic ninth house. (Not the rest of this paragraph either.)

If you can’t seem to get onto a “world is my oyster” kick, be proactive. Sign up for a thought-provoking class or convince a friend to join you on a yoga retreat. A perfect day for taking a mind-blowing leap is on the April 10 Aries new moon, when five planets will be in this wanderlust-stoking part of your chart. Fresh perspectives (not to mention adventurous, culinary excursions) await, so don’t bother debating the “shoulds” versus the “should nots.” Just go for it.  (The world is definitely not my lobster just now,  but I do have a bad case of wanderlust, mainly for your direction.)

Living large will help counterbalance the heaviness that sinks in on April 12, (this week had me feeling the lowest I've felt, in a very long time,) when plumb-the-depths Pluto turns retrograde (backward) in Capricorn, your sixth house of health and service, until September 19. During this five-month period, you may need to address a lurking-below-the-surface matter that has been affecting your physical, mental or emotional health (or, if the stressor is “big” enough…all of the above).   (Yes, I'm having some problems and the weight of the physical ones is wearing me down, maybe I need to investigate further.)

Pluck stressful influences from your daily environment and strip away everything that causes you unnecessary angst. Yes, this could mean hiding those annoying Facebook status updates from someone you were never friendly with in the first place. These seemingly minor toxic effects can take a cumulative toll, so don’t sweep things under the proverbial rug. (Long before I read this scope, I'd been thinking of leaving FB for some time, the constant and volumious update emails are intrusive, I'm a private person and I don't want to be bombarded with every detail of the lives of people I barely know, or knew 20+ years ago, although sad at the prospect of losing the ability to see updates on my cousins babies, the intrusion was too much.  As I tried to leave FB, I got a, "why are you leaving?" then a, "did you know you can...." and so I changed... something and now everytime I check my emails, I'm not bombarded by this massive intrusion, it's a huge relief and it sounds silly but I didn't realise what a stressor it was.  I now, don't dread logging on to check my emails.)

A pregnancy is also possible, perhaps even one you didn’t plan for—or you could hear news of one out of the blue. (Let's hope it's news out of the blue... and not me.)

What seems like a sweeping development at month’s end has actually been building momentum since the November 13, (November 13 was when we heard the announcement in work that the building would probably be closed and the work would be moved to another location.)

LOVE & ROMANCE:

Your laissez-faire ways could wane after April 15, when love planet Venus enters steady Taurus, your tenth house of long-term planning. Sure, seizing the day (and dancing on tables past sunrise) might be de rigeur for your fun-loving sign, but that doesn’t mean you don’t care about your future. Loyal Leos want to grow old AND stay young together—and if that’s too tall an order for your current beau, you might need to show ‘em the door. (Astro Twins have a point.)

MONEY & CAREER:

Show me the money, Leo! Your sign has a strong career emphasis all month, but for the first three weeks, a swell of planets cluster in fiery Aries, your risk-taking, enterprising ninth house. You’re dreaming big—like, private jet big. You’re jazzed by grand ideas, sweeping visions and even an entrepreneurial venture. (Isn't that normal... for every month?)  Freedom is your siren song, so you’re eager to follow the golden thread of whatever project or endeavour feels like your true calling now. (Writing.) The April 10 Aries new moon helps to shatter any self-imposed ceilings you might have, too. On this day, a stunning five planets are in this part of your chart, delivering opportunity and inspiration in droves. (We'll see.)

With so many planets in this ready-to-leap part of your chart, no adventure seems too lofty. If even a millimetre of self-doubt creeps in, return to the famous words of fellow Leo Henry Ford: “Whether you think you can or you can’t, you’re right.” (I love that quotation.)

Stay tuned: on May 9, a Taurus solar eclipse set you down a whole new career path. (I know this hasn't happened yet but it was too exciting to leave out.)

In fact, you could already feel some hints of the goose bump-inducing news that’s on its way to your door. The April 25 lunar eclipse in Scorpio, your domestic fourth house, could bring an unexpected offer to relocate for work, (I'm waiting to hear of an offer right now,) via an offer for either you or a family member. Perhaps you didn’t see this one coming, but in reality, this situation has been brewing since the November 13, 2012 Scorpio solar (new moon) eclipse, (remember November 13th? announcement day.) The April 25 eclipse is an important finale to the six-month cycle that started in the fall. (Six month cycle.  The day of the announcement was the day that kicked off 6 months of worry and uncertainty, thank God it's almost over.)

Of course, with introspective Pluto holding up a magnifying mirror to your stubborn ways, you won’t want to shoot the messenger. While you may be seething with (frankly, unhealthy) resentment, retrace your steps. Has “I’ll just do it” or “It’s fine, I’ll take care of it” become a self-destructive refrain for you? (Is my work place bugged?)Your capable ways can be either an asset or a detriment, and subconscious Pluto retrograde makes it very clear where you stand on the spectrum. You can’t spend another frustrated evening at the office (or at home, where you insist on handling everything, much to your spouse’s chagrin). So now is the time to be firm and assertive about your needs—before you either burn out or bail out! (Point taken, I've had a tension headache induced by work for 3 days now.)


HEALTH: MIND, BODY & SOUL:

Feeling sluggish? Now is not the time to chalk up those “off” afternoons to a passing mood or too many Swedish fish. With regenerative Pluto moving retrograde (backward) in Capricorn, your sixth house of health and service, you may need to dig a little deeper, dealing with a matter that doesn’t have a ready diagnosis. (I am having a few problems.) Another issue could be lurking below the surface and wreaking havoc on your physical, mental and emotional health. Since karmic Pluto’s presence can bring up intense clues in your dreams, don’t ignore hints or messages in your nocturnal wanderings, whether they deal directly with a physical or emotional issue. Pluto also rules hidden information, so if you have a nagging feeling that something is not right, demand a second opinion or seek out a new doctor, until you feel entirely reassured. (Okay well, I was talking to Robbie Williams back stage and he was my nephew, what does that dream scenario mean?)

One Leo we know has a history of colon cancer in her family, and when her GI was dismissive of her abnormal colonoscopy, she asked him how he might feel if he saw her name in the obituaries next year (talk about drama-loving Leo meeting macabre Pluto!). Happy ending alert: she found someone she was more comfortable with, who helped her address the underlying issue and now has a clean bill of health. (I'll be pushy, I promise.)

On a happier note, since the fourth house rules motherhood, a pregnancy or news of one is definitely possible.  (Stop with the pregnancy news!)

A word of caution: things could take on an unexpected, topsy-turvy momentum, since eclipses tend to bring unplanned events. Look back to mid-November, when the Scorpio new moon solar eclipse sparked the situation that is reaching a potent culmination now. (Official decision to be announced about the building closure and my job in two weeks time.) Perhaps you’re an apartment dweller who learns that your landlord is selling the building (selling the building!) and you’ll need to move out of your cherished abode, (leave my place of work,) the one in which you fell in love, had a baby or just spent some serious quality time developing your rose garden. While this news might feel like an unspeakable blow, (it was,) you may soon see the silver lining. Perhaps an even better place becomes available, or you realise that this is the perfect time to explore home ownership…or to make a big leap and relocate to another city altogether.

 

So is it just me or was that prediction, unbelievably accurate?  So, it leaves me, us, waiting for the silver lining.  Will I have a job by the end of the month?  Where will I be based?  Will I be pregnant.... lets not even go there.  I don't know if astrology is a science, an art form, mathematics?  I don't care, it's interesting and fascinating, and it's hopeful.  It's a little weird thinking that our lives are partially influenced by eclipses and planetary positions, but it's also comforting to know that there may be reasons for some of the things that happen in life.  I believe in free will, I believe in God, I believe that things happen for a reason and if planetary positions shake all of that up, so be it.

 

Extractions from April's prediction as detailed above was taken from Elle.com courtesy of the incredible Astro-Twins.