inner diva

  • Talking to Godot....

    I live in a teeny tiny village somewhere in the deep South West of England. All thatched roofs and tractors and wellington boots.

    It's chocolate box stuff.

    We have a Post Office, a tiny pub, a chip shop and a church. There's nothing else for miles... Unless we are counting sheep and cows here, in which case there are loads.

    I have no idea how many  people live in the village.  I've only met a couple so far. Mainly the rude woman from the post office who won't actually talk to me because technically I'm an emmet and so I should go back to where I came from, instead of darkening her door in my attempts to buy chocolate or milk or stamps or whatever.

    But apart from the (very) odd one like her, most people are pretty friendly. They are more than happy to talk.

    I'm just not ready to talk back yet...

    So I go to the little church instead and I sit and talk to Godot.

    Continue reading

  • Talking to fridges.....

    A friend of mine is writing a book - A compilation of personal accounts centred around the #metoo hashtag.

    Because we share this in common, my friend and I. We've both experienced the devastation, but thankfully, years later we've worked our way through it and come out on the other side using our respective coping mechanisms. Mine involved talking to a trusted friend at the time, seeking professional help, and eventually writing about it years later on my blog. My friend however, took a slightly less conventional approach....

    We were chatting online. We talked about the book; discussed our own experiences, and  I asked her if she had ever had counselling. After a minutes hesitation, her reply was "Not unless you count talking to the fridge"...

    It was meant to be a joke, but it gave me a kind of lightbulb moment...which I thought that I might share...

    You see, a fridge is designed with a door that can be opened 24 hours a day, meaning that it's always there when you need it. That's kind of handy at 3.00am when your head is going crazy and there's no-one else around...

    A fridge can't talk, so it can't "give advice" or interrupt you mid-flow.  It can't tell the time or walk away either...meaning that you can talk for England if you need too and it won't be going anywhere until that shit is off your chest. No, a fridges  job is to basically chill the wine and keep the chocolate safe for when you've finished off-loading and need consolation...

    It's the perfect tool for the job.

    Continue reading

  • Hedonism......

    So he's coming to see me. This amazing "blast from the past" super-cool person of mine.

    I'm ecstatic.

    Because it's going to be amazing.

    Me and him. A hotel room somewhere. And an absolute whale of a time guaranteed. All arranged lastminute.com which is always how we roll...

     A  "Hey _____  I've been thinking. I've missed your face. And I'd really love to come see you again ...are you gonna be free between ____ and _____? (Him)

    (Me) "What's there to even think about? Do it. Come see me. Get in the car and get down here...will be amazing. So yes. I'll make sure that I'm free...'cos I've missed your face too..."  kind of conversation.

    And so he's coming. To see me. In two weeks. I'm turning cartwheels.

    Fuck...I'm turning cartwheels.

    I need to do a risk assesment...

    Continue reading