Look Bex!!!

...I posted just for you!!

A proper post before the weekend is over. I PROMISE.

The books that made me me

Ooh look. It's me, over on Any Other Woman, being a book geek. Quel surprise.

http://anyotherwoman.com/2013/07/the-books-that-made-me-me/

The anti-mothers day post.

So I'm back from my travels (for now....more on that later) and am beyond shellshocked to be home. Thailand was so beautiful, Cambodia so tragically spectacular and Laos just blew. my. mind.

I may even share some photos at some point (I know, revolutionary!) but for now I have something else to say.

Mother's Day.

So it's 15 and a half months since I lost my beloved mum. My best friend, guide and supporter. The woman who cried when I got my (bad) A level results because she knew I had let myself down. The memory of those tears is what kept me going through a year of retakes, 5 years of medical school and years of postgraduate exams.

She's still the first person I want to tell everything to.

Mother's Day was never a big deal to us when she was alive. I always got her a card, and usually flowers, but we never did those big posh meals out or anything. She's not that kind of person and neither am I.

Now she's not here anymore, I suddenly find it really hard that I don't have anything to plan for Mother's Day. I can easily cry in the card aisle in Sainsburys because I no longer need to buy a pink flowery card (why are they always pink and flowery?) As my inbox fills with spam emails about buying your mum chocolates, jewellery or something from Amazon (yes, those are the kind of online retailers I buy from and hence end up on the mailing lists of- make of that what you will) I hit the 'delete' button with increasing fury.

What I'm really furious about isn't just that I don't have to waste £10 on a tacky card and wilting overpriced flowers. I'm furious because I don't like that retailers are capitalising on something that really, people should do anyway -ie. appreciating your loved ones. Want to buy your mum flowers in September? Do it. Want to take her out for dinner in November? Why not! Why should it just be one day of the year?

And that's the real nub of the issue. I'm angry, really, at myself. I'm angry that I didn't tell and show my mother more that I loved and appreciated her, when I had the chance. I hope she knows.

A quote from one of my favourite films 'Love, Actually', sums this up pretty much perfectly, even though it's actually said by Daniel about his recently-deceased wife:
'Tell her that you love her'....'I never told your mom enough. I should have told her everyday because she was perfect everyday'...

Happy Mother's Day to the mums out there. To those of you who have a mum, call her and tell her you love her. Don't wait til Sunday. Do it now. 

Fast forward

Time, as ever, has got away from me. I have the words inside me, just not the time to get them down on the written page. Not only have I not written about a dozen blog entries from 2012 which are all half-formed in my head, I haven't done the round up of the year I intended (which, to be fair, would have been of interest to no one except me). Nonetheless, I would ask you to bear with me, because I am finally (after what seems like the longest wait in the world) going on my Big Adventure Of A Lifetime (tm) and setting off to Asia to visit Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam. It's a part of the world I've never been and have always wanted to go to -so I have decided to turn 'unemployment' into a Positive Lifestyle Choice by taking this trip.

So, hopefully, I will return re-energised, revitalised and with some much more interesting viewpoints on life than my default 'woe is me'. In the meantime, please wish me few mosquito bites, lots of sunshine and no muggings!

How many warnings does it take...?

So the whole dating thing. I was quite resistant to Internet dating, not because I thought only weirdos and freaks used it (several good friends have met lovely partners via Internet dating) but because in a way I'm quite fatalistic when it comes to dating 'if it's meant to happen and I'm meant to meet someone then it'll happen'. Funny attitude in a way- but the thing is that for me, there's a very fine line between finding dating fun and entertaining, and finding it horrible and stressful ('why hasn't he called? Shall I call? What if he doesn't like me? WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME??!!') I don't like the whole dating game, I've never had to play it before (whenever I've met someone before it's been 'right, I like you, you like me, now we're together'). So I wasn't exactly enthusiastic and my first couple of experiences earlier in the year didn't really endear me to it (one guy who never got in touch again after what I thought was quite a good date, and one guy who was just really, really dull).

But, you know, it's summer and the sun's shining and seeing people walking down the street kissing and holding hands makes you think, 'well, maybe', so I picked the nicest photos of me and psyched myself up...and before I knew it I was chatting to several guys and planning dates, the first one being with an Australian banker, A. His opening line was to ask me which surgery I worked in which in retrospect should have been the first warning...

Fast forward to the day of the date and I woke up to a message saying 'I found you on Facebook and you look lovely. And I can see you must have recently got divorced, I hope you're OK'. This should have been the second warning...

For some foolish reason I still went on the date. God only knows why, I think I felt like giving him the benefit of the doubt- in fact I told him that when we met. I knew straight away I shouldn't have gone when he said to me 'I'm sorry if I freaked you out looking at your photos but you should really be grateful to me for showing you your security settings aren't good enough'. That should have been the third warning...

Eventually he asked me the question I knew he would, 'tell me why your marriage failed- if you don't mind talking about it'. I said 'It's hard for me to talk about, not because I'm still in love with my ex, but because it's inextricably linked with my mum's illness and death which is hard for me'. I started telling the story and got as far as 'and my dad was going into hospital for spinal surgery and my mum was having chemo and so I was moving home for a month to look after them but the night before I left my husband said to me 'I can't do this any more, I'm moving out' ' and he said 'I can't believe it, you were newlyweds... Did you give him lots of sex?' I tried to laugh -assuming he was making a joke, albeit one in very poor taste -and he said, 'No, but seriously...did you?'

Do you know what makes me saddest of all? I have always, always wanted to throw a drink over someone, it's one of my life aspirations (like being chased through an airport as per 'Love Actually') and yet this was the perfect opportunity and I didn't take it.

Any Other Party

So I'm pretty sure I deserve the Bad Blogger Award 2012 (or maybe just the Absent Blogger Award 2012) and worst of all this isn't even a blog post, it's simply a redirect. Last week I (wo)manned up and on Friday night I took myself off to Any Other Party, the fabulous social gathering organised by the girls at Any Other Woman. The only person I'd met before was the gorgeous Gemma and I was beyond nervous about meeting everyone else because I knew they'd all be COOL and FUNNY and SMART. Turns out- yes they were, but somehow I still felt like I belonged. Anna K, in particular, it was a delight to meet. And of course Rebecca.
More about the evening over at Any Other Woman: http://anyotherwoman.com/2012/09/any-other-party-the-london-edition/ that's me in photo number 6, laughing like a loon with Rebecca (no idea what at). Thanks so much ladies!

I hate bad grammar. Too annoyed to even think of a good title.

I've just had to stop reading a post on a blog I normally like because the grammar is so appalling. I'm not going to apologise for being a grammar snob and I'm not going to apologise for the fact that reading the phrase 'would of' makes me cringe.

I spend enough time being angry, frustrated and sad on a daily basis because of what my job exposes me to. Why would I subject myself to it in my free time? True, you might think that with everything else I contend with in life, getting upset at people murdering the English language should not even register on my scale, but what can I say- it really, really does. Some people don't like rudeness (it doesn't bother me, I can give as good as I get). Some people don't like spiders (they don't bother me either). I don't like bad grammar.

Thank you. Rant over. How are you?