Fuzzy Logic

Over the past couple of weeks I've kept thinking that I ought to do a blog-birthday post as I Miss 1985 was a year old on the 19th December and the main subject-matter of this blog (my marriage splitting up) dates back to the 30th December 2007. But I haven't really got round to writing those posts because those dates don't have the resonance I thought they would.

Humans have an odd tendency to see patterns. Give us a load of random ink-blots and we'll see a Toulouse Lautrec painting forming in front of us. We have 'lucky' pants (well, I don't. No, really, I don't). We believe that things will go wrong on Friday 13th. For me, my random pattern belief is that how my New Year's Eve goes will predestine how the following year will be.

Last New Year's Eve was dreadful. I drove back from the south coast on the 30th and rang my ex from some services on the M1. Instead of a cheery hello I got told that he'd cancelled our plans because things were going to be 'horrible'. I had absolutely NO warning that this was about to occur. And, Lord, was it horrible. New Year's Eve 2007 was spent with me crying hysterically whilst he said the cruelest things. He then disappeared off to go out with 'friends' (read 'new girlfriend') whilst I sobbed myself to sleep to the backdrop of fireworks exploding and people cheering. It was appalling.

So, if my random pattern belief is true then 2008 should have been equally as horrendous. I do have to say January and February were. But then things changed. I sorted my house out and although feng shui is another human random pattern belief it is a much more pleasant place to live. I made new friends. I went on lots and lots of holidays (three to Portugal and two to France). I rediscovered the wonders of having a social life. I ate lots of curry. I finally organised a reunion with my University friends. I watched my son cope with the breakup of his parents' marriage with aplomb. I wrote this blog and am endlessly touched that on average one hundred people read it a week. It was, if I dare say it, a good year.

So, despite proving to myself that random patterns are just that, I'm still trying to be a Delphic oracle and discern what 2009 might have in store. 'Louise' told me that 2009 will be 'my year'. Yesterday I went to see 'Peter Pan' at the theatre and left thinking that 2009 might well be an 'awfully big adventure'. I've got plans for tonight which involve my best friend and food - always a good combo.

So, I'm wishing you, and myself, a happier new year. xxx

A Christmas (Ad) verse

Some of the very best things in life come through fire: gold is refined and melted by forge fire; chestnuts roast on an open fire; the Australian outback requires regular bush fires to regenerate and some of the best St Andrews beach parties ('89 - '93) were heated by stolen pallet fires. I've been through the fire this year and I've come out regenerated, stronger and ready to party.

On Friday night it was my school's Christmas do. Times have been hard in recent months and it was a great opportunity for the staff to enjoy some good cheer together. Instead, of over 170 staff there were a grand total of 32 revellers. For most, adversity had got the better of them and they couldn't be arsed to attend. Those of us who attended could have had a rubbish time and moaned about it afterwards. Instead we took the opportunity to have a better time. Wholly faked photos of us sliding down bannisters were taken to display in the staffroom. My friends and I took advantage of a yawningly empty dancefloor to express ourselves dramatically through the medium of Dance. Afterwards, we zoomed into town to dance and be merry even more - the dancefloor in the club was empty and so my friends and I did even more expressive dancing (particularly after the liberal application of Jagerbombs...). I discovered that wearing black fishnet tights and an LBD can result in random early-20s males pulling up their t-shirts to display their taut torsos. Hurrah. It was a bloody marvellous night.

And then on Saturday night Alexandra Burke won X-Factor after being rejected three years' ago. More proof that great things can come from adversity. One of the things that chimed the most with me was Cheryl saying that they were more than mentor and act: they were friends. And that's what got me through this year: my friends. I never went to the staff Christmas do in years gone by because my ex inevitably had something planned and I had to stay home to look after our son. But there was another reason - I didn't feel like I had many friends because the problems in my marriage made me completely isolated from people and I avoided making friends as it was too difficult to maintain my two faces.

This year has been a time of making and relying on friends and I'd like to do some call outs and thanks on the pages of this blog, as I know that those friends read this:

1. First place has to go to Velouria. Curry night was the greatest invention of 2008. Throughout the year Velouria has been a steadfast trooper with a truly outstanding ability to come up with a finely crafted expletive. She rocks.
2. Next is 'anonymous', aka 'my little sister'. She combines a rare ability to care about people without being soppy. A fine trait.
3. Travelling together, as they always do, are the East Leeds Massive. One of the Leedz 15 Girlz (Louise to my Thelma) is following a similar path to me and has been a great support. They're both foul-mouthed in the most glorious manner possible. I've never been told to 'fuck off' in a more tender and caring manner...
4. Lpa, without whom my bunkbeds would be sadly empty after a night out. Without her many of the nights out would have been impossible and she's the reason why I feel like I'm in my mid-20s rather than my late 30s
5. Highwaylass, an inspirational blogger and late night Skype pal, her highway has run parallel to mine over the year and she's given me some excellent journey planning advice along the way
6. The friends I've been blessed with for years: the ones I saw in Ingleton in October. Most people don't stay in touch with University pals for 19 days after Graduation, I've known you all for nineteen years and I love you more now than I did when I was a self-obsessed twenty-year-old.
7. 'Exiled to Aidans' - she tells me off. A lot. And I always richly deserve and appreciate it.
8. The 'rents. They've stopped being parents and started being friends.
9. My son. He doesn't read this. Thank God.
10. My ex, if he hadn't dumped me I wouldn't have a life. He doesn't read this either. Thank God.

God bless you, one and all. xxx

Two-faced, me?

Lots of things are proving to me that I'm two-faced. I don't mean that I spend my whole life air-kissing past people's cheeks one moment and then turning to slag off the size of their arse the next. No, I'm learning that I have two faces and they look in very different directions.

Most women have these two faces but I'm not sure that we are conscious of it. The first is the face our friends see. Women are most the person they are, deep down, when they're with their friends. The other face is the one the person we're in a relationship sees: it looks identical but it's very different. Because this face represents the person that we've become in THAT relationship. Sometimes women are almost the same person with their friends that they are with their partner, and I reckon these are the happiest couples. At the other extreme there are two entirely different faces because you have to change your expression dramatically to cope with the relationship you're in. I barely saw my friends with my ex as it was impossible to maintain these two masks at once. The scrutiny of publicity made it clear that what was on show wasn't a face, it was a facade.

Last night my real face was on show because old friends came over. Ironically two of my bridesmaids were at my house whilst my ex's best man was at his flat. I know what face my ex showed: it's always the same. Me? Well, there was no facade and a huge beam all over my face. I'm not in a relationship right now and you know what? I'm enjoying not being two-faced.