Happy Birthday to me!

I turned 34 on Sunday. Happy Birthday to me.

Only it wasn’t.

I did have a nice day, doing things I love, but I returned home alone and found myself considerably upset at the thought of going to bed in an empty house on my birthday. So much so that there was a moment I considered packing my bag and going to stay at my Mum’s, knowing she was also home alone. But I knew that would result in tearful conversations, and the possible beginnings of a habit. I’m officially a grown up, I need to be able to spend a tearful lonely night alone and be okay with it.

The reason I’m home alone on a Sunday night is because my partner in crime has started a new job. An opportunity he couldn’t pass up that just happens to be in another city. As neither of us currently drive and the public transport that’s available doesn’t get him there in time for work, he is living there during the week and coming home at weekends. Now I know we are not the first couple to ever be in this situation, and undoubtedly we will be far from the last, but this is tougher than I imagined it to be.

I encouraged him to take the job. It really was the best move for him. But I’m beginning to realise it was not the best move for me. Turns out I kinda like having him around. But there are benefits to being home alone.

I can listen to my music loudly and not be concerned about his distaste for my love of country. Or the fact that I am like a small child and love to hear the same song or album ten times daily. (I have had the Waitress Original Cast Recording Soundtrack on repeat for about three months now. LOVE Sara Bareilles.) And he finds the repetition just a tad tedious.

I can have Coco Pops for dinner. I mean, not everyday, but certainly once in a while and there is no one there to judge. Not that he would judge, he’d probably join in and have a bowl too, but if he’s home I will make an effort to cook something nice that we will both enjoy, putting time and effort into a semi-balanced meal. But without someone else to cook for I can eat whatever I want. Be that toast, an ice-cream or a bowl of coco pops. Or all three.

The T.V is mine and mine alone! No one else’s tastes to consider when I’m looking for a movie or a new series to binge. I don’t have to dismiss something if its too girlie or there’s too much singing in it, and I don’t have to spend an age figuring out what to watch of an evening. Only I still do. Turns out I’m indecisive enough on my own without having to consider someone else’s opinions and tastes. Even without having to find something we’re both in the mood for it still takes several false starts before I find something I actually want to watch. (I’d recommend Set It Up. Watched it on my own while drinking tea and eating cake, thoroughly enjoyable night. Silly sweet predictable rom-com. You know the type.)

On the flip side, there is no one there to converse with, no one to act silly with. No one to share a bar of chocolate with – I eat his share now as well as my own. I look after myself better when I have someone else to care for. I eat healthier when he’s around because I want him to eat well. I go to bed earlier because I know he needs his sleep as he has an early start and gets groggy without his full seven hours. I put my book down and turn the light off, encouraging him to do the same so that we actually go to sleep. And it goes both ways, he had an earlier start so I would get up when he got out of the shower, and I would always leave the house by 7:30, be in work for 8:15. On evenings that I didn’t get home until late he’d have dinner sorted, or at least planned. Now I’m by myself I believe I know my limits and how far I can push myself, but since he moved I have been uncharacteristically late to work at least once a week because I tell myself ‘just one more chapter’ the night before. And I’ve already mentioned how fantastic my dinner skills are.

I keep telling myself this is temporary. We’re going to be in the same city soon enough. I have high hopes that I will be offered a job in the same city as him within 6 months, but until then I have to endure living alone temporarily. He’s just glad he doesn’t have to endure Jane The Virgin any more.

 

Look, I've been writing.

Dumbing Down

Sixty years ago it wasn't uncommon for some people to be unable to spell correctly, mostly due to a lack of education or the family's need for more regular incomes. You would like to think that we as a society have gone beyond that. It is not illegal to refuse anyone their right to an education but unfortunately our modern ways mean that people are still – or should that be again – losing a fighting battle with the English language.

Commonly regarded as the most complex language to master for those coming to it later in life, I believe it should be given the respect it deserves by those who call it mother tongue. But modern technology is gradually degrading it. With the invention of text messages and instant messaging services our communication age rounded a corner – leaving half of the alphabet behind. Words have been shortened, others replaced by symbols or numbers and even vowels removed – all in an attempt to save space and time. Even sites such as Twitter constrict the amount you can write in one go, at 140 characters a turn.

Why are we all in such a hurry?

The written word is a wonderful part of our lives. Think to those well thumbed books on your shelf; letters from an old friend; an invitation to a weddings; cards on your birthday. Without these things our lives would ultimately be wildly different and without the written word none of these would be possible. One could argue that there have been entire societies and tribes who used merely pictures and images to convey messages, but none of those people have ever felt the joy of following “Once upon a time...” to its conclusion, or reading a love letter dedicated solely to them.

Dreams part deux

So last night it seems my unconscious mind was in over drive. I had several peculiar dreams, but the one that I can remember all day is the one where I had a daughter and was hiding her from the world. No one knew about her expect my best friend Ben {possibly the father, it wasn't clear in the dream.} He was hiding away with her {Penny or Poppy or Polly} in a holiday home and I would go visit them as often as I could. She was adorable, beautiful black hair and wearing a beautiful dress. But I was supposed to be working, cutting the grass I think, and I left to try go see them, but my boss caught me, so everyone found out I had a little girl. I don't know how I managed to hide the fact I was pregnant and then that I had a daughter but I did.

Anyway, aside from that, I haven't got alot to report. Not much going on. I turn 24 in two days, which is a little strange, but at the same time not that big a deal. Mam and Dad were asking what I want to do for it, but I don't really, its just another day. Next year is a big one though! Weird though, I don't feel this old.

On the job front - nothing! Nada, zip, zilch!! Just gotta keep trying I guess! Wish me luck!

Happy New Year!!!!

I thought I'd best write a new year's message before it gets too late into the month and becomes a bit redundant! I've been back in Hull for two weeks now, and the work is going slow and....well, slow! But getting there. I cannot wait until these three essays have been handed in. I am going to relax and read gothic novels to my heart's content, followed by Wilde. I treated myself the other day to a copy of The Picture Of Dorian Gray. It's one I've never read and would love to. So why not she says.

I finished the book version of Stardust over the weekend, and it was really really enjoyable. Different to the film, but very well written and with the same storyline. Though Robert Di Niro's character is nowhere to be found in the book, which is a shame. I was waiting for him the entire time. Oh well.

I've spent the last two nights in the Van Steen residence in Hickleton, just outside Doncaster. It was Alex's 21st and to celebrate a few of his university friends went along for an amazing dinner. I don't think I have ever sat at a dinner table for four hours and been eating for most of the time. It was a mixture of Polish {in recognition of his roots - his grandfather is polish}, Chinese and Indian dishes, all cooked by his aunt and mother on the day.