Please see below for explanation of my permanent relationship iSSues... they obviously started early!
HOW DO YOU DECIDE WHO TO MARRY
(1) You got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like
sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep the
chips and dip coming.
- Alan, age 10
(2) No person really decides before they grow up who they're going to
marry. God decides it all way before, and you get to find out later who
you're stuck with.
- Kristen, age 10
WHAT IS THE RIGHT AGE TO GET MARRIED?
(1) Twenty-three is the best age because you know the person FOREVER by then.
- Camille, age 10
(2) No age is good to get married at. You got to be a fool to get married.
- Freddie, age 6 (very wise for his age)
HOW CAN A STRANGER TELL IF TWO PEOPLE ARE MARRIED?
(1) You might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling
at the same kids.
- Derrick, age 8
WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR MOM AND DAD HAVE IN COMMON?
(1) Both don't want any more kids.
- Lori, age 8
WHAT DO MOST PEOPLE DO ON A DATE?
(1) Dates are for having fun, and people should use them to get to know
each other. Even boys have something to say if you listen long enough.
- Lynnette, age 8 (isn't she a treasure)
(2) On the first date, they just tell each other lies and that usually
gets them interested enough to go for a second date.
- Martin, age 10 (Who said boys don't have brains)
WHAT WOULD YOU DO ON A FIRST DATE THAT WAS TURNING SOUR?
(1) I'd run home and play dead. The next day I would call all the
newspapers and make sure they wrote about me in all the dead columns.
-Craig, age 9
WHEN IS IT OKAY TO KISS SOMEONE?
(1) When they're rich.
- Pam, age 7 (I could not have said it better myself)
(2) The law says you have to be eighteen, so I wouldn't want to mess
with that.
- Curt, age 7 (Good Point)
(3 ) The rule goes like this: If you kiss someone, then you should
marry them and have kids with them. It's the right thing to do.
- Howard, age 8 (Who made that rule?)
IS IT BETTER TO BE SINGLE OR MARRIED?
(1 ) I don't know which is better, but I'll tell you one thing. I'm
never going to have s@x with my wife. I don't want to be all grossed
out.
- Theodore, age 8 (Too much detail for his age)
(2 ) It's better for girls to be single but not for boys. Boys need
someone to clean up after them.
- Anita, age 9 (bless you child)
HOW WOULD THE WORLD BE DIFFERENT IF PEOPLE DIDN'T GET MARRIED?
(1 ) There sure would be a lot of kids to explain, wouldn't there?
- Kelvin, age 8
And the #1 Favourite is........
HOW WOULD YOU MAKE A MARRIAGE WORK?
(1 ) Tell your wife that she looks pretty, even if she looks like a
truck.
- Ricky, age 10 (The boy already understands)
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Thwack.....thwack.
There is something satisfying about the resounding thwack of a tennis ball being hit skillfully in the right direction by a tennis racquet. I'm not sure what it is, but I know it's something I never, ever hear on the rare occasion that I've played tennis.
Now, in general, i'm a pretty physically skillful person. I'm not being arrogant, i'm being honest. I'm pretty good at many things, especially sports. However, tennis, and in fact most ball sports, remain somewhat of an enigma to me. The whole hand eye co-ordination thing just doesn't come naturally: I can co-ordinate the hands, and I can co-ordinate the eyes but when it comes to getting them both happening at once, i just cannot get that shit together.
I had tennis lessons in grade 6: it lasted exactly one term. I'm not sure if my tennis teacher or my parents thought that was enough, but it was decided I should stick to what I was good at, staying far away from anything remotely round that flew at great speeds in my direction. Apart from waterpolo (the ball is big, and yellow, and rarely flies at any speed), this is a rule of thumb I have pretty much stuck to ever since. I would love to be one of those people who eventually plays social tennis. Sure, the social part I have downpat, the tennis, no.
I think this is possibly why I enjoy watching the tennis so much. Oddly, it doesn't in any way make me feel inferior. Instead, I sit transfixed in front of the telly each night and all weekend, staring in awe at this immense skill these athletes have, which I for some reason cannot even remotely begin to master. It is quite convenient that the Australian Open falls at this time of year, because it means when I finish work I can go straight home and plonk myself in front of the tv or in bed and stay there for the whole night. I think anybody watching me watching the tennis would probably laugh: I ooh, I aaah, i shout and cheer at the screen. I jump around when I get excited by a close game, and I give much needed and highly valuable tips to whoever happens to be doing the wrong thing at the time: my arm-chair coaching skills are second to none.
Many people I've spoken to in the last couple of weeks have made noises along the lines of "Tennis, oh how boring." To those people: I challenge you to find another game in which almost every game is nail-bitingly exciting, and involves such a high level of skill, over such a long period of time. Each of the grand slams is like a marathon... in fact, longer than a marathon! Many of the 5 set games the guys play go for 3 or 4 hours, and I don't think you'd find many marathon runners doing 4 or 5 or 6 marathons in a two week period... much less doing that four times a year at 18, 20 or 22 years old.
I will forever remain a fan of tennis. In my imagination I am a tennis star, unfortunately for me though, I have a feeling this is where my skill will remain!
Now, in general, i'm a pretty physically skillful person. I'm not being arrogant, i'm being honest. I'm pretty good at many things, especially sports. However, tennis, and in fact most ball sports, remain somewhat of an enigma to me. The whole hand eye co-ordination thing just doesn't come naturally: I can co-ordinate the hands, and I can co-ordinate the eyes but when it comes to getting them both happening at once, i just cannot get that shit together.
I had tennis lessons in grade 6: it lasted exactly one term. I'm not sure if my tennis teacher or my parents thought that was enough, but it was decided I should stick to what I was good at, staying far away from anything remotely round that flew at great speeds in my direction. Apart from waterpolo (the ball is big, and yellow, and rarely flies at any speed), this is a rule of thumb I have pretty much stuck to ever since. I would love to be one of those people who eventually plays social tennis. Sure, the social part I have downpat, the tennis, no.
I think this is possibly why I enjoy watching the tennis so much. Oddly, it doesn't in any way make me feel inferior. Instead, I sit transfixed in front of the telly each night and all weekend, staring in awe at this immense skill these athletes have, which I for some reason cannot even remotely begin to master. It is quite convenient that the Australian Open falls at this time of year, because it means when I finish work I can go straight home and plonk myself in front of the tv or in bed and stay there for the whole night. I think anybody watching me watching the tennis would probably laugh: I ooh, I aaah, i shout and cheer at the screen. I jump around when I get excited by a close game, and I give much needed and highly valuable tips to whoever happens to be doing the wrong thing at the time: my arm-chair coaching skills are second to none.
Many people I've spoken to in the last couple of weeks have made noises along the lines of "Tennis, oh how boring." To those people: I challenge you to find another game in which almost every game is nail-bitingly exciting, and involves such a high level of skill, over such a long period of time. Each of the grand slams is like a marathon... in fact, longer than a marathon! Many of the 5 set games the guys play go for 3 or 4 hours, and I don't think you'd find many marathon runners doing 4 or 5 or 6 marathons in a two week period... much less doing that four times a year at 18, 20 or 22 years old.
I will forever remain a fan of tennis. In my imagination I am a tennis star, unfortunately for me though, I have a feeling this is where my skill will remain!
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Memories of a black line
This morning I visited a very familiar but also very distant place from my past.
Ok, so I'm probably being a little dramatic....I mean, it's not like it's a place from 20 years ago, or even 10 (actually it started about 11 years ago...) and it's not even as though I haven't been there since i stopped going there, if that makes ANY sense (it makes sense in my mind and that's what counts!).
This place is somewhere I know really well, somewhere I spent alot of time until I was about 18, and somewhere I had some of my favourite and most precious memories, for a variety of reasons.
Hands up who's worked out where I'm talking about?
heh heh you were sitting at your own computer with your hand up in the air, weren't you? Ok, so since you endured looking so silly for me, i'm going to tell you what the hell I'm on about.
This morning I got up early (for me) and I went to a pool. I joined a club. I went swimming. With a squad. With a coach and everything. In fact, the pool was MSAC - my old training pool. The club was Vicentre - my old club. The squad was the Swim Advantage squad (basically for triathletes and old people)- NOT my old squad! They train three times a week, and I have decided that for something I used to love so so so so so much, I really don't swim very much any more, and I missed it. So instead of doing what i've done for the last year or so, and going to the pool once or twice a week by myself and doing an easy km or two, that I would put some structure into it. I am now officially going to be "training" (I use this term quite liberally) three times a week, and doing about 3kms at a time...to start with at least!
Today, even though by the end i was embarrassingly wrecked, i absolutely loved every single second of the session. EVERY SINGLE ONE. I loved my first dive in, I loved the fact that I still can't, no matter how tired I am or fast I want to go, leave early in any set. I loved the fact that I still push off every wall in a perfect torpedo, I still don't breathe on the first stroke up or the last stroke into a turn. I love that I still thought about doing perfect turns, and I still counted my strokes when I was doing breaststroke. I still thought about not doing a big dolphin kick at the end of my split stroke, and not letting my feet sink at the end of my breaststroke kick. I love that I made the times for each set, and that I still counted each lap and repeat exactly the same way in my head. I still got annoyed at having to pass people who seem not to notice someone's trying to pass them(!!!!) and I still got annoyed at people who crowd at the end and wouldn't let me finish at the wall on every lap.
No no no, i'm not a perfectionist!
To most of you reading this, almost none of that will make any sense, but that's ok. To those of you who feel the same rush of excitement and enjoyment when you look back on those days, those who so loved that time, and who now appreciate and cherish every little thing it taught you, who remember every second of every race, every medal on the podium, every record, those people might have some idea how I feel right now. I know not everybody loved the sport like did, but that part of my life is, and will remain, one of the most fun-filled, educating, exhausting and exhilarating times of my life.
Remember the time in your life, before it all fell apart, before you got all confused, before you decided to change everything, before you got lazy, and before you stopped caring. Remember when you knew who you were, and everybody else did too. Remember the time when you were doing exactly what you wanted to do, and you were brilliant at it.
About 5 years ago I made what i now think was one of the stupidest decisions of my life. Actually, I made a few of them, all within a few months. They were decisions I had to make, just as the last 5 years was a journey I had to take, but it is only really in the last year or so that I've been able to start to get my head back together and my life back into order. This morning, this feeling, represents a very large piece of that.
Ok, so I'm probably being a little dramatic....I mean, it's not like it's a place from 20 years ago, or even 10 (actually it started about 11 years ago...) and it's not even as though I haven't been there since i stopped going there, if that makes ANY sense (it makes sense in my mind and that's what counts!).
This place is somewhere I know really well, somewhere I spent alot of time until I was about 18, and somewhere I had some of my favourite and most precious memories, for a variety of reasons.
Hands up who's worked out where I'm talking about?
heh heh you were sitting at your own computer with your hand up in the air, weren't you? Ok, so since you endured looking so silly for me, i'm going to tell you what the hell I'm on about.
This morning I got up early (for me) and I went to a pool. I joined a club. I went swimming. With a squad. With a coach and everything. In fact, the pool was MSAC - my old training pool. The club was Vicentre - my old club. The squad was the Swim Advantage squad (basically for triathletes and old people)- NOT my old squad! They train three times a week, and I have decided that for something I used to love so so so so so much, I really don't swim very much any more, and I missed it. So instead of doing what i've done for the last year or so, and going to the pool once or twice a week by myself and doing an easy km or two, that I would put some structure into it. I am now officially going to be "training" (I use this term quite liberally) three times a week, and doing about 3kms at a time...to start with at least!
Today, even though by the end i was embarrassingly wrecked, i absolutely loved every single second of the session. EVERY SINGLE ONE. I loved my first dive in, I loved the fact that I still can't, no matter how tired I am or fast I want to go, leave early in any set. I loved the fact that I still push off every wall in a perfect torpedo, I still don't breathe on the first stroke up or the last stroke into a turn. I love that I still thought about doing perfect turns, and I still counted my strokes when I was doing breaststroke. I still thought about not doing a big dolphin kick at the end of my split stroke, and not letting my feet sink at the end of my breaststroke kick. I love that I made the times for each set, and that I still counted each lap and repeat exactly the same way in my head. I still got annoyed at having to pass people who seem not to notice someone's trying to pass them(!!!!) and I still got annoyed at people who crowd at the end and wouldn't let me finish at the wall on every lap.
No no no, i'm not a perfectionist!
To most of you reading this, almost none of that will make any sense, but that's ok. To those of you who feel the same rush of excitement and enjoyment when you look back on those days, those who so loved that time, and who now appreciate and cherish every little thing it taught you, who remember every second of every race, every medal on the podium, every record, those people might have some idea how I feel right now. I know not everybody loved the sport like did, but that part of my life is, and will remain, one of the most fun-filled, educating, exhausting and exhilarating times of my life.
Remember the time in your life, before it all fell apart, before you got all confused, before you decided to change everything, before you got lazy, and before you stopped caring. Remember when you knew who you were, and everybody else did too. Remember the time when you were doing exactly what you wanted to do, and you were brilliant at it.
About 5 years ago I made what i now think was one of the stupidest decisions of my life. Actually, I made a few of them, all within a few months. They were decisions I had to make, just as the last 5 years was a journey I had to take, but it is only really in the last year or so that I've been able to start to get my head back together and my life back into order. This morning, this feeling, represents a very large piece of that.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Not my choice BUT....
Hmm. probably not my first choice for wedding attire... but each to their own!
Doesn't the warmth and love radiating from this bunch just warms the cockels of your heart?
Doesn't the warmth and love radiating from this bunch just warms the cockels of your heart?
Monday, January 15, 2007
A close friend said...
"A close friend said..." Just how many times do we read that in trashy magazines and newspapers...? Ok, so some of you might not read trashy magazines all that much, but take it from someone who used to alot (not so much any more, but i'm not completely guilt-free!)... A
ccording to these writers, everybody has a close friend who is willing to spill the beans. I hesitate to call these people journalists, because I think the term journalist brings with it some integrity, respect and responsibility or duty to tell the truth and report the facts: these people are simply gossip-mongerers. Now, i know that's their job, but please, read the following statement from today's Age:
Denise Richards and Richie Sambora are, apparently, getting married.
ccording to these writers, everybody has a close friend who is willing to spill the beans. I hesitate to call these people journalists, because I think the term journalist brings with it some integrity, respect and responsibility or duty to tell the truth and report the facts: these people are simply gossip-mongerers. Now, i know that's their job, but please, read the following statement from today's Age:
Denise Richards and Richie Sambora are, apparently, getting married.
"Denise loves Milan so it will probably be there."
Now ponder the following questions:
1) Exactly what possibility do you think there is that this "friend" actually exists?
2) If this "friend" does exist, do you think said friend is actually
- a) the dog-walker's friend's uncle, but they really DO have a close relationship
- b) the cleaner's daughter
- c) Denise's stalker
- d) Charlie Sheen
...Oh thankyou for that pearl of wisdom, oh un-named-but-oh-so-close wise one. We shall hang on your every word in the future.
Ah I guess if I'm actually reading this crap, I shouldn't really be surprised at the results...
Friday, January 12, 2007
On the way out
OK... recent events have led me to seriously consider moving out of home. Now this has happened before, but never before have I actually decided it's a better idea to move out than it is to stay at home.
This is quite disappointing, because as many of you know, we've recently moved into an AWESOME house. My bedroom has become just about my favourite place in the world, and i have absolutely the best wardrobe imaginable (and for you blokes, yes this on its own is reason enough to love a house!).
If I move out, i'll most likely have to leave my beloved puppy at home, and I would miss him terribly. He would also miss me. At about 5 o'clock every afternoon he goes and lies down at the front door waiting for me to come home, and he doesn't eat except when I sit down to eat, or at least look like i'm not going anywhere in a hurry. He comes and sits on the end of my bed when i'm awake, and I'm pretty sure he knows what I'm about to do before I even do it.
I'll miss living with people... knowing that when I get home there's usually going to be someone home, someone who knows me really, really well.
I'll miss having lots of money. I know this sounds silly, but living out of home creates alot more costs than I'm used to paying... Lets face it, $100 a week board is a pretty cruisey deal...
I'll miss teaching on our beautiful piano... I suppose if necessary I probably still could teach at home, but I think i'd probably prefer to be totally gone.
What I'm looking forward to about moving out:
Being able to cook for myself. I'm not a great cook, but I get by, and it means I can decide what I want to eat and when.
Not having to talk to anyone when I don't feel like it.
Not having big fights over nothing.
Playing my music really, really loud.
Not being constantly nagged about doing things.
But the thing I'm most looking forward to, is not just actually feeling like I CAN be independent when necessary, but actually BEING independent. I've had enough of being treated like a child. I've just had enough.
This is quite disappointing, because as many of you know, we've recently moved into an AWESOME house. My bedroom has become just about my favourite place in the world, and i have absolutely the best wardrobe imaginable (and for you blokes, yes this on its own is reason enough to love a house!).
If I move out, i'll most likely have to leave my beloved puppy at home, and I would miss him terribly. He would also miss me. At about 5 o'clock every afternoon he goes and lies down at the front door waiting for me to come home, and he doesn't eat except when I sit down to eat, or at least look like i'm not going anywhere in a hurry. He comes and sits on the end of my bed when i'm awake, and I'm pretty sure he knows what I'm about to do before I even do it.
I'll miss living with people... knowing that when I get home there's usually going to be someone home, someone who knows me really, really well.
I'll miss having lots of money. I know this sounds silly, but living out of home creates alot more costs than I'm used to paying... Lets face it, $100 a week board is a pretty cruisey deal...
I'll miss teaching on our beautiful piano... I suppose if necessary I probably still could teach at home, but I think i'd probably prefer to be totally gone.
What I'm looking forward to about moving out:
Being able to cook for myself. I'm not a great cook, but I get by, and it means I can decide what I want to eat and when.
Not having to talk to anyone when I don't feel like it.
Not having big fights over nothing.
Playing my music really, really loud.
Not being constantly nagged about doing things.
But the thing I'm most looking forward to, is not just actually feeling like I CAN be independent when necessary, but actually BEING independent. I've had enough of being treated like a child. I've just had enough.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
poeme
So i'm kind of doing a writing course... actually i'm doing a communications course, but the subject i'm doing at the moment is creative and professional writing. The other day, I had the most difficult and unenjoyable experience of any writing I've ever done (and i've done a bit...). I had to write a sonnet.
that's right, A SONNET.
Oh COME ON... who actually WRITES SONNETS after 1852? Why would I want to, much less ever NEED to know how to write a sonnet? Iambic pentameter is a very funky sounding term, but one which I hope never to have to use in any context ever again.
Got that? NEVER AGAIN.
Oh right, and did I forget to mention, the sonnet had to be about the weather.
Now, I don't think I have ever submitted (or indeed even written!) something that I honestly thought was just terrible, until now. Nor have I ever written something that so DESPERATELY needed more work, but been unable to bring myself to even think about, much less look at it again.
So without further ado, my sonnet.
To those who like their winter days, please come
To our fair town, we’ve hail and wind to spare.
For when it’s cold it chills right through your hair.
Then suddenly through rain, there’s warmth, the sun.
A multitude of rainbows grace our shores
And never do we know quite what we’ll get.
But here in Melbourne we are used to it
With freezing sun and tepid rain galore.
Am I someone who would prefer more heat?
Perhaps for holidays and tans and at
the beach. But when the sun begins to beat,
My dreams consist of snow and ice and sleet.
So I resolve to be a person that
Enjoys each day, and never thinks to weep.
that's right, A SONNET.
Oh COME ON... who actually WRITES SONNETS after 1852? Why would I want to, much less ever NEED to know how to write a sonnet? Iambic pentameter is a very funky sounding term, but one which I hope never to have to use in any context ever again.
Got that? NEVER AGAIN.
Oh right, and did I forget to mention, the sonnet had to be about the weather.
Now, I don't think I have ever submitted (or indeed even written!) something that I honestly thought was just terrible, until now. Nor have I ever written something that so DESPERATELY needed more work, but been unable to bring myself to even think about, much less look at it again.
So without further ado, my sonnet.
To those who like their winter days, please come
To our fair town, we’ve hail and wind to spare.
For when it’s cold it chills right through your hair.
Then suddenly through rain, there’s warmth, the sun.
A multitude of rainbows grace our shores
And never do we know quite what we’ll get.
But here in Melbourne we are used to it
With freezing sun and tepid rain galore.
Am I someone who would prefer more heat?
Perhaps for holidays and tans and at
the beach. But when the sun begins to beat,
My dreams consist of snow and ice and sleet.
So I resolve to be a person that
Enjoys each day, and never thinks to weep.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Secrets...
My Christmas present from my brother arrived yesterday... yes, it was a little late, but it's ok, I won't hold it against him. I was totally surprised... totally. And i don't get that many presents that are a TOTAL surprise, and so.... secretive.
SO do you want to know what it is?
Do you?
I'm guessing you do....
It was the book of PostSecret. THat's right, the website I have spent so many hours trawling over the last couple of years has a book.
I don't know why i'm so intrigued by this blog... by the secrets of all of these random people, except that possibly because time I read them, I'm reading my own secrets... they're my secrets, but I've never sent them a postcard. I've thought about it many times, but never quite got there. I have so many secrets from so many different people. In fact, I don't think there is anybody in the world that knows everything about me, and I like it.
When I read this book, it reminds me that there are thousands of other people in the world feeling exactly the same way I am at any moment.
I guess i'm not as unique as I thought...
SO do you want to know what it is?
Do you?
I'm guessing you do....
It was the book of PostSecret. THat's right, the website I have spent so many hours trawling over the last couple of years has a book.
I don't know why i'm so intrigued by this blog... by the secrets of all of these random people, except that possibly because time I read them, I'm reading my own secrets... they're my secrets, but I've never sent them a postcard. I've thought about it many times, but never quite got there. I have so many secrets from so many different people. In fact, I don't think there is anybody in the world that knows everything about me, and I like it.
When I read this book, it reminds me that there are thousands of other people in the world feeling exactly the same way I am at any moment.
I guess i'm not as unique as I thought...
Monday, January 08, 2007
2007 is a New Year
Well dear friends. It really has been QUITE some time, hasn't it? A very busy, fun-filled and EVENTFUL time, but a long time nonetheless.
First of all, Happy New Year everybody!
Anyway, without further ado, I guess I had better start from the beginning.
In the beginning there was god... oh wait. not that beginning.
As I look back... my last post was November 22nd. This date isn't particularly significant, other than that you may have guessed by reading it, I was in quite a shit mood with a certain person. I am filled with pleasure, pride and all good things to be able to report that I no longer have to deal with this person... Yes, that's right, FINALLY he has been given the can. Lets all cheer together! YIPPEEEEEEEE!
November and December were particularly busy months for me... at the start of November I began a new job... actually I began a new job, whilst continuing to do my old job. Hello, my name is tammy-two-jobs. Basically, someone at my work left, and I am now doing her job and mine. TO begin with, I was totally ridiculously and utterly busy. My workload literally tripled, and I didn't have a spare moment at work to scratch my... well.. you get the idea. At around the same time, I started studying again, so was busy with trying to get assessments in on time as well.
Fortunately, whilst I am still very busy, the learning curve I was hurtling up has become somewhat less steep, and particularly in this fairly quiet time of year, I have a little more time to do things like write in blogs!
Also, my sister was here for about 6 weeks leading up to her wedding. the end of November and all of December were filled with all the fun and busy things that entailed, and I totally and utterly adored having her with us for that time! It's been a number of years since she was living at home, much less in the same country, and it was so nice to just be able to call out and have her answer, and go for walks, and coffees and movies etc. All those things I hadn't even really realised I missed so much! The wedding itself was on December 28th in Busselton in WA, and i was the first time in about 10 years that our entire family has been on holiday together! The day was beautiful, Georgie and Ed looked gloriously happy, the whole week was HUGE fun, and i'm quite sure will be one of my all-time favourite memories forever! I'll post some photos below so you can all get an idea of how it went down.
Now i'm back at work, and after nearly 2 weeks off over Christmas, lets just say I had a very consistent workload for the first few days of January! I've just booked my next overseas holiday, to the Philippines to do some scuba diving, Koh Samui in Thailand with Georgie and Ed for a few days, and then back to Singapore to stay with them for a week. I am really looking forward to this, and whilst I don't really feel that I desperately NEED a holiday like I did before Christmas (if I'd had to work one more day i think i'd have died!), i'm sure that by the middle of Feb when I leave, i'll be needing it as much as ever!
One of the more recent comments from a friend on this blog read along the lines of: "there's a cynic in all of us." I was recently described as a fountain of sarcasm... and this made me laugh.. because it's true. The end of last year was a busy, stressful and highly emotional time for me (for many reasons, mainly work-related!). I didn't much enjoy the way I felt, and was made to feel, and I have made a resolve that this year will be different. I so enjoyed getting away from it all, remembering what it is to relax and enjoy myself, enjoy the company of my brilliant family and friends, and be reminded what life is all about. Tammy the cynic is gone. Tammy the fun, relaxed and excited little lady is back... the one who does things OTHER than work, who makes the effort to keep in contact with her friends, regardless of how little time she may have to see them, the Tam who stays fit and healthy and has things to look forward to, the Tam who sometimes says NO when people ask her to do things, and who spends some time doing things for herself, the Tam who is HERE and loving it, instead of wishing she were somewhere else.
I'm not committing to writing in this blog every day, because realistically, it won't happen. But i am going to try to update it MORe regularly, and also to keep up to date with reading all those blogs i used to love so much, but haven't checked for months!
so welcome back to my life everybody, and welcome back me.
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