For anyone who doesn't know (did I miss anyone? probably not!), I took part in a human scenery project at an Amanda Palmer gig this week. I met up with a group of people who I'd only ever emailed and we dressed up in period costumes and wore masks to entertain the audience before and after the gig.

When I was getting ready at my hotel I was utterly terrified because in recent years I have always tried to avoid any attention from strangers, I don't like to be close to people in general, I don't look them in the eye unless absolutely necessary. You could say I'm a little phobic about social situations, yet I asked if I could join this group without any hesitation. The thing is, not wanting to generalise too much, the Amanda Palmer / Dolls fans I have met do tend to be a little more forgiving of quirkiness so I knew I would be welcomed by the projecters.

Now I sound like I'm a nutter. I'm not, I'm just painfully shy. Or so I thought...
Turns out I'm still the exhibitionist I was in my youth. The one I thought life had killed off with it's drudgery and pressure to conform. When I put the mask on, I was me again. The old me. I stood close to people and stared straight into their eyes. Do you know what I saw? The uncertainty and self conciousness that would normally be mine was theirs. It was a great feeling to have no fear for those few hours, I was almost euphoric.

It made me wonder where my confidence had gone. I used to be able to jump up on stage in front of hundreds of people and entertain them, be silly, sing solo even. When did I lose that ability? I have spent the past 12 years of my life being scared. Scared of not being good enough, of looking stupid, of fucking things up, worrying whether I look fat, concentrating on all that is wrong with me instead of looking around at the world. Everyone has their hang-ups. It's just that most folks don't let it rule their lives.

I will rule my own life from now on.
x

I find myself disliking a whole new set of people this year, and it's not just because I'm an intolerant old bag either - they have brought it on themselves! I have decided to re-do my list, since the year has barely begun. It's a simple one really:

NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS:

1.  Don't give any more of my time or energy to the mad, the drunk and/or the fuckwits.

2.  Stick up for myself more.

3.  Give up men and try women instead.

I reckon this year will be fun!

Well yesterday my oldest cat didn't come home for his meals, which is most out of character. I told the girls to expect the worst and that he may be dead somewhere. This morning we lauched a search and recovery of his body and just as we were giving up.....
....Small came hobbling from under a hedge with a bramble wrapped around his waist. Poor little bugger must have been trapped somewhere all day and night.
So from now on we are keeping him indoors, he is nearly 119 in cat years afterall! Welcome back old friend!

So I thought I should.

Yesterday my middle girl went to a party. It was one of those makeover parties where they put as much crap on your kids faces as possible.

This particular one was at a place called Funk-it, or as Chloe innocently asked "Is it fuck it or funk it?" - met by my jaw hitting the floor and me trying to explain that the former was a bad word and should not be used. ('but mummy, you said it when you fell down the stairs that time.....')

That being said, I nearly said the F word when I saw her.

Is it just me or did they make her look like she had been beaten up?

 

Chloe, you are beautiful but that is not a good look!