Smell the flowers while you can

I take certain things for granted. That as soon as term ends I'll be on a plane to somewhere warmer; that I cannot ever tell what mood year 11 will be in; that when I go to sleep, that I will wake up.

However, on Friday night one of my friends went to sleep and she will never wake up. Aged just 38, with a little baby and a young son she just died in her sleep. She wasn't ill, there was no warning. It is utterly confusing. Her Facebook page is filling up with shocked eulogies saying what an amazing person she was. And she was.

It's at times like this that you take stock. You kiss your child fiercely. You look at old photos. And you look forward. On Saturday I met my ex husband's girlfriend and I was really friendly to her. I bear her no grudges and I have to admit she did me a favour. Maybe a year ago that first meeting would have been more fraught but now I know that life is going on for all of us. And, for me, life is far better now I am single. Today, I am going to smell the flowers whilst I can.

This song is a eulogy for Julie. Bless you.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xnXQS6oetQk&feature=fvst

History is not over

Hello, remember me? Single mother. Obsessive. Spends inordinate amounts of time online. Used to have a husband, now has an ex-husband and a boyfriend. Nice to see you again.

I was prompted into action by anonymous who asked, perfectly reasonably, whether this blog had ended. Mainly, I suspect, because I haven't written anything for nearly 6 weeks. I'm hoping the answer to that question is no, because I am immensely fond of this blog and like showing off. There are many reasons why I haven't written much recently: I have been busy with an actual human being on many evenings when otherwise I would be home alone loafing about the net, I have had a promotion at work and have been doing actual work, I had the dreaded school inspectors in a couple of weeks ago and I got an iPhone. Now that I have my iPhone I have very little reason to ever fire up my laptop as I can satiate my net addiction with virtually no effort and that gorgeous slidy interface makes typing seem, well, clunky.

But I think there's another reason that I haven't been blogging. And it's that I have something precious with my boyfriend that I worry about analysing. I don't really want him to see our relationship held up to the internet's light and checked for holes and stains. I enjoy the sense of being a new person with him and try not to allow to much of my previous life to sully that. I learnt the hard way with my ex about the dangers of being too upfront about one's past. I think the 'more than Princess Diana, fewer than Madonna' answer is the way to go. Forever my ex was haunted by the spectres of other men who, in his perception, I compared him to. I didn't. Well, not much. Ok, not every day. All right, I did.

And I do compare my new boyfriend to my ex. There are some similarities: I think people have a type, even if it's unconscious. For example, the first time we woke up together I had a jolt when I looked across and saw my ex-husband's tattoo - they both have the same football club tattooed in the same way on the same shoulder. There are differences: my boyfriend is taller than me and, whilst I didn't acknowledge it, I was self-conscious about being taller than my ex-husband. My boyfriend is part of a huge group of friends and my ex wasn't (this should have been a warning sign...) My boyfriend and I are about the same level of personal attractiveness and according to psychologists this is an important factor in human attraction. Finally, this time I've met someone secure and well-balanced and uncomplicated. And when you've got that you don't want to complicate matters by bleating on about it online.

Whoops, too late.

Honesty and Policy

Hello dear readers, you may have felt it possible that I fell off the edge of the planet over the past month and that is why silence has reigned but the simple reason was I fell in love.

Now, at some point in early July I kept remembering Dorothy Parker's words: 'I shudder at the sight of men / I'm sure to fall in love again'. This is exactly what happened to me. I decided to remain a little crystalline single girl and then I went on a date and he kissed me. And at that moment I knew the game was up and I'd fall for him harder than one of those Sudoku quiz thingies on the back of the Guardian.

I am, quite simply, perfectly happy at the moment.

And so now I hit the quandary. I'm really proud of this blog and my writing. But there's darkness here and echoes of how hard the road had been over the past 18 months. I don't want anything to sully just how wonderful it is to be a semi-new person with a wholly new person. Half of me wants to tell him the address of this blog so he can hear my inner voice and experience this part of me and the other, selfish, part wants to keep it private so that none of the darkness here seeps out and stains my beautiful glowing present. I think of my soul as predominantly my writing voice so keeping it hidden seems somehow mendacious. And I'm an honest and upfront and upright person.

Tread softly, for you tread on my dreams.

A poem what I wrote

Escalator, without dog

Everywhere there are too many
rules.
Dogs must be carried on the escalator.
But what,
I think,
Do I do?
I don't have a dog:
Must I use the stairs?

You must not chew or
spit or heavy pet
Divebombing is out
Luggage must be attended.
No entry. No U-turns.
This way only.

And then there are the other rules -
Unsigned, unlaminated
But coldly enforced.
Not too fast, not yet
Not on the first date.
Not if she's older
Not if he's younger
Be careful, be prudent
Wait a month at least.

Well I don't have a dog to carry on the escalator.
Unleashed
I choose my own rules
My own timescales

And, to be honest,
Fate rules me

First the promotion, now....

Ok, I've discovered that saying you don't want a promotion and that being single is perfect with you will result in two things: getting your perfect job and meeting a lovely boy. I am, I think, in the process of becoming un-single, even though it's only been a week. The reason I think this is that I'm writing poems again.

Wikipedia needs to redefine 'romance'

Romance is not this:
a smouldering glance
a smoochy dance
Not even a meeting by chance
It certainly lies not in
frantical removal of pants

It is truly this:
two snatched kisses from
a boy delivering cola bottles
to a girl dressed in hot pants

Sometimes suddenly in summer...

The sun shines and even the rain isn't such a problem.
You sit and talk and talk and talk until the early hours of the morning.
There's a smile on your lips and a faraway look in your eyes.
Songs have far greater significance and you listen to the same album endlessly.
02 are going to be very happy about your mobile bill.
You delete pointless numbers from your handset.
Someone kisses you the way you kiss them.

Sometimes suddenly in summer.

Dresses and Successes

Bare legs used to frighten me. I was always a girl who wore tights or trousers. But this week the ridiculous temperatures in my classroom lured me into a linen dress and wedge sandals. And, man, what a reaction. I must have been told by about 25 people that I looked lovely in the dress; my favourite comments being 'Miss, you look hot' from a Sixth form girl to the female head of HR at work pointing out that if she had legs like mine she'd show them off too. It was immensely gratifying and enjoyable. On Friday my ex hesitantly asked if he could comment that I looked pretty these days. Well, of course. All people would rather be told that they look good, wouldn't they?

This dress book-ended a bit of suit wearing on Wednesday. I had an interview for a promotion for a job at work. After saying a few weeks ago that I'd decided not to chase promotion my perfect job came up and I was persuaded to apply for it. And, you know what? I got it too. The feedback from my interview made me glow with pride. From September I'll be Queenie and I'm looking forward to it.

Over this weekend my actual baby sister and our adopted baby sister came to visit me. I wore a hot dress on the night out and was amazingly successful as I did all the things I set out to do. Have a girlie night. Do a Cinderella and stop drinking by midnight. And I managed it all. I had a really wonderful night.

And finally, today I went across to Manchester to act as god-mother to my friend's baby. I managed to be early for the service (thanking heaven for sat nav) and having a lovely, lovely time with her friends and family at the party afterwards. It was a total honour to be asked to be god-mother and to be part of their day.

So, this past week has been a total high. I've had success after success and most of them have been achieved wearing a cute dress. I do believe that you have to change: whether it's as simple as being bare-legged in a summer dress or as major as having a big career change. This week will apparently also be warm. More dresses? Hell yeah. More successes? I can but hope.