The Never Ending Contradiction That Is Me

Tides of Change

2006-06-09T19:14:00.000+02:00

Tides of change.

So much has happened in my life lately it is hard to know where to start. I have been doing very little… all the events of resent times have happened to me as apposed to requiring my direct involvement.

If you’re a Karma kinda person then I must have squashed some ant destined to be the next Buddha, because someone somewhere hates me. Allow me to remind you that I am expecting my baby on the 10^th July, now imagine how it must feel to be told that you have to leave your house by the 30^th June…. All of 10 days before a tiny baby (who I still have no idea how to look after) arrives. That’s right kids – my landlord is a FUCKING ASSHOLE!! We are basically subletting our apartment – sounds like a recipe for disaster I know but in a country where the average rent for a one bed apartment is in the region of £700.00 and the average salary is about £15,000 it’s not exactly a matter of choice. So rich Swede rents flat – said Swede gets tax benefits for being a Gib resident. Humble but decent young couple sublet from rich man for half the rent. We have somewhere to live, he has an address. This arrangement has worked harmoniously for ages…. Unfortunately it would seam that Rich Swedish business men have pretty much no morals!! And so on the 1^st June we were informed that he was letting the place go for business reasons – sure he threw in a plea off supposed ill health for good measure but frankly hugerberderererer. Result….. need new place to live!! Panic, dispare, anger, futility the list of emotions were endless.... (to be continued).

The World in Sepia?

2006-04-24T10:57:00.000+02:00

So, is sepia a romantic haze, or just the world seen through shit smeared, tea stained binoes? I have always had a love of photography, but what was I to think when my actual world turned the colour of terracotta water?

Here I was innocently sitting at my desk (trying my hardest to look busy) when I peered out of my office window to find that everything was brown/orange!! The sea, the buildings, the sky. I looked out of the opposing window – MORE brown houses!! I waddled over to the “safety” window and very awkwardly craned my neck until it was contorted enough to squeeze through the bottom… nope, it’s not the glass, it’s the world. THE WORLD HAS GONE BROWN.

I mean we have all herd of vanilla skies, but Kenyan river skies? Last night the river burst it’s banks and the thunder roared. I half expected to wake to find the ground, buildings and trees stained orange, but it would seam that the norm of grey has been returned.

So:

Red sky at night – shepherds delight

Red sky in the morning – shepherds warning

Browny/orange sky in the afternoon - shepherds run for the hills – there’s a storm brewing

Bizarre skies apart all is well. The baby doth grow (see huge bump) like there is no tomorrow……. Of which there are few baby free ones remaining, 71 to be exact. Had a trip to the hospital on Wednesday which was not all that fun… was having really bad stomach cramps at work and ended up leaving. Like a crazed mad woman I got the buss to the hospital – I dunno what I was thinking – I was also crying inconsolably behind my €4.00 sunglasses, so I imagine I looked like a bit of a nutter. As it turns out everything is fine, and the crippling pain I was in is nothing to do with the wee one.

Aside from the drama and scaryness of the situation, something good came of it, in fact a few good and one bad thing came of it to be precise:

In typical Dr fashion, people were bustling around me spouting very scary sounding things in a very off the cuff way. Terms like, preterm labour, false labour, contraction monitor. There was talk of going to Malaga……… for the birth. You can’t use words like labour, birth or contractions around a not so ready/organised mother to be and then just WALK OFF!! Andy and I exchanged panicked glances a fair few times before it was clarified that we were in fact not about to become parents (well not yet anyway)!!

For me it ousted a feeling I had been harbouring. I have been really worried that I don’t really want the baby at all, that I will hate being tied down and having to look after it, resent him or her even. But all these worries have been well and truly quashed…. For that brief period of time where I thought the baby was maybe only a matter of hours away (all be them pain filled) all I could think about was how happy I felt that I was finally going to get to meet him/her. The fact that we have no crib and I currently have no idea how and when to breath paled into insignificance when compared to the awesomeness of having our little baby in my arms. I now it’s a bit OTT and soppy, but it was an amazing & relieving instinctive reaction.

On the not so shiny side of the coin, it would seam that the experience has sort of had the
opposite effect on Andy. Obviously I can’t speak for him, but I think that all these months of being my rock and feeling so under control were shaken ever so slightly by the prospect of a real baby. It would seam that my 7.5 months of panic and fearing I will be desperately inadequate have come to an end just as Andy’s have begun. it must be something that happens to every expectant parent… fatherhood is a daunting thing, but I genuinely can’t imagine anyone better for the job. Andy is: kind, gentle, honest, generous, loving, stubborn, hardworking, ambitious, proud, fun and a million other things… what more could any child ask for? Personally I’m banking on playing the she’s a bit odd but we love her card for my parenting responsibilities.

Rightly well back to counting the minutes until my maternity leave starts and staring vacantly at the ever filling inbox I am supposed to be monitoring. For now I leave you with this actual quote from a WallMart staff appraisal:

“the wheel is turning but the hamster is dead”

and:

what the fuck are these????

Vanity Fair

2006-03-05T17:20:00.000+01:00

I have been pondering something…. Someone I know has abandoned the world of Bloggery having quite accurately pointed out that airing your personal feelings, happenings and aspirations in a public domain is not necessarily a good thing.

I think I would go further and say that it is a dangerous, self indulgent form of denial. Yet here I am airing away. There was a time (for me at least) when I would work through thoughts in the real world via discussion and action…. now it is often the case that I spill here and then consider the subject filed.

For me, one of the purposes of this place was to help organise my thoughts. There has been so much change for me over the last two years that I was at the point where I could not have a defined thought. Imagine if you will a fast flowing stream of objects as if in a jet stream, hurtling by, leaving just blurs of colour. I would either be unable to grasp from the stream a single subject or emotion to reflect on or having determined it impossible, just sit vacant, staring at yellow animated morons. Filling hours of potential energy with nothing.

This Blog gave me an opportunity to pick any one of these beginnings of a thought and explore it in a place where interruptions, counter opinions and judgement were non existent. This allowed me to whittle my torrent of feelings into intelligible ideas, thus giving me that little more time to actually live.

Why it had to be here in a place accessible to the public I’m not sure. Being a creative person I value the ability to use images as a part of my expression, something that can not easily be done in the pages of a private diary. To record all that is here locally as a document seems pointless, it is as if the possibility of serving a purpose is sufficient justification for placing these words on the publicly available internet. After all… if I were to be writing all this and not sharing it, It would be a self-indulgent waist of time.Publishing it… well that makes it topical and valid right? Otherwise I would be vain, and I couldn't possibly be vain could I?

Bahhhhh, buy my wool for $1,000,000

2006-03-05T13:47:00.001+01:00

Pregnant women can not operate Washing machines.....

Things that are bad:

I turned my beautiful Pashmina to felt, then the cat was sick on it. Several days later I turned my almost (Hinty hint) Mother-In-Law's angora jumper to felt.

These things are bad.

Stairs, Biscuits and Sludge

2006-03-04T12:49:00.000+01:00

It has been too long!! Aside form my hideous segway creation I have been completely useless in the update ways.

There has been so much going on. A trip to the Ooo K see my mum and brother… to show off my ever growing bump, scans of said bump and other general baby related activities.

I am also innately lazy so there is always that to throw into the mix. The general lackadaisical attitude remains, but there is something else about me these days. A new found determination, focus or something. Perhaps it is the impending arrival… There is no harm in being a skint, hobo, dreamer when it is you alone who may have to sacrifice those beautiful shoes or forgo the fifth muffin on your lunch break. I had always envisaged my family in a nice house (with stairs), a scruffy garden filled with flowers and plenty of places to dig and build dens, money enough to go on holiday puddle jumping. I’m not talking plasma TV, ice making fridge money, just enough to provide the basics with some biscuits on the side.

The urgency was not there for me to attain these things for myself, but now I have someone else to look out for, you can consider this little lady’s arse seriously kicked.

The prospect of dragging my self into this kind of office, doing a job that is entirely inconsequential is no longer terrifying, instead it is a funny. There is no way on earth I will let that happen to me. I would be robbing myself, my child(ren) and Andy of a happy determined woman. I would become sludge.

So in an attempt to avoid become sludge I have finally begun to put my jewellery making back into action. Even more remarkable though is the new “nice Shiv” I have launched. I am trying to exude nice, approachable and interested… sarcastic Shivvers is having a rest. Fear yee not, there will be no PGA meetings for me, but my tongue has been softened ever so slightly. I am
hoping that this can be a temporary adjustment……… I have always liked being cutting and
ruthless but I will have to befriend a new ilk of person….*gasp*…. The ones with children who arrange flowers and crochet. My master plan is to take wine to all such social events, remove all Barry Manilow related paraphernalia and burn tweed. Therein ridding the entire world of all annoying middle-aged petition toting women. Which is the lesser evil I wonder? The former or Drunk, naked, manilow haters? Well either way …Humph*

Because we all need a Segway

2006-02-27T15:49:00.000+01:00

Life and Death and Life Again....

2005-12-01T11:19:00.000+01:00

Life is amazing. I know what you’re thinking… She’s on a high again, full of life, energy, enthusiasm and hope….. It’s only a matter of time before she spirals, like leaves falling from the autumn tree, into a dark place that will almost, but not quite consume her.

Well I know myself well enough to know that I can offer you, nor I, no guarantee that that won’t happen…. But there is something different in me now. The time for self-indulgent, introspective, musing is over. I can’t say that I’m happy about it, I have genuinely enjoyed the past 24 years of complaining and feeling hard done by….. but alas the inevitable – time to grow up.

My Granny died on the 29^th October 2005. It is something that almost everyone experiences… their Grand Parent’s funeral. This was the first I have been to and it got me. Apart form the obvious upset there was something very humbling about it. The passing of a woman who was frail and riddled with pain evoked a strange collection of emotions. Injustice – that my Granny had been ripped from my family and me. Of course there is no injustice in it at all. We are dying from the moment we are born, as I sit here typing I am decaying, my eyesight worsening.

And whilst I am dieing, I am growing a baby…. Giving life to another human being!! That's right I, Miss Siobhan Myles and Mr Andrew Blackburn are going to have a baby!!

At the time the first couple of paragraphs were written I had just come back from Ireland and was unaware of my impending child!! Just two days after I got back Andy and I took a test. And there it was, like a soldering iron to the eye, grenadine in ice (reference from my bar days) or a dead shark in your drive way….. unmistakable, hard hitting and unavoidable!! A huge VERY dark pink dot…. In the positive window…. It turns out that the "stick o’news" is impervious to staring, shaking, turning over and ignoring…. It just stays the same – positive!!

It is indescribable this whole thing. There was a flurry of emotions from both of us initially…. We had said a few days previously that if I were to be pregnant it wouldn’t be the end of the world. But how different things are when … well they are different.

The fact that we had said that made me feel pressured into feeling elated and calm, truth be told I was terrified and really very detached. Then I felt guilty for not feeling the way I thought I should. We’re talking in a day here – all these emotions flying thorough my head, none staying long enough to be considered but like a flash from a camera, lasting just long enough to leave an impression.

There was talking and some crying and some laughing and here I am 2 months later…. 13.5 weeks pregnant. Elated doesn’t even come close to how I feel now. This isn’t all about me and bump though, Andy is over the moon too. I can only really speak for my self here, on my blog, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t realise the hugeness of this for other people, particularly you Andy. If I could climb inside your mind and know how you feel I would. But I can’t. So I’ll sit and talk about me some more as usual.

Allow me to introduce to you the most wonderful person in the world.... Baby Blackburn/Myles...... I will save the details as they can all be found here:

www.wealllovericehere.blogspot.com

This is a separate Blog dedicated solely to the development of our little baby…. Something which might not be of any interest to some of you. It also serves a couple of other important purposes.

During pregnancy I have found that sometimes I don’t really feel like I exist as an individual. I have never liked being anything other than me. Even in relationships... I hate this idea of being half of someone else. I want to be me – as a whole, who is ALSO in a relationship with someone. Every part of my body belongs to me, every opinion I have is mine and I am entitled to it, the prospect of relationship censorship is horrible to me!!

So anyway yes, I sometimes feel a bit like I have to share everything. My body, my energy and I think that keeping this space for me and what I think is paramount if I want to maintain some kind of individuality.

It is also important for the baby. I don’t want to ebb into his/her right to be documented and have time and words dedicated exclusively to him/her. I think that it would be unfair to dilute the importance of this persons little life record with anecdotes of my working day.

So waffle aside, the above link is to our baby's Blog.

Wow that was exhausting!!

Other events have been in abundance. I haven’t really felt like writing while I have been harbouring a secret as life changing as I have, and as a consequence there is lots to up date you on.

But for now i shall leave you with this little beauty... he's a golden tail eel!!

Why Not

2005-10-21T14:27:00.000+02:00

What follows is an e-mail I sent to Andy quite a while ago, just in the process of sorting out my mailbox and came across it – thought you might fancy a giggle……………

"Shiv goes away for the long weekend and chills out, she has a fantastic time and enjoys being able to spend so much time with her sexy boyfriend (who she loves wholeheartedly). It's the longest time they have spent together and after a while all the angst that had been building between them disappears. It seamed to Shiv that this was because they weren't pissy and annoyed with each other but at their annoying lives. In fact the more time they spent together the more in love Shiv fell.

****Shiv is digressing and will stop.............

So anyway after above mentioned chilled and faith restoring weekend of blissful rest and *censored* Shiv must return to work. She is surprisingly enthusiastic about this and gets up early in anticipation. Time is spent faffing and ironing, she plays with the cats and is smiling a lot. She decides that as time is ticking on she really ought to start getting ready for work. This goes ok although Kleo (one of the cats) is determined to cause as much havoc as felinely possible. At one point he manages to get his head through the handle of a plastic bag full of stuff and begins to freak out. Still she smiles. She puts on her new hair band; this doesn’t go overly well and the 'Do' needs more work. Still she smiles. It becomes apparent to Shiv (and indeed Kleo - who would no doubt laugh if he could) that the barnet is in dire need of a hair tie. All the while the clock is ticking. Alas no hair tie can be found, every nook and cranny is searched and every corner and crevice investigated, still nothing. Finally Shiv decides that it is time for action and takes a kitchen knife to a thong.

This works OK and Shiv leaves the house. It’s a little later than she had hoped but there is still plenty of time for the planned amble to work. She wanders down Main Street popping into all the chemists along the way. She is hoping to buy some hair ties to replace the knicker elastic she is currently sporting. Unfortunately Shiv only has 72p and it would seam that hair ties are ALL £1.49 regardless of anything. It is becoming difficult but still she smiles. She has now resigned her self to the fact that she can not afford new hair ties and is allowing her mind to wander to thoughts of beautiful pine forests and drives on the bike. Her smile grows and there is the faint hum of a song in her head.

Then the final straw: Her shoe breaks and she is forced to walk like a spastic for the remainder of her journey to work. This new 'spasticised' walk is excruciatingly slow and interspersed by complete loss of said shoe and resulting foot on scanky Main Street. Shiv finally arrives at work late, with one shoe on and a bit of her pants in her hair. LOL not quite the return to work she had hoped for."

The End..........

The Wanderer Returns

2005-10-16T14:47:00.000+02:00

Fear yee not oh imaginary one(s), dead I am not. Pissed off yes but not dead. I'm sure that those bloggers amongst you will feel my pain when I say that (like a muppet admittedly) I had already written the majority of what was to be this post, but when I returned today to finish the master piece off - it was....... GONE!!! ~Why OH why didn't I listen to the God that is Firefox before "closing all 5 tabs"? It goes without saying of course that it was about as genius as it gets but as it is no more I shall start again.

Well, the lack of Shiv time is not the result of any huge trauma, simply a lack of time. My all knowing, trustworthy, professional employer took it upon them selves to make about the third of my company redundant - luckily for Lloyd (s TSB) I was not one of the fortunate few (hut hum, I mean unfortunate few). This has made my job much more demanding on my time. Initially this was a good thing, plenty to do, much more stimulating - at one point I think I actually had enough energy to drag my self over to the water machine. This replacing my usual ritual of staring at it like a shrivelled prune in the hope that it might fall, smash, and that water would come gushing towards me. At this point I could roll off my chair and suck on the 50 year old carpet tiles that adorn my soul destroying office. Suffice to say that this enthusiasm has since been quashed by the drone of monotony and I am once again restored to a bitter, resentful, number.

Analogy 1: Man (called, ummm lets say ...... Stew) works for the council. Stew's job is dog poo removal. He wanders round the parks and the streets in search of shit to clean up. He doesn’t really mind his job but is far from enamored. As time passes Stew begins to tire of the mundane, quiet nature of this job. One day the council sacks the other 100 poo boys that serve the mile squared patch that Stew is responsible for. This means that rather than amble round, Stew is now actively seeking out poo in the tiniest of crevices (no pun intended). He feels great, more responsibility more mental stimulation. But then.... like the gush of water pouring from a broken dispenser, the feeling disperses. Stew has had a revelation and now knows the irrefutable truth, the truth that at the end of the day, regardless of anything else, SHIT IS SHIT. Here endth lesson 1.

Right well that aside things have been really fantastic. There has been so much going on socially including my Birthday. First there was National Day. A celebration of the Independence of the country of Gibraltar – basically one big “up-yours” to Spain. The following kinda sums up the day (just for the record, he wasn't with us):

Unfortunately for your terminally hard-done-by narrator here, I was viciously hung over!! A couple of friend of Andy’s came over from England for the festivities and who do I opt to introduce them to first? Yep that’s right…………. paralytic Shiv. Shit Fuck Bollocks indeed. Nothing like having complete strangers who you want to make a good impression with having to support you and hold back your hair.

Still the following day the apologies flowed and the sorry hat was donned. The day began with brekie and cider, progressed onto cider and vodka jelly, shortly followed by beer and cider. I think that you probably get the idea and so I will let the picks talk for them selves:

I would like to be able to call Rob and Sam friends? It’s a funny one that isn’t it. Knowing when someone can be classified as a friend. When you’re a kid it’s really very easy – you have fun with someone, and wham bam, that’s it… you’re best friends. In the adult (and yes I do use that word loosely) world, things have strange rules and boundaries, or is that just me? Well regardless, if either of you are reading this I think you’re both lovely. Perhaps I ought to offer a small apology to Rob for accidentally flirting quite outrageously with him the first day we met, I blame the vino. Just for the record I have discussed this with the love of my life (found here) oops wrong pick, I ment here, and all is well.

Other than that there was my Birthday, which I have to say was really really lovely!! Andy asked me what I wanted for my birthday and I said that I wanted to be treated like a princess, and well what do you know….. the boy did not let me down!! The eve before my birthday I was taken for a meal at my fav restaurant here in Gib. Champagne awaited our arrival, at the turn of midnight there was the singing of happy birthday (on his feet no less) and the giving of a “small” pre birthday gift. A beautiful elegant necklace and earring set. It was really magical, and now I come to think about it rather drink fuelled (3 bottles of champagne, couple of pints, two bottles of wine and a healthy serving of glayva) . Then the following day (my actual Birthday) I was presented with (amongst other highly cool things) a 5 foot wooden Giraffe. Now, he makes me very happy indeed!! He has been named Ber’giraffe after this wrongen on the grounds that he has an inquisitive look about him.

*Just read back over the comment re how very happy my 5 foot Giraffe makes me and would like to make it clear that he is strictly ornamental - no rude touching involved alright you sick fucks!!*

Met up with some mates in the afternoon, thank you all for coming was mucho fun – God bless the beta blockers I say. Nothing like slowing your heart down to dull your hangover. And there you have it.

There was so much more I wanted to talk about but alas I can go on no more (I am hearing faint cries of relief) Blogger image uploader coupled with the severe shitness of my Dad’s computer have rendered me devoid of all drive………

so I shall leave you with these, because they’re nice :)My Mum had this picture in her bedroom when I was a kid. Hey, who needs a Playstation when you have an Esher?

This is Nora Fok, or her work at least. Fascinating woman who I will talk about more another time.

Sheepish I be

2005-09-05T13:26:00.000+02:00

I think that an apology is in order…… in fact there is no think about it. My previous post was a little vindictive, and in hindsight regrettable. Rather than make amendments and/or delete comments I feel the following is warranted:

Mr X, you are absolutely right. I offer my unreserved apologies to those whom I may have caused unwarranted offence. It was not my intention to get so personal, perhaps I still have not out grown my child faze. What would my mother say!! Sincerely……….. I am sorry for my uncalled for, rude actions

I tell you one thing that has changed since childhood: that feeling of guilt is harder to shake these days. Remember when you could run around, steal your best mates toy, trip her up and all would be forgiven with a single “sorry”? Well take it from me, it doesn’t work any more.

Ohhh one last thing

2005-08-24T15:33:00.000+02:00

Look at the lovely Dolphin........... I live right on the beach, and my boyfriend, his family, my little Bro and I were having a BBQ there the other day, and what do you know!!! There in the sea is a dead Freeking Dolphin!!! Belly up dead.

Well anyhoo... You know when you do things that you know you are gonna regret??! Well this is one of those occasions! - Andy and I were swimming when we saw the dolphin coming, like a fool I decide that we really ought to go and investigate this fascinating dead flipper. So up we swim, and circle the dolphin. It really was very disturbing. Do you have any idea how much that freaked me out? - yuck. Then later that same day as we are chilling on the sand. People begin to gather (being lazy bastards) we send the children to investigate. Yep, some reprobate has brought the dolphin in on his canoe and every one is just standing there staring and prodding at the corpse. THEN some freak just picks him up and chucks it in the bin. I mean honestly, does that sound normal to you? You can't just throw a dead dolphin in a BIN!!!! Can you?

There is some other highly exciting news in the world of Shiv: Andy got a new job!! This makes me very happy because he fucking detested working in his old place. I was made Assistant Manager of my first Restaurant when I was 18. By the time I was 20 I was a Restaurant Manager. I was excellent at my job, but I wasn't a very good manager for my staff. I am qualified to pass comment and judgment on the failings of Andy's previous employer - because they are shortcomings that I recognise in my self.

Mr X as I shall call him, is a terrible manager for one simple reason............... he is in over his head. The position he holds exceeds his capabilities, plain and simple. He may well have the skills required for the position, but can he people manage, can he run a team? ummmmmmmmm NO:

He optimises the panic spurred "good cop/Bad cop" attitude that so may 15 year old McDonalds supervisors adopt.
You wanna be this persons mate, you like them, "sure you wanna fag, no worries chill man". And then it creeps into your head and you begin to wonder, am I being too lenient? Am I being exploited? Do they respect me and my position, it is after all my job to tell people what to do (wrong!!)!! And that's it, within 2 minutes you are determined to exert your God given authority............Ha, I'll show him who's the boss, yes, yes by..........by sticking his hand in the fryer when he comes back ---- Ha, who's the boss now Bitch!!

It is not a good thing in any of us, but it can be understood in the case of a Mckie'D minion. I understand that I used to treat people badly, give them mixed messages that did not facilitate a good working environment - I was too young............... What's your fucking excuse Mr X?? Hey, is it because you have no Penis? Is it because your girlfriend looks like a prostitute? Poor you.

Other exciting news is that My brother has set a date for his wedding!! And I am to be a bridesmaid :) Please God don't let the dresses be like this!!!!!!!!!

Makes you wonder really, about growing up - my brother married........ Time to crack on me thinks, must: Find Good job, Buy a house, Get Married. Shall we say all by next Tuesday? No props!!! :)

The Truth of Life

2005-08-23T18:39:00.000+02:00

The truth of life is that it is complicated. Relationships (of all types), economics, politics, career development the lot. But what is important is that you do your best to be your best in every possible respect. I am a firm believer in nothing, so please forgive any contradictions that are found in the musing that follows. As the title of this blog suggests......... it is inevitable :)

So on the subject of doing your best. It could be said that to murder someone in the most brutal way possible would be to do your best. To inflict the maximum level of mental distress on an enemy is to do your best. With this in mind what are the additional criteria by which one should regulate their conduct?

Well it would be logical to rule out inflicting harm on others. But what if a man with a knife has your child and the only way to save her is to shoot the man? Does that count? - it would sure as shit hurt to be shot so it is inflicting harm. So OK you can bend the rules depending on the situation, but what if your sense of perception is altered? A schitsophrenic can genuinely believe that there is danger where there is none. Well if it's justifiable to harm a person to protect another or your self, then where do you draw the line? If you keep the rule bending in check, who keeps you in check?

It seams to me that it is not possible to draw up rules by which to live your life, so I guess that that is the test. That is how you define your humanity - your ability to make decisions and adapt to different situations. Things can not be set in stone, but the way you apply your basic beliefs that makes you who you are.

Right well that's quite enough tree hugging crap from me, so for now:

Falling

2005-08-15T17:47:00.000+02:00

Currently listening to "Goodbye my Lover" (James Blunt) this guy really has got it!!!

I have just been to that website linked above and how beautiful?!! I really wish that life were more magical..... That squirrels could talk, that you left glitter footsteps where you walked, and could float in a bubble filled skies.

But perhaps our world is more magical than I give it credit for: flowers, fish - yes, fish are very magical. When I dove the Great Barrier Reef I was overwhelmed at the beauty and intrigue of everything around me. In fact that is the closest I have been to my ideal world.

Forget the beauty of the fish and the coral, there is something so enchanting about being submerged in a completely alien environment. That world offered me complete silence, and escapism. I don't know about you but I can say hand on hart that I think too much, way too much.

This fact makes me cripplingly irritable. I know it may sound absurd but I honestly can't help it. You know, I haven't always been this way..... When I was a teenager, just left home, I was so laid back, one day, one minute at a time. If I didn't enjoy something I'd stop doing it, if I were bored I would go out and find some amusement. Now I sit in my house stewing, wishing I weren’t such a looser, wishing I had more energy, wishing I had a better job, wishing my family and peers respected me more, wishing I respected me more.

I'm too scared to finish a piece of art, textile or jewellery in case it is rubbish. Hey if I don’t finish it, its not crap and worthless........... It’s just not finished!! Completely absolved of all responsibility and accountability........... After all, if I finished it, it would be perfect - I have just chosen not to.

I fain stupidity and spout bollocks about Unicorns and CareBears rather than have a sensible conversation based on real events, well formulated opinions derived from real life.

I sit at home waiting for it to be too late to go out. Like to a party, I wait and wait and wait until it is too late to attend, and then get really pissed off at my self for not going.

Does everyone have such panic in their heads? Have such a fear of failure? And if I can identify these ridiculous preoccupations and walls I erect, why am I seemingly completely unable to alter my behaviour?

Even my truest of friends would describe me as grounded, brave, strong, fun, full of life, confident, cleaver, interesting..... But I don't feel like that today, today I feel stupid and I don't know why.

Because I Can

2005-07-21T16:15:00.000+02:00

Have A Lovely Weekend

Come Fly With Me, Come Fly, Come Fly Away......

2005-07-21T13:52:00.000+02:00

Yep, that's right folks, I'm off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Ireland!

Before you groan in exasperation at the inconsequential nature of my Blog, let me assure you that I have not mentioned it simply to furnish you with an itinerary the length of a prize winning marrow.

Oh no my invisible friend (if there is even one of you) I have mentioned it because my job is so insanely boring that I would rather waffle on at you than stare into the nothingless web, waiting for someone to make a mistake that I have to fix - although having said that I think it would be fair to say that I aint gonna have to wait long!! Muppets!!

Mind you I call them muppets, I have become so drained of mental stimulation I am soon gonna look like this:

Chained to my Plastic lacquered, plywood desk answering stupid peoples, stupid questions. God I had such high hopes for my future. People are always talking about the dangers of under nurturing children. Not giving them enough encouragement, not being supportive enough, not promising them the fucking earth. Well did it ever occur to anybody that it is possible to go too far the other way?

The world is full of young people now who genuinely believe that they can all be astronauts, College lecturers, Doctors and Brain surgeons. Well frankly not everyone is capable of fulffilling their dreams. Intellectual, financial and physical limitations are but a few factors that we are told as children we can overcome. Well I'm sorry but realistically this is not always the case, Chiefs and Indians - the fundamental way all societies work. Ants, Lions, Elephants, us - to propose that everyone can be a leader in every field and that everyone is capable of anything is foolish and dangerous (in my opinion). It only leads to dissapointment.

Well kids, unfortunately you can't have everything you want, yes you do have to pay all that money you spent on cider back YOURSELF, and no it isn't all someone else's fault. Live learn and grow the fuck up! - says she who is eternally in debt and lives in a dream world where she has a cross between a unicorn and Starlight for a mode of transport. Still @ least i take responsibility for my own (abundant) shortcomings.

Lighten the mood

2005-07-19T16:52:00.000+02:00

Well after my very full on rant last time I thought it time to lighten the mood.

One day Shiv went back to Bristol to see her friends, whilst there she thought to her self........ I know what, today I'll get me hair cut - a normal enough thing to decide to do I think you would agree? This decision came not too long after a rather enjoyable lunch with some friends fuelled by a generous helping of vino etc.

So off Shivers goes to the hair dresser. She sits there, has a glass of wine in the swanky reception and then goes and talks with her stylists. I go through the colouring I want done, we agree on three blonds and a brown - all perfectly standard. Colourist goes and the stylist turns up. Hello I toot, we discuss my hair and I am VERY clear that what I would like is a simple trim, I like my hair the way it is!! She agrees to this and fucks off.

All is going completely to plan.

I have the dye put on my hair, the usual burning sensation ensues, eyes going blurry - I like it.
I get given another glass of wine the dye sits there stripping my hair of all natural colour and then it happens........................ Some dappy, dappy person (a work experience bod no doubt) gives me a hair magazine!!!! Surely it is day one teaching in "beauty school" that you DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES give a fucked person a hair magazine mid hair job?

Wouldn't you know it, Shiv finds a picture of the perfect haircut. How could I not have known all my life, that this was the haircut for me??? I mean seriously I have been walking around my whole life with the incorrect haircut. Well something MUST be done about this oversight immediately.

So I sit there dreaming of how perfect my life will be once I have this magical haircut. I can hardly breath I am so excited - (of course in hindsight that could have be for any number of reasons: the bleach fumes, the gurning........) and then I see the stylist coming over - this is it, this is when the my life begins. I show her the picture of the stunning model with MY magical hair.

She messes with my hair for a bit and then agrees. Here we go, it's happening, it's really really happening!!!! The pile of hair around my chair is growing, the stylist is flaying around making very encouraging noises. I feel like I'm floating and on fire with greatness of it all.

Then come the words I have been waiting for all my life: "that's it, we're done, you look stunning"

I look at my self and can not believe how fabulous the new me is. Never have I been so right. I happily hand over my £80.00 cheap at twice the price. Christ, a magical hair cut is priceless!!

As the day goes on people can't take their eyes off me, heads are turning and I'm feeling great. I go home, faff around with my new "do". I start to wonder about this magical hair of mine, is it perhaps a bit odd? NO don't be silly!......Magical great it is!!

So off I go, have a great night, fall into bed and when I wake up in the morning, with a completely clear head I realise just how magical my hair is!! I rush to the bathroom, look at my self in horror, only to find that I actually look like THIS!!!!!

Shit, Fuck, Bollocks!! - Shiting, Oh my God, Fucking, Shitting, Bollocks! I look like fucking Pat Sharp.

Excuse the excessive expletives but my God, what am I to do??.......Gel? no - worse, Wax? - no worse, ah moose that'll tame my angry mullet - no much worse. I'll just pin it up - no you wont girlie - mullet is far too short for pinning!!!

This is so unfair I consider ways in which to kill the stylist (OH, I'm sorry, did I say stylist??.....I meant SADIST!!!) and then I realise that this is all my fault. Whilst I didn't actually use the word mullet, it is without doubt what I asked for.
Aforementioned fantastical boyfriend and I had only been seeing each other for about two weeks and what do I return with? A freeking mullet.

6 months on and I'm Currently sporting a headband that makes me look like I'm in some half hearted 50's soap :( lesson learned? LOL don't be so silly......This is after all the girl who dyed her waist length blond hair dark plum at the age of 13 and spent the following two years wondering the corridors of the convent school looking like an anaemic Goth.

Well i think you would agree that, that is quite enough from me!! What will it be next time? Depressed angry rantings, or stories that are completely inconsequential and almost impossible to read as the tense and person flit? :) Only time will tell.....

Afflicted by a bout of the Crazies

2005-07-12T16:53:00.000+02:00

Well there it is, I think I might actually be mad.

A persons mental state is so hard to gage, the complexities of the human mind are by nature subjective, so how does one define insanity? Admittedly eating pebbles or thinking you are the Dali Lama when in fact you are a supermarket checkout slave is a pretty good indication. But what if you do nothing overtly strange and yet feel like the ground is swallowing you up, like something is sucking at your very existence and willing you to scream at the most inopportune of times?

Lately I feel like I have no control over myself, like everything I aspire to be is beyond my grasp. In a world filled with horrors and suffering how is it possible for someone with so much to feel so low? I have roof over my head, I have a genuinely amazing boyfriend and a perfectly adequate job.

I think it would be fair to say that there has been some fucked up shit in my life thus far, but in all honesty who can't!! Furthermore I think that my life is comparatively good. Nonetheless, and in an attempt to fulfill the brief outlined in "the Beginning" I shall spill my heart beginning with the thing that saddens me most. What happened to this boy is so very, very unfair:

My eldest brother is severely mentally handicapped. His name is Marcus and he is basically a 6 year old trapped inside a 29 year olds body. The cause of his impairment is ironically a much disputed and yet never discussed topic.

My father insists that he was born pretty much as he is today. My Mother insists that he was born "normal". FACT: One day when Marcus was 4 he fell off a swing in a park, he cracked his head open and spent the following three years in and out of Great Ormond St Hospital. He had to learn how to walk again, talk again, he went almost completely deaf, gained the gift that is epilepsy and lost himself and his family. Overnight his little brother became his big brother and his unborn baby sister became his future guardian.

Three years later when I was about 8 months old Dad left. This was not in the least bit traumatic for me, hell I was a baby, but he left behind him three children and a now single mother.

I used to think that it was a test and that when I was 18 or something everyone would turn round and tell me that none of it was real. That he was fine and we were fine, but of course that never happened. He lived at home until he was about nine years old (I think) and then went into care. He is now in a residential home in Western-Super-Mare and takes a daily concoction of drugs that look like they could kill a horse.

When I was young I asked Mum why Dad left, the answer has echoed round my head ever since: "you're father left because he made me choose, either Marcus went or he did" I don't know it that was ever said, but if it was................... can you imagine?!! Being asked to choose between your husband and your child - by the very person that is supposed to protect you both? To me this is so messed up it's beyond comprehension. His resulting departure tells the choice my mother made.

When people ask my Dad now, and he only has two sons - Patrick and Sean (my little Half Brother). It would seam that the retard is no longer welcome. Well I hope that he burns at your heart Richard I hope that you know what a disgusting person you are.

When I speak to Marcus on the phone and go and see him he always asks after the man who hasn't spoken to or about him in at least 8 years. It breaks my heart. I know (as I'm sure we all do) how strong the feeling of being wanted is. I know how desperately Marcus wants his Dad to love him, to want to go and see him. The amount of birthday cards I have given to Marcus under the guise of Richard and the smiles they have brought to this outwardly grotesque boy's face are testament enough of that.

I'm sorry to vent at any unsuspecting passer by, but i wont dampen the importance of this by ending with some half hearted witty comment. If I did it would rob my brother, and a very special person of the recognition he so muchley deserves.

Something to make you smile

2005-07-10T17:06:00.000+02:00

Thought it might be an idea to spruce the Blog up a little, and what better way than with a happy dragon!!! :)
Just as a warning to those of you who don’t know me well (if there is indeed ANYONE reading this), it is pictures like this that will dominate this place. I am a true believer in escapism, so if you have come here for political enlightenment, mental taxation or a word of sense I suggest you "Next Blog" the hell out outa here.

In fact while I'm here (and given that I can’t get a picture up on my profile yet) perhaps a photo of me might be in order:

Just so we're clear, I don’t always wear enough makeup to suffocate a whale and hang around with trannies (see bald mascara applying man on the right). This was taken during a production ("Lovie" for local Panto) of Sleeping Beauty. In which I played the beauty herself no less :)

I got more than a big head and bad skin out of that though. I also managed to bag the baddy! Yep that’s right in true Panto farce style I found the unlikeliest of loves in the Theatre. He played the Sidekick to the evil spindle toting fairy and yet somehow managed to capture my heart - Perhaps it was a spell!!

Anyway to avoid making you (by which I mean the non-existent readers) sick I shall leave it there. I’m sure you will hear more about him soon enough.

NO I LIED - I feel a rant coming on:

I never knew it was possible to feel so much care an affection for one person. This is perhaps not the best time to introduce him, but I feel that if I didn't I would be doing him an injustice because he is so much a part of me.

He is:

Funny - he can make me laugh like I never knew I could
Good-looking - Picture to follow with permission
Kind
Generous
Intelligent
Lovely
Tall

And when I'm with him I feel completely safe (save that one night that i thought he was gonna eat me, and no not in a rude/good way, as in actually eat me - I blame the drugs). Being wrapped up in his arms I feel like I’m floating. Anyway I suppose that enought really is enough so bye - Again.

The Beginning

2005-07-10T16:31:00.000+02:00

So who am I? That’s a much more complex question than you might imagine. I hardly know. Sometimes I manage to convince myself that I’m a normal grounded young woman. But what do you know..... it turns out that I’m a weird, scatty, indecisive, dyslexic mix of about 17 different people. And none of them are grounded!!

(Just to clarify I’m not actually a schizophrenic - well i hope not)

So, a slightly easier question: why the Blog? It’s essentially a stolen idea (as are most I suppose) I read someone else’s and it occurred to me that maybe “Blogging” could do what no end of concentrating, educating or abuse of illicit substances managed to: organise my thoughts and chill me the fuck out.

Brief history of Shivvers (That’s me): Irish, born and raised in England, grew up in the bizarrely endearing shit hole that is South London, but Bristol, that’s home for me, in my mind. That’s where I did my growing and made the best friends a girl could ever have. Currently living in Gibraltar (That’s my latest attempt to make something of my self. Hasn’t gone overly well, but that’s all to come). Was a restaurant manager for 4 years, almost finished an Art Foundation and love anything that sparkles. So there you have it all you need to know about Siobhan.