It’s All About Me…


I posted this tweet this morning:image

I do realise that I spend a fair bit of time complaining about how I look.

Something struck me today as I was out on my enforced trip to town.

I saw other women of all shapes and sizes, smaller and thinner than me and larger and heavier than me.

I saw several larger ladies and thought, “wow! She looks amazing/her curves are fab/she looks so confident”, and then thought, “why can’t I be happy with my body like they are?”

Yes, yes, I know there is every chance they go home and cry when they look in the mirror, just as I do, but the point is that I thought they looked fantastic and confident in themselves.

I also realised that I have several friends on twitter and WP that are also larger than me, who I think are totally gorgeous. I can think of so many women who post nude or semi nude photos that I admire on Sinful Sunday or on their TLs and I thought, “Fuck! They must read me and think that I am a total bitch!”

So I must make one thing clear… when I rant about not being the size or shape I want to be, I am in no way suggesting that being larger, heavier, (or thinner for that matter), is not desirable or is in any way “less than”. When I write these things it really is all about me!

My bestie lost it with me last week when I made a disparaging remark about how I look, (I said I wasn’t going to an event I had wanted to attend because I am too fat now).

She is gorgeous, sexy and beautiful and yes, she is bigger than me. She totally hit me with both barrels about how pointless it is for me to constantly run my self down and to deny myself things because of how I perceive myself to look. Her anger and disappointment leaped off the screen and I withdrew for the day, unable to face her. (We are perfectly ok now btw… she was really just trying to make me see things differently but I couldn’t hear it.)

When I think that any of my friends on twitter or in the blogosphere might feel the same disappointment and annoyance at me for what I write, or that they might think I am in some way running them down alongside running myself down, it makes me feel dreadful! Truly shitty.

I felt the need to write this today to say that the stupid standards I set for myself are not in any way a reflection of how I see other women.

I realise 100% how incredibly fucked up my attitude is and how warped my thinking is. I envy any woman who feels comfortable in her own skin. If there were a pill I could take to achieve the same feeling, I would take it in a heartbeat. Hell, I’d overdose!

The truth is I have never been happy with how I look. When I was wearing age 10-11 jeans, (yes age, not size), and was so underweight my periods stopped I still thought I looked awful and even ‘saw’ a belly where there was actually a concave dip.

For the record, I have a problem with me, not with anyone else. If anyone reading my rants about my body shape and size ever thinks I am attacking or insulting anyone other than myself, please know that I am not.

It really is all about me…

💋

Copyright, 2016, k1kat.com

All rights reserved.

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Word For Wednesday (W4W) #60


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This week’s word is:

Family.

Didn’t Phil know what he was talking about? Never has there been a truer poem in the history of all poetry! IMHO!

I also second my mate Leo’s take on family…

quote-happy-families-are-all-alike-every-unhappy-family-is-unhappy-in-its-own-way-leo-tolstoy-287777

When we were younger, my sister and I used to lament the fact that our family was so unlike the Cosby Show, who seemed to personify all things ideal when it came to family life. (Given recent revelations, I have reconsidered Dr. Huxtable’s appeal as a father figure…)

A clear early family memory came back to me last week, whilst watching Stewart Lee’s excellent Comedy Vehicle on BBC, on the topic of Death. He spoke about how the first time a child encounters death is often the demise of a beloved family pet and it triggered this recollection for me –

I am not sure how old I was, I would hazard a guess at between 4-6 and my father, a plasterer by trade, came home from work one day with a round Blue Ribband margarine tub in his hands, saying he had a surprise for me. I was excited. He opened the tub and inside was the tiniest, cutest little mouse, (perhaps a wee baby or a door-mouse, I am not sure). Thinking he was giving me a pet, I clapped my hands and positively jumped for joy, delighted.

Was I wrong????

He had actually brought it home as a toy for our two Jack Russell Terriers to ‘play with’ and was simply  letting me have a look before setting the poor doomed creature free into our back yard.

Cruel? Twisted? Sick?

Obviously this little mouse was not a beloved family pet, but for a few joyous minutes I thought s/he might be.

Add to the story the fact that my mother was standing next to me, cooking dinner. She had a terrible phobia of mice and I remember her saying his name and pleading with him to take the creature away from her.

I have no clue why I chose to share this story today… it’s bleak, dark and downright fucking weird!

But hey… today my family is the OH and my two furry little girls, who love me more than I could ever have hoped for, along with a collection of nephews and nieces that make my heart sing with joy and love.

Family is what you make it…

💋

Copyright, 2016, k1kat.com

All rights reserved.

Word For Wednesday (W4W) #59


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This week’s word is:

Chaos.

I was having a chat with a pal about how random some words are; why is abbreviation such a long word? why is there an ‘s’ in lisp? I have covered this topic a few times now here, here and here.

I asked the almighty Google to find a word that defines the very strange laws of the English language but it came up dry. Homophone, homonym and homograph are not quite adequate. I think I need a new word that encompasses them all.

To make my point, I challenge you to read the poem below aloud and see how many times you trip! Good luck!

The Chaos (by G. Nolst Trenité, a.k.a. “Charivarius”; 1870 – 1946)

Dearest creature in creation

Studying English pronunciation,

I will teach you in my verse

Sounds like corpse, corps, horse and worse

I will keep you, Susy, busy,

Make your head with heat grow dizzy.

Tear in eye your dress you’ll tear,

So shall I! Oh, hear my prayer,

Pray, console your loving poet,

Make my coat look new, dear, sew it!

Just compare heart, beard and heard,

Dies and diet, lord and word,

Sword and sward, retain and Britain.

(Mind the latter, how it’s written).

Made has not the sound of bade,

Say said, pay-paid, laid, but plaid.

Now I surely will not plague you

With such words as vague and ague,

But be careful how you speak,

Say break, steak, but bleak and streak.

Previous, precious, fuchsia, via,

Pipe, snipe, recipe and choir,

Cloven, oven, how and low,

Script, receipt, shoe, poem, toe.

Hear me say, devoid of trickery:

Daughter, laughter and Terpsichore,

Typhoid, measles, topsails, aisles.

Exiles, similes, reviles.

Wholly, holly, signal, signing.

Thames, examining, combining

Scholar, vicar, and cigar,

Solar, mica, war, and far.

From “desire”: desirable–admirable from “admire.”

Lumber, plumber, bier, but brier.

Chatham, brougham, renown, but known.

Knowledge, done, but gone and tone,

One, anemone. Balmoral.

Kitchen, lichen, laundry, laurel,

Gertrude, German, wind, and mind.

Scene, Melpomene, mankind,

Tortoise, turquoise, chamois-leather,

Reading, reading, heathen, heather.

This phonetic labyrinth

Gives moss, gross, brook, brooch, ninth, plinth.

Billet does not end like ballet;

Bouquet, wallet, mallet, chalet;

Blood and flood are not like food,

Nor is mould like should and would.

Banquet is not nearly parquet,

Which is said to rime with “darky.”

Viscous, Viscount, load, and broad.

Toward, to forward, to reward.

And your pronunciation’s O.K.,

When you say correctly: croquet.

Rounded, wounded, grieve, and sieve,

Friend and fiend, alive, and live,

Liberty, library, heave, and heaven,

Rachel, ache, moustache, eleven,

We say hallowed, but allowed,

People, leopard, towed, but vowed.

Mark the difference, moreover,

Between mover, plover, Dover,

Leeches, breeches, wise, precise,

Chalice, but police, and lice.

Camel, constable, unstable,

Principle, disciple, label,

Petal, penal, and canal,

Wait, surmise, plait, promise, pal.

Suit, suite, ruin, circuit, conduit,

Rime with “shirk it” and “beyond it.”

But it is not hard to tell,

Why it’s pall, mall, but Pall Mall.

Muscle, muscular, gaol, iron,

Timber, climber, bullion, lion,

Worm and storm, chaise, chaos, and chair,

Senator, spectator, mayor,

Ivy, privy, famous, clamour

And enamour rime with hammer.

Pussy, hussy, and possess,

Desert, but dessert, address.

Golf, wolf, countenance, lieutenants.

Hoist, in lieu of flags, left pennants.

River, rival, tomb, bomb, comb,

Doll and roll and some and home.

Stranger does not rime with anger.

Neither does devour with clangour.

Soul, but foul and gaunt but aunt.

Font, front, won’t, want, grand, and grant.

Shoes, goes, does.

Now first say: finger.

And then: singer, ginger, linger,

Real, zeal, mauve, gauze, and gauge,

Marriage, foliage, mirage, age.

Query does not rime with very,

Nor does fury sound like bury.

Dost, lost, post; and doth, cloth, loth;

Job, Job; blossom, bosom, oath.

Though the difference seems little,

We say actual, but victual.

Seat, sweat; chaste, caste.;

Leigh, eight, height;

Put, nut; granite, and unite.

Reefer does not rime with deafer,

Feoffer does, and zephyr, heifer.

Dull, bull, Geoffrey, George, ate, late,

Hint, pint, Senate, but sedate.

Scenic, Arabic, Pacific,

Science, conscience, scientific,

Tour, but our and succour, four,

Gas, alas, and Arkansas.

Sea, idea, guinea, area,

Psalm, Maria, but malaria,

Youth, south, southern, cleanse and clean,

Doctrine, turpentine, marine.

Compare alien with Italian,

Dandelion with battalion.

Sally with ally, yea, ye,

Eye, I, ay, aye, whey, key, quay.

Say aver, but ever, fever.

Neither, leisure, skein, receiver.

Never guess–it is not safe:

We say calves, valves, half, but Ralph.

Heron, granary, canary,

Crevice and device, and eyrie,

Face but preface, but efface,

Phlegm, phlegmatic, ass, glass, bass.

Large, but target, gin, give, verging,

Ought, out, joust, and scour, but scourging,

Ear but earn, and wear and bear

Do not rime with here, but ere.

Seven is right, but so is even,

Hyphen, roughen, nephew, Stephen,

Monkey, donkey, clerk, and jerk,

Asp, grasp, wasp, and cork and work.

Pronunciation–think of psyche–!

Is a paling, stout and spikey,

Won’t it make you lose your wits,

Writing “groats” and saying “grits”?

It’s a dark abyss or tunnel,

Strewn with stones, like rowlock, gunwale,

Islington and Isle of Wight,

Housewife, verdict, and indict!

Don’t you think so, reader, rather,

Saying lather, bather, father?

Finally: which rimes with “enough”

Though, through, plough, cough, hough, or tough?

Hiccough has the sound of “cup.”

My advice is

Give it up!

Out of breath yet?!

Ciao!

💋

Copyright, 2016, k1kat.com

All rights reserved.

 

Word for Wednesday (W4W) #58


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This week’s word is:

Mask

As is the case with many people who live with depression, I wear a mask.
Unless I choose to let you see what’s happening inside, you could chat to me all day and never have a clue of the turmoil and despair that lies beneath my smile.

Today I am sitting the hair salon waiting for my stylist, (following strict instructions from the OH to get out of the house and be good to myself – I wanted to simply buy a box of hair colour from Tesco), and am dreading having to make small talk.

I am dreading having to plaster on a smile and pretend to be ‘normal’.

Today I do not feel I have the energy to wear my mask.

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Ciao!

💋

Copyright, 2016, k1kat.com

All rights reserved.

 

Gratitude


I am aware that my blogs appeal to quite different audiences, but I cannot decide where today’s entry should live… so I am posting it to both blogs.


The OH left for work this morning very tired and not in the best of health. But he went in to his office with a smile and hugs and kisses for the girls and myself.

His job is incredibly demanding and very, very stressful, (hence the recurrent bad health). He works with people who, and I am being generous when I say this, are less than cooperative and pleasant to be around. He works tirelessly every day, with very little recognition or support, and comes home to us three loony girls and whatever chaos is waiting for him here.

He is never too busy for us. His motto in life is, and has been since the day I met him, “there is always time for a hug”. I know, without doubt, that I am his top priority. I can call on him anytime for anything and he will deliver. Yes, I scold him for spending too much time playing games on his phone, but when the shit hits the fan he is there. Always.

I truly think I got the better end of the deal in this relationship. I have no idea how he puts up with me. He endures my endless chatter, my anxieties, my depressive dark thoughts, my hormonal moods. He laughs with me when I am silly and playful, he joins in singing in the car, he dances with me in the kitchen. He is generous, with his time and with material things. He is kind, funny and, (*although he does get it wrong sometimes), he always does his best.

I never feel I do enough to support him or show him how much he means to me. I do my best to make sure he comes home to a loving and happy home. When we hear him come in through the door every evening the girls and I literally run to greet him and I love to see how happy that makes him.

I take care of all the domestic tasks so that once he gets home he can relax and unwind, (ok, ok, he does take care of the bins!). I listen when he has a gripe or dilemma about work and try to help him work it out. I take great pride and pleasure in cooking his meals, making sure his shirts are washed and ironed, making good healthy lunches for him to take into work. It feels the very least I can do.

And yet I do not think I do enough. How can I?

As well as working so hard to keep us fed, watered and sheltered, he relieves me of the burden of things I find too stressful to deal with. He takes care of all the nasty financial jobs such as finding the best deals in insurance, utilities and general admin. I take an incredibly ‘ostrich with her head in the sand’ approach to such matters. I can hear my feminist sisters screaming at me now that I need to be more in control of these things. I know that if anything happened to him I would be very vulnerable and quite helpless. He is the grown up and I am the silly kid.

I felt the need to write this today to let him know that each and every little thing he does for me and our family is appreciated. I wanted to tell him, very publicly, how much I love him and how grateful I am to have met him all those years ago.

For the record, (and before you all throw up as a result of my sentimentality today), we have not always been happy. We had some very difficult times, and there were even points where we weren’t sure we would make it. But at the end of the day, neither of us could imagine life without our best friend.

I believe in soul mates… why? Because I met mine 25 years ago.

💋

Copyright, 2016, k1kat.com

All rights reserved.

*randomly pointing out that Lily has a shorter life expectancy than me, causing me to tear up was not your best moment babe…

Word For Wednesday (W4W) #57


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This week’s word is:

Pedant.

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Uh… Those fucking people! Drive. Me. Insane.

Seriously? You feel it is THAT important to show off your superior knowledge? Really?

I have no problem with feedback, constructive criticism and debate… hell, I welcome it! But some people seem determined to nit pick simply for the sake of it.

I wonder why?

Is it like a form of OCD or Tourette’s, that they simply cannot help? Maybe, but I suspect it comes from a place of deep seated insecurity or lack of confidence. Why else would a person feel compelled to be so dogmatic as to correct a random fact/piece of grammar/spelling etc.?

It is petty, incredibly anally retentive and, more than anything else, annoying!

I have one thing to say to the pedants of the world…

Ciao!

💋

Copyright, 2016, k1kat.com

All rights reserved.