Back with a vengeance and flying high!

YESSSSSSSSSSSS GET IN THERE!! ABOUT TIME TOO!!!!!!! Those immortal words were spoken by the goddess of cynicism that is Orangina when her beloved Smudger scored this week. It was also an echo of what was to come as suddenly the positivity radiating from Super Al's beaming smile reached out to other aspects of one's life - I suddenly felt almost invincible :0) Good things truly do come to those who wait. It was 2005 the last time he scored a goal.

I wrote a poem today about the last few weeks. I'd felt a bit frustrated, confused and rather angry about my Mum's family and how they were still struggling with grief but bringing another grandchild/child/cousin into the world at the end of this year in trying circumstances involving a Grandad who cannot believe hes still here and his granchild isn't and is as a consequence, to put it mildly, losing it, a mother who is going to be nearer to fifty than forty when her new addition starts school with a husband whose behaviour is questionable and erratic, a daughter who is still suffering the after effects of attempting to take her own life and deal with the fact she no longer has a sister to lean on and confide in when she cannot talk to either of her brothers because of a hatred of men....so naturally I was feeling a bit sad that I had a lot of things that they didnt, namely emotional security, financial security..basic things you take for granted. But suddenly on Tuesday I felt a bright light had shone down on my life in a very bleached, very manic, fishy form(!)
My reaction to Alans goal is quite a funny read. I was absolutely over the moon it was ridiculous!!! :-) My printer has been coughing and spluttering like Dot Cotton for the last couple of days churning out what my father would deem offensive material (no not porn nor even naked stuff, just a bleached bloke with fishgob lips and dracula teeth gurning and fist pumping)

As Alans biggest fan and a Leeds supporter,I'm nothing short of delighted.. his performance reminded me of the Alan that epitomised our Champions League fairytale. He is such a joy to watch and no one deserved such a timely boost to one's confidence as super Smudge. A great character and a fantastic, workaholic footballer. Never ever write this man off. Tonight showed why nothing can stop Alan, boo boys, broken leg horror, controversial cross pennines trip hes faced it all with a cheeky smile, devilish aggression and class. Good on you lad, good on you!! :-)

So here's the poem...

Change is happening fast
Somehow I knew the negativity wouldn't last
Chipped plates, family dischord,
Feeling low and bored,
Swept away in a matter of days
By that man Smithy putting on one of his best displays
Rolling back the years
I was almost in tears
What a goal, what a peach,
With amazing positivity, Trojan attitude you cannot teach
Beaming smile lit up my world once more
I felt alive, energised, encouraged, my jaw almost at the floor...
Storing away long forgotten but deep rich memories of old
Today I was rather bold
Threw tat and random things out teh door
Suddenly a brave new world opened - I was ready to explore!
I will never forget and I couldn't get rid of everything
The photos that caused my heart to go 'ping'
The homemade gifts made by Nat
Some of it now looks worn, dated, maybe a bit tat
But each thing, scrap, book or picture told a story or two
Some of them will be nice to look at and handle when I'm 82!!
The point is today I looked at the past
Treasured it but realised fast
There's no time like now
Attacked the clutter - wow!
Gave more things to charity
I felt so happy, so free
Can see daylight
The fuure's burning bright
I've got on to the next level of my course at Ad. Ed.
Ok my heart's still like lead
For Mr Fishgob
But I know I can do anything so it's not an impossible job! :-)

Am I the April Fool?

Woke up with a massive thumping headache, a bit like the beating of the drum of doom pulsating in my head - I'm just way too cynical and gloomy about the idea of Alan fancying me or even being in love with me. Yet my Mystic Meg aka best friend Janine, is convinced. My family are always mentioning him and dropping hints here and there about their opinions on the situation but the buck stops with me. The idea of a solution to this ongoing problem being go to Hell aka Old Trafford fills me with dread. I whinged moaned and backed myself into a corner on this subject and went round and round until I felt sick, tired and dizzy and finally retreated at 5am so this is why today and the last few days have been a bit cr*p to say the least. I cannot seem to shake of the curse of the blonde bloke. Cannot stop debating, slating, fawning over, falling for, bitching about, blubbing over and procrastinating about Alan. Its getting beyond a joke, it really is.
At least today has been largely constructive. Helped with chores, went up to Nana and Papa's grave, now resplendent with yellow glory - daffodils, dainty garden plants, it looks really cheerful and pretty, unlike my bedhead four-five hr sleep face which looked like the Grim Reaper's long lost sis rolled in with Billie Jo Armstrong from Green Day. Scrubbed cat dishes, made Easter cards to distract myself (as you do) tidied my room, checked emails, read gossip online and generally tried to take it easy. But its really been haunting me all day. Have I got to give it up, this dream of being with Alan? Or should I hold onto whats left of my sanity, fasten my seatbelt tighter and steel myself for a white knuckle ride over rainbow of dreams towards a pot of gold that looks like a blonde guy in a suit and big fishgob lips. What an image I conjured up there..
This afternoon/evening I was mainly helping Mum with RSPCA related chores, sat out int he garden for a couple of minutes stroking Gnasher the gnasherless cat(!) and trying to think of nothing whilst my brain was pushing me consider a random list of 101 things(!!) Got a bit bored and decided to do a Desperate Housewives impression. Plumped for a Bree Van Der Kamp impersonation; peeled the veg, put it all on, prepared the yorkshire pudding batter, veggie sausages and laid the table. Weird way to beat stress I know but it certainly gave me something to focus on.
I also seemed to take pleasure out of deflecting my own misery and turning it into a bitchfest about people, going on about how do my southern cousins cope, dysfunctional families, greed, why I don't agree with older mothers having another kid when theyve already got more than one, usual soapbox, Jeremy Kylesque ranting.. Also I just found out my cousin from Goole's flat will cost a grand to run! She's got a WAG style flat in Chester and she hasn't got a job over there yet only the high flying hi fi shop manager boyfriend and her beloved great granny and gran down the road who will basically take over the role Nana took on as chief petty cash provider and all round sucker. But in fairness, she can be very nice and very sweet, Dean obviously loves her otherwise he wouldn't be committing to a flat knowing hes the sole provider for a while and the grandparents helped her with the downpayment anyway. Shes their only grandchild bar Josh I suppose (hopefully) he'll get the same treatment one day.... Its either going to make or break her, put it that way.
Anyway, gossip/bitchfest over, I think this poem below sums up alot of my feelings just lately. The rest of the day is going to be spent watching Wife Swap (car crash TV of the highest order! yay!) and probably an episode of Jeremy Kyle (chavtastic baby! I think the RSPCA neutering vouchers should extend to some of those rampant pondlife polluting the giant fishtank we call life)

Grumbling on messenger
He hasn't got a girlfriend like duh
Shopping in Meadowhall
Seemingly having a ball
But late that night
It's less than alright
Walking up and down
Feeling like a crap clown
Witty one moment in a text
Fearful and tearful the next
Will he put me out of my misery
People say my chance is clear to see
He's lonely without my presence
Maybe I'm a dunce
I just cannot help but wonder
Fret that someone's stealing my thunder
Where's the mojo
Why feel so low
Easter's coming its a time of joy and change
I'm so strange
Fishgob's driving me round the bend
On whom can I depend?
To get me through this time
Up that lonely crazy hill I climb
I can just about see the top
My heart wants to stop
Who's Samantha?
Claws out ready like a vicious panther
Are they together now
God I'm such a bitchy, paranoid cow
I love him but cannot say the words
I'm not embarrassed to talk about the bees and the birds
Yet I cannot say the right thing
When it comes to the one guy I truly want - I'm out on a limb
So near and yet so far
My lovelife is like a stuttering car
One minute I'm accelerating with joyful speed
The next I'm willing a rotting, annoying, frustrating weed
To grow up into a resplendent tree
What will be will be....