...is that you must never, under any circumstances, talk about the book you were supposed to have read. Them's the rules, kid...
Actually, that's not strictly true. Tonight was the third anniversary of our Book Club and I can honestly say that joining was one of the best things I've ever done. Not only have I read things I would never have picked up of my own volition - and enjoyed them - but I have made some truly wonderful friends as a result. Admittedly we don't dissect the book to within an inch of its life or do any of those bizarre "questions for book clubs" you so often find in the back of novels, but we talk a lot, laugh a lot and eat a lot! And we also support each other - tonight's book, for example, was the unedited manuscript of my novel, which while faintly terrifying was actually a really good experience for me: I got invaluable feedback from people I trust and from a diverse background of interests. Whereas your mother is contractually obliged to greet every scrawled offering with "but it's simply wonderful, darling!!!" I knew my Book Club friends would be honest without deliberately hurting my feelings, and they didn't let me down. Ladies, I am eternally grateful to you all; I know it can't have been easy reading 300+ pages of unedited drivel, especially knowing my slightly skewed take on life, and I promise you that should the book ever make it into print form you will be the first people mentioned in the acknowledgements.
Here's to another successful year of Book Club and more stories, more chat, more laughs, more food and more fun. You truly are a wonderful bunch and I'm privileged to know you all!
You know when you have one of those days where you wake up after a bad night's sleep and it's all grey and misty and drizzly and, well, Monday? Yeah, today was *that* day...even with all my "positive mental attitude" insistence today it was not easy to maintain for very long, especially after reading about the horrible trolls on Twitter who thought it would be "funny" (I use the term loosely) to threaten Adele and her new baby boy and by making "jokes" (again, loosely) about horrible things happening to the baby. I wish I was kidding. Some people are just...well, yeah. Let's not go there, eh?
BUT! This blog is not for dwelling on the Negative Nancy's of the world, oh no!! This is my own personal haven of unicorns and rainbows and...ok, let's not go overboard. You might all think there was something wrong with me if I suddenly started all that nonsense, after all, so let's try and at least keep things as real as it's possible for my weird and wonderful brain to allow...so having spent ten minutes of my lunch break getting increasingly irked with said trolls, I decided desperate measures were called for. As always, my answer is "GIG!"
I should explain. Music is generally my go-to "thing" for dealing with my moods or calming me down when the sheer level of stupid in the world has me ready to rip people's heads off, and seeing live music is pretty much the pinnacle of sorting out a full-blown hissy fit (I figure it's that or 25-to-life in Holloway). So since I was pretty much ready to go full-on Vesuvius by 1pm, I thought it was in everyone's best interests if I trotted over to Stargreen to have a quick look-see at who is touring in the next couple of months, either to point and laugh or go "how much?!!" at the ridiculous ticket prices. And there it was. Top of the page. The answer to my poor blood pressure's prayers. February 12th 2013, London - The 69 Eyes. I squealed...
The 69 Eyes are one of my "weird" Finnish bands, as Certain People insist on calling them, but I absolutely adore them. The lead singer, Jyrki, has a voice that just sends shivers down my spine; I don't find him particularly attractive but when he sings...dear God, it does things to a girl, I'm telling you. I first discovered them back in 2004, when I first got into Nightwish and was all "what-other-amazing-bands-does-Finland-have-ohmigod-tell-me-NAOW!!!" about it; thatnks to the wonders of t'internet I came across all kinds of bands, some of which have stuck with me ever since (Apocalyptica, Turisas), others which, um, haven't. But 69 Eyes were definite stickers; not only were they waaaaaaay goth, which appealed to my kookiness back then, but they did a song called Brandon Lee and then there was that voice!!! Now I never in a million years thought I'd see them in the UK - mainly because I go "69 Eyes!!" and the rest of the country goes "eh?" - but lo and behold, to the UK they come. In February. And I'm going. Not only is it cheap, it's too good a chance to pass up. So I will get my Goth on and go... :D And I really, really hope they play this song, because it's the first one of theirs I ever heard and I love it.
Wow, did I really just quote the Spice Girls in a blog title? That's a bit...scary. But actually the Spicies were right - all you need IS positivity...well, I guess you need love too, but that's quoting the Beatles and would totally ruin my analogy-thing so we won't go there. My blog, my rules... :p
I've been thinking a lot about positivity over the past few months. I try hard not to be negative about things in my day-to-day existence - I think it stems from having depression as a teenager and never wanting to go back to that horrible spiral - but there are times when I find myself channelling the negative energy instead of the positive, whether that's internalised ("oh my god, I hate my nose/boobs/whatever!") or externalised ("more war/death/tragedy in the world - the news is so terrible!!") I know I'm not the only one who has days like this; it seems to be inbuilt into the human species to be almost entirely negative, critical and downbeat about things. Or maybe that's just us Brits, where our pessimism is as synonymous with our fair island as our rain...Either way, there are times when I get heartily sick of the rest of the world, both in cyberspace and in Real Life, for its constant Bad Attitude towards both things and people. My granny always used to say if you can't say anything nice to people then don't say anything at all; in this, as in so many other ways, my grandmother has proved to be a Wise Woman. It's why I can't understand the mentality of people who (to use an example drawn from recent RL) would go onto the blog of the former Nightwish singer and read it, only to go onto the Nightwish forum and then moan about how said blog is "childish", "trivial" and "pointless". If it's that bad, in your humble opinion, then why read it?!! No one's holding a gun to your head and saying "you must read this every single day or else!"; if it isn't your particular cup of tea, just ignore it. And stop carping about it and trying to bring others down!
The thread for this recent focus on positivity, however, stems from the reaction to the Paralympic Games in London this summer. The Olympics, after traditional pessimistic British moaning, proved to be an utterly rip-roaring success but it was the perhaps somewhat surprising response of the country - and the rest of the world - to the Paralympics which really struck a chord with me. Sydney in 2000 was probably the first time the Paras got given the same attention as the Olympic Games, but it was the London Games which really set the Paralympic movement alight and I for one could not be happier about it. So many of the athletes commented on the positive way the Games were received by the British public, who roared on athletes from all over the world at a variety of events; so many of them also commented on the positive way people in Britain view disability in general which, given the current focus of our Government on welfare reform and the disability living allowance in particular, seemed particularly pertinent at the time. But the one thing I really loved about the Paras, apart from the utterly astonishing sport we got to see, was the way the public responded. If an athlete did well they were lauded as the phenomenal sportspeople they were, with no patronising comments along the lines of "well, s/he did so well, considering s/he has no legs/arms/whatever". And if an athlete performed "under par" they were subjected to the same scrutiny Wayne Rooney would receive after a particularly bad game for Manchester United. There was no allowance made for the athletes disability; when Oscar Pistorius made a rather uncharacteristic outburst after being beaten in the 200m final, he was treated by both the press and the public as any other sportsperson would be treated - with surprise, disappointment and, in some cases, downright fury.
The 2012 Paralympic Games provided some of the most inspirational moments I have ever seen. It also allowed us to celebrate diversity and difference while realising that, actually, there aren't that many differences between us after all. And what really inspired and moved me - what still does move me - is the hugely uplifting positive attitude shown by both competitors,public and journalists alike. Channel 4 cleared their schedules for the coverage of the Games after two days; if you'd told me that in the run-up to the 2012 Games, I'd have laughed in your face. But everyone was so overwhelmingly positive it became all but impossible to not become emotional about the Paras; to not cheer for an athlete from some far-flung land because they were providing us with some of the most amazing sport this country has ever seen. It was absolutely, jaw-droppingly positive and I don't think Britain has ever experienced anything like it.
The last word on this has to go to one of my personal heroes, Oscar Pistorius. Now I know there are people who will say "any old excuse - she fancies him rotten!" which is true, but besides fancying him rotten I have a huge amount of respect not just for him as an athlete but as a person, and a massive part of that is the way he was raised. His parents never made "allowances" for his disability; he was never "coddled" or singled out and told "you can't do that because of your disability", and it was the likes of Oscar and the other hugely-talented sportsmen and -women at the London 2012 Paralympic Games who stood up and told the world "yes you can."
Whenever I have days where I doubt myself or grow tired of the negativity I think about Oscar, or Johnnie Peacock, or David Weir and Hannah Cockcroft, and I suddenly realise that, actually, there is an awful lot of positive energy out there after all...
Well, it's been a while. Far too long, in fact, hence why I've decided I'm going to start this whole 'blog' thing again - I got so embarrassed at the gaps in my last blog I couldn't bring myself to just carry on with it, so decided it was best to start again with a clean slate. Well, as clean a slate as little old me can manage... :p
So, here we are, then. Shiny new blog, same old lunatic meanderings. Herein will lie the personal, the political, the angsty, the musical, the randomness and the sunshine. I fully intend to make this blog as positive as possible, even in the political rantings which are bound to pop up at some point. There's far too much negativity around at the moment, both on the internet and in Real Life, so I want to spread the love...
In the words of Bill S. Preston, Esquire and Ted Theodore Logan - Be Excellent To Each Other And Party On, Dudes. A philosophy to which more people should subscribe, methinks.
