A Question

The bizarre, the awkward and the downright different charm me.

 

They lack convention and I find this truly refreshing.

 

There is nothing wrong with convention. It is convenient, clean and possibly even elegant in its understatement and ease of understanding of what is “acceptable”.

 

However, to me it lacks the depth of character that truly bucking the trend requires and depth of character is interesting.

 

I would say this, for this is me of the yellow trousers in the past talking. The me who has stood at the fringes for a lifetime and felt truly “otherwise” to society. Where “the” way seemed truly incongruent and illogical to me so when I find somewhere that seems to hum with resonance, I fall in love.

 

So the coffee shop that has the grumpy waitress and the appalling service but also has comfy sofas and an old school feel to it – that is a special place.

The poem that so obviously has no meaning to anyone but the writer has a beauty of its own.

The mishmash jangle of colour in a loud print or garish painting.

The tiny cinema that seems stuck in time.

 

The hint of contrariness, and the stubborn refusal to be assimilated into the norm, the tiny hint of difference and I stand there, drawn in and itching to give into it.

 

But I do stand on the edges – I am one thing and the other. Assuming convention and craving the opposite. Afraid that to openly swim against the current will drown me in opinion and yet finding myself unconsciously paddling desperately that way anyway.

 

I want to wear the yellow trousers and like myself when I am.

I want to wear the yellow trousers and still be accepted by convention.

To walk the middle way.

“Who am I to wish for this integration?” I hear myself ask as I write.

 

“Who am I?” – the eternal question which begs to be answered every day, which proves elusive, as slippery as a fish.

 

Or is it more like, “Who am I today?” and do I have the courage to answer truthfully?

Advertisements

The You-ness of You.

The You-ness of You

 

Sing Hi! Sing Ho!

To the You-ness of You.

To the You-ness of You

Shout out Kazoo!

KAZOO!

For the You-ness of You

Is a big whop bam boom!

The Boudica Challenge

 

http://www.justgiving.com/theboudicachallenge

 

Good People who read my blog, welcome, welcome to my latest insane (simply a synonym for genius by the way) idea.

The background

My bike is also called Boudica.

Mostly because I dig Boudica and think she is one badass woman.

Also there is Nikki.

She is very cool. Her bike is called Hermin.

(I think Boudica and Hermin may have a thing going on but we can’t find out for certain. They’re keeping very quiet about it all.)

Anyhow…

When Nikki found out that my bike was called Boudica I made a stupid joke about riding around naked with butter knives attached to my wheels.

Nikki took it from a joke and suggested we actually do something useful with such an insane idea.

Naturally I loved it, except the naked idea (ouch). Some lateral thinking later and…. TA DA!

The Boudica Challenge was born!

And So…

July 24th 2010 is the day that The Boudica Challenge takes place.

Working West to East and riding three trails in one day, totalling 35 miles (yikes):

Brechfa:      Gorlech Trail: 12 miles

Afan:          The Penhydd Trail: 14 miles

Cwmcarn:    Twrch Trail: 9 miles

Inspired by Boudica’s story, we are supporting Refuge, because one woman in four experiences domestic violence at some point in her life.

Furthermore, two women are killed each week by a current or former partner.

Domestic violence accounts for almost a quarter of all violent crime and in 90% of domestic violence incidents children are in the same or next room.

On average a woman will be assaulted by her partner or ex-partner 35 times before reporting it to the police.

It is shitty, shitty, shitty and if we can help by riding our bikes stupid stylee around mountain bike tracks then that is what we want to do.

More details…

We shall be riding in gold bikinis and cycle shorts since it is common knowledge that this is what all modern day lady superheroes wear.

Our hair shall be red – Boudica’s was. It wouldn’t be fair if we did not have red hair.

It is not a closed event – we want to raise the profile of mountain biking for women, and the more people involved, the more money we can raise.

If you want to be involved – let me know in the comments section and I will get back to you.

Fancy Supporting Us?

Well the least troublesome way is to donate using the link at the top of the page, that way from the comfort of your desk chair you know you’re helping and you don’t have to ride around in a gold bikini feeling stupid.

Or you could join in with us as mentioned above.

We’re setting up a website too and when that is up we will be letting you know if there is anything we need. So I hope you’ll visit us there when it is live.

Right then – that’s the news lovelies. More soon!

The best day off ever

I had a day off! Yes, normally I usually get one a week, BUT this time I got to spend it with people, actual real people, because it coincided with their days off too!

So this is what I do on such a day:

Ride Cwm Carn in the snow


Which was so much fun!! (Please feel free to ignore the ridiculous pink cycle computer. It doesn’t work anyway.)

Then…

Go climbing

 


I’ve just noticed that my shoes match my hoodie – not intended but I’m still a little impressed.

They all seem to laugh gently and think I’m taking the piss when I insist that colour co-ordination improves climbing… but, you know – it does.

Didn’t help me much as I was knackered and ended up downgrading in a big way and swearing a bit on one route, but hey – it was fun.

Also – yes, I have mud on my trousers.

That’s because I was a silly Doris and forgot to pack a change of trousers and hence was climbing in my riding trousers, which were muddy. Very muddy.

So there you have it. Lots of fun had by me.

Thinking less, doing more

Confidence crisis…

Or trust crisis.

Or something.

Actually, I’m not so sure it’s even a crisis, so much as a perpetual questioning.

Can I do this?

“This” being a full time job, university, starting a wee sewing business and a bit of a social life and some sleep.

Maybe, maybe find someone to lavish with love and attention along the way?

See?

Feels like a big ask.

And then I make a petticoat.

Or come up with a totally doable project or design (even with my limited pattern cutting skills) or buy an overlocking machine and my heart sings with the possibility.

But get this:

I did make a petticoat.

I have found an overlocker for a steal. Or just a really good price actually.

I do get unbelievably excited over designs in my head and I’m sketching.

I have fabric and I have patterns.

I have a project book where I write everything down.

I have a plan, of sorts – alternate days – sewing, uni, personal and so on.

And a new motto – “Think less, do more.”

Because when I start to think and think and think and think and think and think and think. Okay- you get the picture.

I get frozen in my mind and all action goes out the door, until my brain finds a perfect solution.

But by doing – guess what I am doing it.

I think.

In the mean time – here’s another cute picture of George. You may think this is favouritism as I never have pictures of Stout. But Stout runs away – seriously.

George just poses.

The Petticoat – at last!

The Petticoat

 

 

So there you have it – my first petticoat.

Sewn without pattern and just kinda thrown together, in a day for the next evening.

Experimenting with my new ruffler foot.

I discovered that yes, it makes gathering much much easier but, hell did I need a lot of fabric.

So worth it though – totally makes me more feminine than I can possibly describe.

And it made my dress look AWESOME.

 

Oh, oh yeah – and you can go “floof, floof” with your skirt when you have it on.

Gorgeous.

I say every girl should have one.

In Praise of the Negative

I don’t know, seems to me that everyone these days is all about the positive and not nearly enough credence gets given to the good old negative.

The truly immeasurable, therapeutic value of a spectacular moan is often lost in a chorus of, “Yes but, look at it this way…”

The thing is – I don’t want to.

Nope.

Not even close.

If I wanted to I would not be having this conversation with you.

If I wanted to appreciate the silver lining then that is what I would be looking at and praising right about now.

I would be all like, “Hey!!! Check out this amazing silver lining I just found. Isn’t it just wonderful and marvellous and the bestest thing ever?” and other such annoying things.

What I want to do is have a good old moan, so please, please, for all that is good and holy in this life, do not start sprouting off telling me to be positive about the situation.

Because I am not stupid.

I will get round to feeling positive when I am good and ready

Right now, what I need is some mutual appreciation of the shittiness of my current situation.

Some permission to not want to do the thing…

Some hand holding and cuddling. Some cheerleading and understanding.

Some remembering that we are all human here – still. In spite of our best endeavours.

Don’t worry – I will do the thing, I just want to be allowed not to want to.

It is shitty – why do I have to pretend that it is lovely and pretty and pink and covered in bows?

Shit covered in bows and pinkness looks like… shit covered in bows and pinkness. Brown and pink…

Which is just stupid if you ask me.

Because it is shit and there is no harm in calling it shit if you ask me.

(You are reading my blog, so I am going to assume you are asking me okay? Okay.)

Actually – doing just that may have prevented cholera in quite a few instances.

Look where dressing that up as “we don’t have a problem here” got people.

Dead mostly.

Huh? Huh? You see – I do have a point after all.

Yeah.

So there.