Thursday, 22 October 2015

Spread The Christmas Love

It’s CHRISTMAS!!!! OK it’s not but very soon it will be CHRISTMAS and every year it’s CHRISTMAS!!!!! OMG CHRIIIIIIISSSTMAS!!!!!

So. You are in one of three camps....

Christmas Helicopters1) You flipping LOVE Christmas to bits. You either openly or secretly prepare for it all year round, starting in the January sales (my Nana would be proud of you especially if you start with Marksies). Every part of it fills you with immense pleasure and every stage has become a ritual...planning the presents, buying your cards, choosing an advent calendar, choosing the wrapping, designing your decoration style, making your cake, ordering your cheese (ok that might just be me-the cheese freak) etc etc. You get semi orgasmic as soon as they start playing Christmas tunes in store and putting up the decs. You poo-poo the naysayers exclaiming “Oh it’s too early! We haven’t even had Easter yet”. You’re delirious when you see the “weeks til Christmas” countdown in your Facebook/Twitter timelines and are almost sick with excitement when weeks turn to days. You start planning your trips to the Christmas wonderlands/Father Christmas’s etc in September whether you have kids or not and get your organise the work Secret Santa Christmas and have the staff Christmas meal booked before the end of that month too. You start checking the probability of a White Christmas from June and if the odds even drop a miniscule amount, you pass out from overexcitement. Pass the smelling salts: THIS IS YOUR TIME OF YEAR BABY!

Christmas Tree2) You’re just a bah humbug. You’re just a miserable codger who can’t stand the “commercialisation” or worse still the “Amercianisation” of Christmas. You HATE the tinkling strains of Cliff being piped through your shopping experience in October. You want to punch the Store Manager in the face. And why the hell has a Gingerbread Latte become a “thing?” Why can’t Christmas just start on Christmas eve like it did when YOU were a kid? When you just had a piney twig for a tree, some garish flower lights that only occasionally worked, some tired tinsel that you brought out every year (we never bought new decorations every year in MY day!) one present under the tree and a stocking full of stones and mud if you were lucky. You wish Christmas and all it’s cheap, sparkly crap would DO ONE.

3) You hate Christmas. Your reasons for hating Christmas are sad and awful. You’ve had some horrible emotional event which Christmas is a stinging reminder of every year. You wish everyone would shut-the-cup-up about it all. You want to hibernate until January. Or you find it a very exclusive, lonely time. Everyone focusing on socialising and gift giving and “the commercial” side of the holiday. You may be in a vulnerable position, physically, emotionally, mentally or financially and seeing everyone prance around with the idiotic silliness of the season just rams home how awful your situation is. People are selfish idiots.

Gorgeous Christmas BabiesNow. As you could probably already guess if you don’t know me personally I belong completely and utterly in camp number 1. I guess this is because I was super lucky enough to have been brought up in a family equally as ridiculous as me in it’s enthusiasm for the season.  I understand why people are in camp 2. It IS a very commercial time of year and every year seemingly more so with the media (social media especially *eyeballs Pinterest*) introducing more and more ways to pressure us into spending more. Christmas eve box for the kids anyone? Homemade Advent filled with toys anyone? Or the ultimate Advent Calendar for this mummy.... Selfridges!
But as for the last camp....this time of year can absolutely suck like hell for a lot of people. It’s so easy to get caught up in the madness and forget that there are lonely people or sad or ill people who could really do with a boost at this time of year. Sorry to turn this light hearted post into a sombrefest but for my fellow Christmas lunatics it might be nice to give some of our silliness back to the community and share our spirit. I have wanted to do something worthwhile at Christmas for a while but having small kids has always been the excuse I use for not committing. This year I am going to change that. I want to do something to make someone’s life a bit easier this Christmas. If you are a fellow Christmas looney here are some ways you can help too to share the Christmas Love:

(If you’re a bah humbug, buck yer ideas up and join in too)

Finally if you are one of my fellow are some local charities you can help out.

If that feels like too much but you want to keep it local then check out the following sites:

The Wallich / Emmaus South Wales  / Llamau / Shelter Cymru / Cardiff Foodbank

 I hope everyone EVERYONE even the BAH HUMBUGS have a brilliant time this Christmas.


Friday, 2 October 2015

Why I Now Love The Three Day Nanny (it's not why you think).

So I've just seen the Three Day Nanny (Kathryn Mewes) being interviewed on the This Morning couch. I have to say, I'd only ever watched one of her programmes because it felt like we'd seen it all before with Jo Supernanny. And actually she seemed a bit prissy (which is probably a bit mean). But she was talking about her struggle with her own new parenthood and loss of control with a newborn. I was hooked! 

How brave to go on National TV and tell the UK that actually, when it came to having her own baby, she struggled like buggery to hold it together! She confessed that she even had someone else train her baby to sleep (although this begged the question who and where can we get one?!) whilst she snivelled down the end of the garden! My respect for her has gone through the roof. 

One of the first things she said to Eamonn and Ruth was that she felt she had failed little Holly. That's EXACTLY HOW I FELT! 

She went on to explain that after a 26 hour labour and emergency forceps delivery (eerily similar to my own first labour experience) she only felt relief that Holly had arrived safe and well, handed her over to her partner and just existed in a daze for the next 3 days. She felt she didn't bond with her at all to begin with. Again that's exactly what happened to me. When I was finally wheeled from theatre to the high dependency ward, out of my mind on sleep deprivation, physical exhaustion, severe dehydration and druuuugz, I just handed Gus to Emlyn and cried and cried before begging for sleep. I wasn't interested in cuddling my beautiful boy. I was so overwhelmed. Even now, thinking about that breaks my heart. How could I not have wanted to clutch this darling thing to my breast and never let him go?! That's how you're supposed to feel, right?! A rush of euphoric love that lasts forever! 

NOT feeling like that makes you feel like the worst, most despicable, confused human imaginable. And it stays with you for a very long time. I'd even go as far as to say if it weren't for the fact that my second child's birth WAS all the things I'd expected from the first, I wonder if a part of me would actually believe that birth could be ALL THE AMAZING FEELINGS! And there will always be secret sadness in my heart that my luscious boy's entry to the world was tainted by my inability to cope.

Kathryn going on telly to share the truth of her daughters birth is SO admirable. Because I know we aren't the only mums who felt like that. I think it's very common to mum's who are used to being in control in their everyday lives. I'm sure as a hell a control freak, I can't cope at all in disorder and chaos, although I am learning to through being a parent. Laid back, chilled, roll with the punches people are an enigma to me! And i think perhaps we should talk more openly about how common it is to NOT feel like a "brilliant, loving earth mum" immediately especially for those who do suffer traumatic birth experiences. It can be so lonely and alienating when you think you are the only one experiencing negative emotions about parenting.

Knowing that I wasn't alone, that it didn't make me a terrible, selfish person and actually that someone who has huge respect for her child rearing skillz experienced birth and baby blues in the exact same way is a huge comfort. I think 3 Day Nanny should get a flipping medal. And I'm now going to scour the interwebs for all her old episodes (and stalk her on Twitter obvs)! 

Can anyone else relate to this? Did anyone else have that disassociated feeling post birth and terror of keeping the tiny bundle alive BY YOURSELF?!? Or are you one of those enigmas who let it all wash off you? Comments please! Love to hear your stories too! 

Thursday, 17 September 2015

90s Nostalgia vs Present Day Mindfulness

Retro 90s! It’s all OVER the place at the moment! People are lapping up those Madchester tunes, baggy trousers, bucket hats and days when you could smoke anywhere you liked. This Is England 90! (Admittedly immense television viewing) TFI Friday! My MAD Fat Diary! 90s themed nights! 90s themed parties! There are even 90s Fashion revival boards all over Pinterest and Guardian articles extolling the virtues of a time before trolling.

This is a very strange time for me. My experience of the 90s was mostly brilliant but also a little bit mixed. I was a teenager for the most part (I was 16 in 1992) in school and then in Uni. So emotionally, seeing all of these programmes and getting caught up in the tidal wave of nostalgia isn’t a wholly pleasant experience. But then, is gorging on nostalgia ever a good thing?

Obviously being a teenager is an exciting but difficult time for anyone. Working out your place in the world, convinced you’re a “grown up” but without the knowledge, experience or confidence of real adulthood. I spent a lot of my time as a teenager rallying to be taken seriously as an adult whilst still acting like a spoilt child. A typical example of this: demanding to be allowed to go off in a van to Glastonbury at 17 with a bunch of men in their 20s (!) who all looked like they needed a bloody good wash, when I should have been on first-year exam duty in school! Amazingly I was allowed to go and had the best time of my life. I DID receive a lecture upon my return to school about irresponsibility and a detention to boot, but who cares?! I saw the Velvet Underground live! I lolled about in hippy fields and got lost in seas of tents and ate Japanese noodles and got drunk on cheapy flagons of cider and smoked 100 Marlboro reds! It was brilliant! (And it was 1993….years before rain destroyed the fields.)

At the same time however, I was too scared to use the phone. I would rather eat my own head than call for a taxi. I couldn’t have cooked a meal other than beans on toast (sufficiently) or washed my own clothes or sorted out bills and paid council tax or anything that real adults did. Well I could at a push. But I didn’t….my Mum did. Because really, I was still a kid.

And even when I went to Uni and had all the freedom and independence and learnt to do all the grown up things…I still wasn’t a properly formed adult. I still had a crippling lack of self-confidence, I still felt sick to death talking in lectures or god forbid, doing an actual talk. I still spent 90% of my time thinking no one REALLY liked me and ALL BOYS hated me (which to some extent was true, sadly). So when I hear the music from that time and see re-creations of nights out on TV the feelings I experience are fond but with a heap of sadness for the lost soul I felt between the ages of 16-21. My Mad Fat Diary was a particular trigger for this being focused on the life of a teenager in the mid-90s.

If you were a teen or at Uni in the 90s…. how do you feel about having all these feelings of the past resurrected so constantly at the moment?
And for everyone else who enjoyed the 90s and remembers them well, there must have been times during that decade that you’d like to forget too? A lot of the music is soul-searching and heart wrenching stuff….. Radiohead, Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Rage Against the Machine etc. I can’t imagine anyone listening to Kurt’s iconic unplugged cover of the “Man Who Sold The World” and feel anything other than desperate sadness, especially given how tragically his life ended.

And why do we have a need as a society to hark back so much to the past? I’ve definitely made the point before about how I feel like the world we live in is a much safer, more exciting time. But I also feel like we should be embracing the here and now. And there is some sciencey shiz to back me up on this thinking! Mindfulness has become a really powerful tool to help people to overcome anxiety. Anxiety is a scourge on our society right now with more and more people being diagnosed with stress related conditions, anxiety and / or depression. Mindfulness teaches us to be present and to stay focused on the here and now. It helps us to not focus on what happened in the past or worry about what will happen in the future. I also feel like, for those people who DO miss times past, their enjoyment of now and of future events will be tainted by this ache for something that cannot be recreated. I actually think It’s a bit irresponsible to present the past as perfect and scaremonger about how awful things are now.

No wonder the instances of stress and depression are on the rise if all we see are Vaseline-lensed nostalgia pieces, how fat the latest sleb has become or terrible global events CAUSED BY JONNY FOREIGNER! Surely we could do with more focus in the media of staying present in this moment and presenting a more positive outlook of the world we live in? Obviously I don’t mean ALL media coverage; I’m not talking about reporting news events from around the world or national politics etc. I’m talking opinion pieces, columns and TV programmes etc.

How about it? Come people, let’s start celebrating the greatness of today, today! Who’s with me?

And then the fun began...

Tuesday, 8 September 2015

Big Mouth Strikes Again

Big Mouth
Me and my biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig mouth. Ugh. I’ve done it again. I’ve got myself into trouble by opening my big gob when I should have a) thought about what I was going to say b) not said it. I did neither. And now I feel like a complete idiot.

On Saturday night I was scrolling through my Twitter feed, it was a bit late and I may have had a wine or two. (That was the first mistake). I came across a Twitter conversation between two journalists I really liked having a big old bitch about 2 other (married) journalists I also really liked regarding an article the husband had written. I was so shocked that they were so publicly ridiculing this couple and without even including them in their tweets and therefore giving them no way to defend themselves. I felt it was really snarky, childish and unprofessional.

So. Um. I told them. In a Tweet, in which I added the other couple who were being bitched about. In fact it was 3 tweets. OK it was a 3 tweet rant about how inappropriate it all was.

WHY? WHHHHHHHHHY did I do this? What on EARTH did I think the response would be? Did I HONESTLY think my tweets would make the guilty parties have a “long hard look at themselves” and respond with contrite apologies to all concerned?! Did I think that the wounded parties would thank me profusely for my loyalty and tell the bitching girls to eff off?! I don’t know what the hell I was thinking! Because of course it became a Twitter shit-storm with me at the centre!

Not only did the husband tell me he didn’t give a hoot and wasn’t interested, the girls bombarded me with tweets defending themselves (one protesting innocence and the other one just being sarcastic) and telling me that including the ridiculed couple in the tweets was “bad form”. (But apparently bitching about them isn’t?!)  A few other people started to wade in…including a gameshow presenter whose “witty” tweet about the whole thing being like “An episode of Emmerdale” has had 12 favourites, a RT and a few tittered responses to date. I’ve also had some random strangers tweeting all involved to tell us they’re “enjoying the show” as I try and defend myself and the girls berate me even more. It’s a disaster.

If only I’d kept my big mouth shut!

And of course, OF COURSE this isn’t the first time I’ve engaged mouth before brain. A couple of weeks ago I start barking at the Huff Post and its blog editor about my post being “stolen” because a very similar piece had been published. I was ridiculed all over twitter by her; she also called me a liar…tweeting to everyone that I was liar and demanding a retraction, when actually I wasn’t lying (I proved I’d spoken to her and emailed posts to her for her to read in the past and she tweeted that she had no idea who I was). Just like the clusterfuck above….i was the only one who ended up looking stupid.

Why do I do it? Why do I get all uppity and ranty and high horsey?!

I think there are a few reasons. Firstly if I see (what I deem to be) injustice and I DON’T say something or do anything…I feel like I’m being cowardly. I had a massive lack of confidence as a kid especially in school and confrontation terrified me. I still don’t like it but I push myself to speak up when I think things aren’t right because I think it makes me a weak, pathetic person if I don’t. Which is ridiculous! It doesn’t make me weak, it makes me ADULT.

Secondly, I have a bit of a thing for fighting battles that aren’t mine. The thing that bothered me the most was that the wife of the couple was a complete innocent and she’d been inadvertently bought into the whole thing, which I felt was unfair. I have a thing for fairness also. If I think something isn’t “fair” then I get really angry. However my idea of what is deemed “fair” may not correlate with anyone else’s so this is a bit of a redundant defence!

Thirdly I definitely didn’t think it through. I didn’t think about what outcome I would actually get….i just blurt-tweeted.

Lastly the Twitter world is a funny one. It is such an accessible way to reach people in the public eye that it’s hard not to speak to them as if you know them. Which of course you don’t at all. I half think that the people who tweet aren’t even real… ESPECIALLY the “slebs”. So it kind of feels like I’m not really tweeting people in real life. If that makes any sense at all. So tweeting them abuse…that’s FINE because they don’t EXIST. Yeah, I realise this too is a very stupid argument.

So what do I do about it? (“It” being my GOB). I think the only thing I can do is….i NEED to SHUT THE HELL UP. I need to stop tweeting my mouth off and start really considering how I am presenting myself to the world. If I ever want to get anywhere with writing, people will run a mile from me if they think I am a verbal liability. I must learnt restraint. B…but…but is this possible? Can a big-mouthed blogger ever change her spots?! I’m not so sure……………

What do you think? I’m throwing the floor open to you….do you think I should shut up or do you think I’ll never change? Let me know in the comments. I’ve got a feeling I know the answer already…. *girds her loins for response*

Let's Talk Mommy

Sunday, 30 August 2015

Don't Be Scared Of Feminism

Are you scared to call yourself a feminist? Even though you think you should be and you probably want to be and you might be already but...but.... really you’re just worried that someone:

 a) Will suddenly expect you to list off all transgressions towards women since time began? And therefore cause you to have a hundred thousand counter arguments as to why you shouldn’t be?

b) Will ask how you can be a Feminist if you wear make-up, care about your appearance, shave your armpits, are attracted to men, enjoy sex etc?

c) Will think of you as some raging bra-burning radical hangover from the 70s who doesn’t wash and wears Birkenstocks?

d) Will think you just hate men? (Oh bless her; she’s had a hard time with a fella, poor dab).

e) Other?

If you answer yes to one or all of these questions PLEASE don’t despair!

Up until a few years ago, I don’t think I would feel brave enough to come out on social media and spout anything about Feminism. I actually studied gender identity in Uni and wrote my dissertation about Surrealism through the eyes of a feminist. And yet I was STILL too scared to say I am a feminist. For all of the above reasons and more. I was terrified that either a particularly articulate misogynist would shout me down, or a not particularly articulate but more-well-read Feminist would shout me down. Or in fact ANYONE would shout me down!

But in the last few years, thanks to social media and the voices of some great women in the UK media in general, (Caitlin Moran, Lauren Laverne, Hadley Freeman et al) I feel braver. So brave in fact that I want to really start talking about it more. I don’t want it to be this big, oppressive “opinion” that makes people think you’re a raving extremist. It doesn’t have to be. I want people to embrace it and not feel embarrassed to call themselves Feminist. Men and Women alike.

I know there are some people who have a problem with the term Feminist because they feel its exclusionist. If it’s a term that represents EQUALITY then why aren’t we equality-ists?! Well put simply.... the pendulum has swung in favour of men for a very, very long time. Everything we experience in our society has been created by men to benefit men (ie the patriarchal society). They have historically held all positions of power, be it in family (the male lineage, taking the male name, the son being first heir etc) or in positions of power within Government, Business, Religion etc. So to swing the pendulum the other way, we have to shift the balance to include women, hence the term Feminism.

We are now, I have recently learned, entering what some people are calling the Fourth Wave of Feminism. Who knew there were so many waves?! Thanks to people being able to articulate themselves better with the “edit” facility of social media, people are able to express themselves in a much clearer way. And Feminism is a hot topic.

And I say “people” and not just women because wanting equality of the sexes is not exclusive to just women. Plenty of men want in on it too.

BUT the first wave was started by the suffragettes and most notably Emily Davison throwing herself at the King’s horse in 1913. 1913! That’s over 100 years ago and we’re still talking about needing equality! Come on peeps! We need to grab this thing and run with it!

So you don’t know all the ins and outs of the beginnings of Feminism, you don’t know who Emily Davison or Simone de Beauvoir or Germaine Greer are? You’ve never heard of the Male Gaze much less realised you were a victim of it? Who cares!?! You wear make-up and shave your hairy bits and actually want to feel attractive to the sex you want to attract...according to the patriarchal standards of beauty that we accept as normal? SO? SOOOOO? Why is it bad to want to feel normal and accepted amongst your peers?! That’s not WRONG. That is utterly your choice and it certainly doesn’t dictate whether you should feel embarrassed about wanting equality for women.

How about THESE questions:

1)    Do you think Female Genital Mutilation is acceptable?
2)    Do you think a man and a woman doing the same job should have different pay?
3)    Do you think the way a woman dresses dictates whether or not she should be raped?

Answer NO to all of them, right? BOOOM, you’re a feminist! Now shooooo.....go away and spread the word. Until we don’t have to ask these questions like these anymore, Feminism is still needed, OK?

Unscary Feminist
Feminist in Make-up and wearing pretty shiz and not giving 2 hoots!

Brilliant blog posts on

Wednesday, 15 July 2015

Failing Isn't Always Good For You

We are always told that failing is good for us. It teaches us. It helps us grow. We learn from our mistakes. But what if it doesn’t? What if it just makes us feel really, really bad about ourselves? What if constantly failing damages us psychologically and emotionally for a very long time? How is THAT good for us? And even if we do learn something from our experience, what if those lessons don’t outweigh the oppressive feeling of low self worth?

Failing to look at the camera
I don’t think of myself as a failure in life. Even I’m not that dramatic. I don’t think I’m a particularly negative person either. In fact quite recently I read an article about how optimistic people are always late....that MUST mean I’m an optimistic person, right?!

But I have some big fat failures under my belt. And as they stack up over the years I am finding it increasingly difficult to shake the feeling that I am pretty shit at a lot of stuff. And that’s not great for anyone’s self worth.

So let’s start with a few things that I consider I have failed at or am failing at in life.

I don’t have a career to speak of. I have a job. I have worked on and off for the same organisation for 13 years (give or take some travelling/living abroad). I work in Finance. My degree is in Fine Art and Art History. I desperately tried to break into that world when I graduated but I didn’t have the experience or the confidence to get into such a highly competitive field, despite doing voluntary work in galleries and low paid menial gallery guarding just to try and get a foot in the door. I even tried to make a living as an artist *hollow laugh* painting pots at craft fairs for a while. It was pitiful.

I left that world feeling dejected and crap and just got a boring but paid admin job instead. I fell into finance administration by default. My grandparents asked me for years when I was going to put my great education to some use. I’ve always felt like this is the area where I have failed the most. I am going to be 40 next year and I can’t even blame it on having kids. They didn’t come along until 5 years ago! It just got to a point where I didn’t know what else to do.

I don’t own my house. Thanks to reason one, I’ve never owned any property because I’ve failed to earn enough to save. Or I have failed to save what I have earned. That’s a pretty big Debbie downer for me. I never thought I’d be married with kids but living in a rented house. I feel ashamed that I am so irresponsible with money that I can’t even provide my kids with the basic security of living in a house we own. Disclaimer: I don’t feel like not owning your own house, kids or no kids, is something to be ASHAMED of.... I just think I had higher expectations of myself and probably if I’d be more sensible with money I could have.

When it was obvious that I wasn’t going to be the power-dressing career woman I’d assumed I’d be (!), I thought that I would just concentrate on being a great mum instead. At least then I would have some purpose in life! I would be giving something great to the world after all!

Imagine my surprise when I endured every conceivable pregnancy illness, was sick everyday for 9 months and therefore hated almost every second of it. I’d failed at pregnancy! But optimism still abounds....bad pregnancy meant easy birth right? Wrong. 18 hours of induced labour, and pushing, only to be dragged off to theatre and have my child yanked out with forceps and then not breathe for 7 minutes. But, but I can claw it back still though because I’ll be able to breastfeed and we can just forget that whole sorry mess...oh no hang on....

Um..... Do you see a pattern emerging here?

So little recap: No career, no house, crap at pregnancy, birth and breastfeeding (a bit dodgy on my actual ability to parent well too but I think there’s enough in this list for now).... You’ve got to admit, anyone would be feeling pretty cruddy about themselves right now, wouldn’t they? How much more failure can someone take in life?

I haven’t even mentioned the disastrous love life of my 20s (highlights including dating a psycho), my 5th failed driving test this YEAR and finally a year into my gastric band surgery and not even half the weight being shed. I suck at succeeding in life!

I am obviously being fairly flippant here but actually it does weigh pretty heavily on me. I am on anti-depressants and I see a counsellor regularly. I don’t think that’s because I see myself as a failure, I think it’s because having failed (in my eyes) at so much, I need help building myself up again. And I know there are lots of things I haven’t failed at. I’m quite good at cooking. I can carry a tune. I can do funny accents. I can usually make people laugh (at or with me). I think I’m quite good at writing moaning old blog posts about how crap I am, right?

On a more serious note though, I know there are a few big things out there that I am good at and I don’t FAIL at. I haven’t failed at marriage (yet). My kids are happy and healthy. I have a load of friends who I *think* value my friendship too. Despite it not being my career choice, I have maintained my job at the same organisation for 13 years so I’m obviously doing something right there. And recently I’ve discovered that at least a few other people think I’m not bad at writing (thanks to a certain blog award nomination). There are probably more things I could think of if I really thought about it. I really am a glass half full person. I just could do with a few more top ups and a few less spillages. Because failing is a life lesson I’m a pretty big pro at right now. 

And then the fun began...

Thursday, 25 June 2015

How Not To Take A Good Passport Photo

I have just had the misfortune of making 3 separate attempts at trying to produce a photo that Customs and Excise will feel is the truest representation of my face. At a cost of fifteen, FIFTEEN of your British Earth Pounds! I tell you! I don’t have that kind of money to fanny around with! I’m already being robbed blind paying out nearly £100 smackers for the privilege of having an up-to-date passport just so I can prove that I am MYSELF in any given situation (because it sure as hell isn’t anything as fun as a HOLIDAY. Although the “fun-ness” of holidays at my time of life is debated here…).

In the photo it’s required that there is a white background, my head needs to sit neatly between two markers on the screen, I must have nothing on my face, neck, head. I must show no facial expression and DEFINITELY NO SMILING. Official guidelines here.

Photo 1:

Bad Passport Pic 1

It was rejected by the kind ladies at the post office counter who after much too-ing and fro-ing because I was a) too far back and so my head was too small (despite fitting within the markers) b) I was off centre c) my fringe was TOUCHING my eye brow. (No joke).

Just a little question here. Does my hair lightly TOUCHING my eyebrow indicate terrorist leanings? Is it likely to hide a massive, facially disfiguring scar meaning I could in reality be a spy of different ethnical origin? Or whatever it is they’re worried about….

Also, why? Why do we have to look so goddamn miserable and ugly? MOST of us don’t spend our days with absolutely NO expression unless we’ve had an unfortunate accident. When we are walking through customs, our faces will be animated from talking, laughing (crying?!) or whatever. We won’t be trudging through-dead eyed, staring off into the distance like zombies! It’s very silly.

On a personal note, this experience has taught me a few things about my face. My eyes are completely unequal…one looks like it’s bulging out ready to make a run for it and the other one is contemplating a snooze. I’ll never make it into one of those articles where they dissect the symmetry of a gorgeous famous face now. And I’m getting a bit jowly.

Photo 2:

Bad Passport Pic 2

Rejected again! Ugh what the WHAT?! This time the area around my neck is too dark and my MOUTH IS OPEN. Oh come ON! Even if I was concealing a massive goitre, what would that mean about my identity?! What security risk is there in my having a goitre?! It’s so goitrist! As for the mouth open….I ….eh? Terrorists all have their mouths sewed shut at birth..? I can’t even.

Photo 3:

Bad Passport pic 3

Now come on, you can see ALL OF MY MASSIVE FACE in ALL its glory. I’m not concealing weapons of mass destruction in a goitre on my neck…can you please give me a fricking passport now? NO? Because my eyes aren’t central enough.

I give up.

Btw how do these pictures represent my face? The pictures below are faaaaaaaar more representative of my face. If you want to know who I am then these are the photos that should appear in my passport Customs. Not those dead eyed freaks above. K? K. 

Brilliant blog posts on