Birthday.

My Birthday. I turned 21. I laughed I cried, I laughed again. It was eventful to say the least. Jim, and I went to see some stand-up in SoHo. He baked me a cake, and bought me a Zen Creative player So I can watch films on the tube, and when I travel for work. Its no bigger than the palm of my hand. It also plays music, radio, and shows photographs too. Quite cool!. We also wentto the crobar, in Soho, where we first met.

Four months earlier...

A prelude, to the post below it!

Whilst staying at my sisters. Back from my maiden voyage. Having sailed from Germany to Denmark, and back, with the Army. At the cost of my finances, and fixed abode!

"The wonderful fairness abut life is that everyone is issued with one. Unfortunately some are shorter than others. Still. A whole one all the same. Everyone dies, including the stars. People are living longer than ever. Medicine is good. We do not yet have the cure for cancer, but it is possible in some cases. No cure for aids, but there are women immune to it. In them is the preventative. No one in Britian has to experience pain during surgery. Men, and Women are communicating more (for better, or worse!). Children are no longer given physical discipline (at least not legally). So we are more civilised than our predecessors. It’s interesting how society may consider us in retrospect. Only fifty years ago, the time of our grandfathers, did homosexuals get imprisoned for their acts, or at best put it mental asylums. As homosexuality was considered an illness. As I say, apart from the obvious, I do wonder where we are unknowingly going horribly wrong.


It is the following day, and I again sit on my sisters’ living room floor. Clacking at the entirely matt black, wartime issue typewriter. Having just attempted to call my partner with my SPVpc, personal digital assistant. Touch screen, and stylus. An impressive gadget at the time of writing, though serving little purpose with an unpaid phone bill! So my desperate, self patronising mind can’t even find solace in the words of my beau. I am wearing my sisters McKenzie, dark blue hoody. A pair of black tailored corduroyed trousers, which I believe go very well, with my riding boot esque boots. Hair in pigtails, as I feel it should be done whilst still endearing on me. It is 3:00pm. Being the winter season it’s already dark outside. When I leave the house, I will walk to my destination. The route is more than familiar, yet I will still feel completely lost along the way. This time of year the trees always look like they wish to uproot themselves, and follow me someplace warm. The grass is trying to retreat into the soil, and all the animals have either become estranged or seasonal hermits. Either way there’s none of them to observe. The world seems to shrink. Winter has various effects on my attitude. I am a little easier contented. Warm blankets, hot chocolate, and an old film is the extent of my desires. Perhaps a few long mornings in with the bow. Otherwise all aspirations subside. I appreciate this generally, as it stops me over doing things. However when one becomes financially challenged at this time of year, the prospect of traipsing around the city in the wind, snow, and rain is far from inspiring. Then after doing it once, or twice to no avail, the motivation depletes by at least another 50%. Add that to lack of response from at least forty emails you sent out in one day, and there is ones perfect concoction for a considerably low self esteemed individual. Ho hum. There’s still my youth, my looks, and the uncertified intelligence.

It's all just a walk on the beach really, isn't it? Beautiful no matter how short, and simple it is. One will leave varying depths of footprints, for random numbers of others to see. To then be secure in knowledge that no matter how significant our imprints, eventually it will all be forgotten. Everything is temporary. If you're having the time of your life. The situation will change. The worst time of your life. The situation WILL change. It is reassuring. So that is where I reside my thoughts to, in unfavourable times such as these."

Model me?

Live like nobody's watching.

So I am acknowledging the fact that I've been slack on the blogger front. If it reassures anyone who is genuinely concerned with my WWW faux pas. Please excuse me! It may comfort you somewhat to know I have been doing my bit on the face book scene. However back to the blogging business. Indeed I have finally made it to the smoke. My boyfriend has been living here two years already. He made it all the way from Australia. Myself, I have spent the past two years meaning to do so, a mere 2.5hrs away in Shropshire. It only costs £10 one way! (Virgin rail online). So the excuses for this are nil. There is no reason why I shouldn't have been here sooner! Having spent at least two days a month in London for the past couple of years. Before I met my partner, wishing I could move here permanently. It just took a while to find my balls as it were. Indeed I've shaken the straw from my hair, donned my enviable jacket, and strolled on into this fine town. So far having been officially living here 3 months, I am very happy. I am 20. So I feel in retrospect, that this is actually the most appropriate time to have arrived here. 18 was just under prepared, for both London, and I. Numerous things have happened, that will interest some. Bore the crap out of others. Depends.

While a friend pointed out Paul O’Grady (Lilly Savage) walking his dogs, she cried with delight, 'oh look it's him!!!’ I will never understand this? I saw Alan titchmarsh? Scottish girl from ugly betty/extras? Russell brand? urmmm....It's London? What the hell do people think? A-Z listers are hermits??
Anyway, it is funny to see some people I suppose. Though there's no need to go overboard!? I did a peculiar job last week or so. I basically had to sit, while a make-up (MU) artist pretended to do my make up. While Martine Mccutchion interviewed the mother of Gwen steffanis step daughter. I forget her name. Anyway, the show is called 'The truth about beauty'. Before I arrived, I naively assumed that it may be about the science behind beauty. Symmetry, social acceptance, the emotional implications, and mental perceptions behind it. However I quickly realised it was not! I was to merely look pretty. While they told other girls how to wear their belts higher, and that fat girls shouldn't wear stilettos, and skinnies shouldn't wear a wedge. Snooze! I'm not having a dig at Martine, though the show was a little shallow. As they are. I am content in London actually. I don't mean to be fundamentally British, and whinge or anything. Though I say contented, with a slight air of a most questionable disappointment. I have read George Orwell’s 'down and out, in Paris and London'. Of course I'm not entirely homeless. I did rely initially on my boyfriend, and his housemates. Though now it appears, I am fully on my feet. For the most part of my life I have had an affinity with cats. Mostly due to the obvious fact that no matter what the situation, they always seem to land on their feet. I have had a considerably eventful past. However always landing surreptitiously on my feet. Again like my feline friends. Looking somewhat bedraggled, and feeble at times I'll admit. Though with all four paws resting just the same! Though here I am with a glossy mane, graciously treading with cautious arrogance, about the fine relatively easy situation I find myself. Lovely, but making for quite the beige little piece of reading? What of the fabulous struggles? My rock, and roll style scrapping, up the slide of failure? It's all here. The office temp job. My diary jotted with modelling jobs, and a subject to study in September waiting in the wings. May I consider that I am speaking too soon? Or might I honestly believe that for once, that I have not spoken quite so soon enough!