Hey
Now, I don't see my children from my first marriage anywhere near as often as I'd like, but sometimes things happen and I miss them much more than usual.
Tonight, they are flying out to Spain with their mum and her partner and his children and god knows who else. Loads of them going.
I have mixed feelings about this. I'm really pleased for them. I'm pleased that they're going to experience foreign lands, etc., but from a selfish point of view, I don't want them to go. I want to them stay, I was going to say close to me, but they're not are they? They live in Wales and I don't. They're not close to me from day to day, so why should I miss them more now?
I've tried to contact my eldest daughter several times but her mobile is never switched on. I just want to tell her to be careful. I don't need to tell her, though - she is sensible.
My head is all over the place now I've started typing all this. I'm thinking my problem with is is a lack of control, but what control do I have usually? Little. I don't know. I have no idea why I feel as stressed about it as I do. I wish I was at home (and not at work, as I am now), so I could talk to my best friend about it. She'd be able to help me for sure.
Now my ipod is playing "So Far Away" by Dire Straights. Could not be more appropriate.
I need to get a grip.
Goodbye.
Saturday, 16 October 2010
Monday, 11 October 2010
Wow
Hello.
I was thinking - should I start these posts with a Dear Diary kind of thing? Maybe I will in future.
Anyway - we're back from our hols and what an ace time we had! Gran Canaria was the last of the Canary Islands that I had to visit and it's just as lovely as the others (with Fuerteventura being the exception*). We stayed a few miles away from the famous sand dunes at Maspalomas. They are literally breathtakingly stunning. It was one of those times when you have to doff your cap to nature and look in awe.
Maspalomas beach is famous for the dunes - and the nudity. As you enter the beach from Maspalomas, the first few hundred metres are full of the usual beach types. Men in shorts and women in bikini's (some topless, but nothing unusual there). However, venture down the beach a little and if you don't notice the sign telling you that you are entering the nudist area, you will eventually realise that nobody has got any clothes on! Now - nudist area might conjure up images of a small section of beach with a few nudies in it - not so. The beach is as busy, if not busier in the nudist area.
So - when in Rome and all that. I whipped my t-shirt and shorts off and we continued to walk down the beach front with me all naked! It was the first time I'd been in that situation and all I could say was how liberating and completely natural it felt. Many people associate nudity with sex, and that is the big mistake. It just isn't like that at all. It's just so natural, relaxing, comfortable, and other words like that. Whilst, of course, you do look (or notice) the boobs, bums and genitalia, you become very aware that it's not about the body beautiful - it's just about the body natural. Everyone has parts of their body that they're not happy with, and none of that matters because you're not "on parade", which brings me back to it not being sexual.
Ok - rant over...a short walk further and you notice that the nudey people are now predominately men. The area has a very large gay scene and this is where they (quite literally) hang out during the day! After a while we turned back to walk back towards Maspalomas. The beach does lead round to our resort, but it's a bloody long way!
I thoroughly enjoyed my first beach nude experience, and hope I'll have further opportunities to do it again in the future.
One other thing that I was very very impressed / proud of, was that Luke didn't once comment on the fact that everyone was naked. That goes to show me that he doesn't see nudity as anything unusual, and I'm pleased with his outlook in that respect.
Ok - I'm going to finish my drink and go to bed. Nighty night!
* I LOVE Fuerteventura and I'd be quite happy to holiday there for a good few years to come!
I was thinking - should I start these posts with a Dear Diary kind of thing? Maybe I will in future.
Anyway - we're back from our hols and what an ace time we had! Gran Canaria was the last of the Canary Islands that I had to visit and it's just as lovely as the others (with Fuerteventura being the exception*). We stayed a few miles away from the famous sand dunes at Maspalomas. They are literally breathtakingly stunning. It was one of those times when you have to doff your cap to nature and look in awe.
Maspalomas beach is famous for the dunes - and the nudity. As you enter the beach from Maspalomas, the first few hundred metres are full of the usual beach types. Men in shorts and women in bikini's (some topless, but nothing unusual there). However, venture down the beach a little and if you don't notice the sign telling you that you are entering the nudist area, you will eventually realise that nobody has got any clothes on! Now - nudist area might conjure up images of a small section of beach with a few nudies in it - not so. The beach is as busy, if not busier in the nudist area.
So - when in Rome and all that. I whipped my t-shirt and shorts off and we continued to walk down the beach front with me all naked! It was the first time I'd been in that situation and all I could say was how liberating and completely natural it felt. Many people associate nudity with sex, and that is the big mistake. It just isn't like that at all. It's just so natural, relaxing, comfortable, and other words like that. Whilst, of course, you do look (or notice) the boobs, bums and genitalia, you become very aware that it's not about the body beautiful - it's just about the body natural. Everyone has parts of their body that they're not happy with, and none of that matters because you're not "on parade", which brings me back to it not being sexual.
Ok - rant over...a short walk further and you notice that the nudey people are now predominately men. The area has a very large gay scene and this is where they (quite literally) hang out during the day! After a while we turned back to walk back towards Maspalomas. The beach does lead round to our resort, but it's a bloody long way!
I thoroughly enjoyed my first beach nude experience, and hope I'll have further opportunities to do it again in the future.
One other thing that I was very very impressed / proud of, was that Luke didn't once comment on the fact that everyone was naked. That goes to show me that he doesn't see nudity as anything unusual, and I'm pleased with his outlook in that respect.
Ok - I'm going to finish my drink and go to bed. Nighty night!
* I LOVE Fuerteventura and I'd be quite happy to holiday there for a good few years to come!
Sunday, 19 September 2010
Wide Open
It was fed back to me recently, that my other Blogger blog is becoming more like a diary, and less like a way of achieving my ambition of taking one photo a day and publishing it on line. As soon it was mentioned, i knew it was right.
As you may know from reading this blog, I do go on a bit sometimes, and that's ok - here. The other blog is not the place for it. On top of that, my Twitter and Facebook lives have started going the same way. I was almost laying my life, and that of my family, wide open for anyone and everyone to see.
For those who really know me (and that's nobody as no bugger reads this!), you will know that deep down I am shy. On reflection, I never saw Facebook or Twitter as.... reality. I protect my profiles on both of them so if you are Tom, Dick or Harry you can't look at them. Based on that, I gave myself a false sense of security and almost felt that I could comfortably post anything I liked, not only about me, but about my family, too. It is for that reason that I haven't tweeted or said anything on Facebook for a few days now. I have taken stock and I shall approach them in a different way from now on.
In my real life, I have always been guilty (if it's a crime), of befriending people too easily. I will meet someone and work with them for a short time, and believe that they are good friends. It's not always the case. Being honest - sometimes it IS the case, but other times, not. I have transferred that "crime" to the virtual world, too. I have followed complete strangers on Twitter - people I've never ever met, and they have followed me back. We've had discussions about all sorts of things, and in my head - I had got to the point where I thought these people were my friends.
Now, because access to my profiles is restricted and also because of how choosy I am, these people might actually be really nice, and would make lovely friends in real life. But it's the difference between real life and my virtual life, that has become a bit grey. So - I'm not going to close my Facebook and Twitter accounts, but - I do intend to "hold off" a bit on there.
Whilst typing all this shiz, it's got me thinking as to why I felt the need to be everyone's friends, and to hold people close to me and consider them friends. Having analysed myself, it comes back to me being one of the following. Too trusting - easily led - desperate, and generally yearning for affirmation from everyone I come in to contact with. I'm proper weird, me. I might need to speak to someone.
As you may know from reading this blog, I do go on a bit sometimes, and that's ok - here. The other blog is not the place for it. On top of that, my Twitter and Facebook lives have started going the same way. I was almost laying my life, and that of my family, wide open for anyone and everyone to see.
For those who really know me (and that's nobody as no bugger reads this!), you will know that deep down I am shy. On reflection, I never saw Facebook or Twitter as.... reality. I protect my profiles on both of them so if you are Tom, Dick or Harry you can't look at them. Based on that, I gave myself a false sense of security and almost felt that I could comfortably post anything I liked, not only about me, but about my family, too. It is for that reason that I haven't tweeted or said anything on Facebook for a few days now. I have taken stock and I shall approach them in a different way from now on.
In my real life, I have always been guilty (if it's a crime), of befriending people too easily. I will meet someone and work with them for a short time, and believe that they are good friends. It's not always the case. Being honest - sometimes it IS the case, but other times, not. I have transferred that "crime" to the virtual world, too. I have followed complete strangers on Twitter - people I've never ever met, and they have followed me back. We've had discussions about all sorts of things, and in my head - I had got to the point where I thought these people were my friends.
Now, because access to my profiles is restricted and also because of how choosy I am, these people might actually be really nice, and would make lovely friends in real life. But it's the difference between real life and my virtual life, that has become a bit grey. So - I'm not going to close my Facebook and Twitter accounts, but - I do intend to "hold off" a bit on there.
Whilst typing all this shiz, it's got me thinking as to why I felt the need to be everyone's friends, and to hold people close to me and consider them friends. Having analysed myself, it comes back to me being one of the following. Too trusting - easily led - desperate, and generally yearning for affirmation from everyone I come in to contact with. I'm proper weird, me. I might need to speak to someone.
Wednesday, 15 September 2010
Faith
Boo!
So - George Michael, or to give him his actual name, Georgios Kyriacos Panayiotou, is going to live in Pentonville Prison for the next four weeks. He smoked one hell of a lot of cannabis, then went out for a drive in his Range Rover and crashed it into Snappy Snaps after apparently blacking out. Well done George. Well done more to the person who wrote "Wham" on the wall of the shop he crashed in to. Most amusing.
Pope Benedict XVI visits the UK tomorrow. I remember standing on the streets of Liverpool with my mum and dad in 1982 to catch a glimpse of Pope John Paul II. It was billed as a tremendous moment in my life and one not to be forgotten. To give my parents credit - I haven't. The whole place seemed to be filled with such love, and happiness it was quite strange for me as an eight year old to understand. John Paul II seemed like such a lovely, warm man - and everybody thought so. Not so, for Benedict XVI.
Before being inaugurated as Pope in 2005, Cardinal Joseph Alois Ratzinger was head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), an institution set up by the Catholic church to deal with child abuse by Catholic priests. He had exposure to how widespread this problem was like nobody else before him because before the creation of the CDF, child abuse allegations had been dealt with at diocese level. Almost all of a sudden, the Catholic church and Cardinal Ratzinger in particular, could see the full, disgusting picture.
The way the church chose to deal with these disgusting individuals was to move them. Remove them from their parish, and move them elsewhere. Not go to the authorities and say "we've got a bad one here, chief", no - just move them on.
I was brought up a Catholic. I served as an altar boy for many years. My beautiful mother rediscovered her Catholic faith in a huge way in the early 1980's, and that gave her tremendous strength and belief, which no doubt helped her through the darkest of times whilst she fought cancer. It is because of that - that I find myself in a difficult place right now. I have always called myself a Catholic. I don't attend mass with any regularity - not at all if the truth be told, but I know that when I fill forms out and it asks for religion or faith, I always tick the Catholic box. I'm not sure I can do that anymore. Faith is about having faith in something - believing in something. How can I say that I believe in the teachings and ways of a church that has - and let's be blunt about it - covered up known instances of child abuse. Not only that - the current Pope was responsible for some of those cover ups!
It pains me to say, but - I'm putting my faith on hold. I am fully aware that I am judging the whole church by the actions of a tiny minority, but one of those minority is sitting at the top of that very rich, very powerful, and was I perceive to be very corrupt church.
I'm sorry mum, but at the moment - even in the smallest of ways like ticking a box, I can't be part of a religious group like that.
I know that if mum was still around, she'd want to sit down and talk with me about this. I await that chat - however she wants to do it.
So - George Michael, or to give him his actual name, Georgios Kyriacos Panayiotou, is going to live in Pentonville Prison for the next four weeks. He smoked one hell of a lot of cannabis, then went out for a drive in his Range Rover and crashed it into Snappy Snaps after apparently blacking out. Well done George. Well done more to the person who wrote "Wham" on the wall of the shop he crashed in to. Most amusing.
Pope Benedict XVI visits the UK tomorrow. I remember standing on the streets of Liverpool with my mum and dad in 1982 to catch a glimpse of Pope John Paul II. It was billed as a tremendous moment in my life and one not to be forgotten. To give my parents credit - I haven't. The whole place seemed to be filled with such love, and happiness it was quite strange for me as an eight year old to understand. John Paul II seemed like such a lovely, warm man - and everybody thought so. Not so, for Benedict XVI.
Before being inaugurated as Pope in 2005, Cardinal Joseph Alois Ratzinger was head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), an institution set up by the Catholic church to deal with child abuse by Catholic priests. He had exposure to how widespread this problem was like nobody else before him because before the creation of the CDF, child abuse allegations had been dealt with at diocese level. Almost all of a sudden, the Catholic church and Cardinal Ratzinger in particular, could see the full, disgusting picture.
The way the church chose to deal with these disgusting individuals was to move them. Remove them from their parish, and move them elsewhere. Not go to the authorities and say "we've got a bad one here, chief", no - just move them on.
I was brought up a Catholic. I served as an altar boy for many years. My beautiful mother rediscovered her Catholic faith in a huge way in the early 1980's, and that gave her tremendous strength and belief, which no doubt helped her through the darkest of times whilst she fought cancer. It is because of that - that I find myself in a difficult place right now. I have always called myself a Catholic. I don't attend mass with any regularity - not at all if the truth be told, but I know that when I fill forms out and it asks for religion or faith, I always tick the Catholic box. I'm not sure I can do that anymore. Faith is about having faith in something - believing in something. How can I say that I believe in the teachings and ways of a church that has - and let's be blunt about it - covered up known instances of child abuse. Not only that - the current Pope was responsible for some of those cover ups!
It pains me to say, but - I'm putting my faith on hold. I am fully aware that I am judging the whole church by the actions of a tiny minority, but one of those minority is sitting at the top of that very rich, very powerful, and was I perceive to be very corrupt church.
I'm sorry mum, but at the moment - even in the smallest of ways like ticking a box, I can't be part of a religious group like that.
I know that if mum was still around, she'd want to sit down and talk with me about this. I await that chat - however she wants to do it.
Wednesday, 18 August 2010
Two In One Day
At my age, too!
I've had second thoughts. I think I still need something like this to speak at.
I currently have old photo's from my childhood and some of them have made me well up. It's the one's featuring my parents from before I was born. I want to ask questions about them. Who was that couple with you? Where was that taken? WHEN was that taken. Another photo just came up. Me, aged about 6 or 7 in a field with cows in it. I've NO idea where or when it was taken. The only two people who know the answers have gone - and it fucking hurts.
Day to day stuff is fine- I can cope a-ok with that. But now and again things like this crop up, and I hate it.
I've had second thoughts. I think I still need something like this to speak at.
I currently have old photo's from my childhood and some of them have made me well up. It's the one's featuring my parents from before I was born. I want to ask questions about them. Who was that couple with you? Where was that taken? WHEN was that taken. Another photo just came up. Me, aged about 6 or 7 in a field with cows in it. I've NO idea where or when it was taken. The only two people who know the answers have gone - and it fucking hurts.
Day to day stuff is fine- I can cope a-ok with that. But now and again things like this crop up, and I hate it.
Chasing Clouds
Hiya!
It's been a while hasn't it? How are you? How's the family? Work ok? Good. Me? I've been keeping busy, you know.
Whilst driving home from work the other day, I was driving along a stretch of road that runs between two villages. I could see the edge of a cloud reflecting on the road, in front of me. I calculated that the cloud was moving at about 30 miles per hour. I slowed down, just so I could literally chase the cloud. It was - for me - beautiful. I love nature. It's magnificent.
We're going on our summer holidays this weekend. Up to Blackpool with my children in a caravan for a week. Staying at a site that we've stayed at many times before. Now that might seem dull and predictable, but it means that my children can have some freedom on the site. Freedom to come and go pretty much as they please. If they want to go up to the arcade for a bit - they can - because they know the site so (hopefully) they won't get lost.
Luke just sang a song to me the lyrics of which were along the lines of "I'm so happy, I'm so happy, I can't wait to see my brothers and sisters on my holiday because I love them. I'm so happy, I'm so happy". He is so happy and very very excited! Bless him.
My laptop has been an arse for me this last week. I've re-installed Windows on it three times. I'm getting a bit (lot) pissed off with it now.
My blogs are so so so shit it's upsetting me. I might mothball this effort until the new year. My one a day blog has completely sapped my words. Or - maybe I don't actually need this anymore. My head is still weird and messed up, but not AS messed up as it was when I started this blog. Maybe I'm "OK" now? Relatively speaking, of course.
Hmmmm.. Ok, so this might be the end of the road for anything close to a regular update on this blog.
Thanks for viewing & sorry I've bored you shitless. T'ra.
It's been a while hasn't it? How are you? How's the family? Work ok? Good. Me? I've been keeping busy, you know.
Whilst driving home from work the other day, I was driving along a stretch of road that runs between two villages. I could see the edge of a cloud reflecting on the road, in front of me. I calculated that the cloud was moving at about 30 miles per hour. I slowed down, just so I could literally chase the cloud. It was - for me - beautiful. I love nature. It's magnificent.
We're going on our summer holidays this weekend. Up to Blackpool with my children in a caravan for a week. Staying at a site that we've stayed at many times before. Now that might seem dull and predictable, but it means that my children can have some freedom on the site. Freedom to come and go pretty much as they please. If they want to go up to the arcade for a bit - they can - because they know the site so (hopefully) they won't get lost.
Luke just sang a song to me the lyrics of which were along the lines of "I'm so happy, I'm so happy, I can't wait to see my brothers and sisters on my holiday because I love them. I'm so happy, I'm so happy". He is so happy and very very excited! Bless him.
My laptop has been an arse for me this last week. I've re-installed Windows on it three times. I'm getting a bit (lot) pissed off with it now.
My blogs are so so so shit it's upsetting me. I might mothball this effort until the new year. My one a day blog has completely sapped my words. Or - maybe I don't actually need this anymore. My head is still weird and messed up, but not AS messed up as it was when I started this blog. Maybe I'm "OK" now? Relatively speaking, of course.
Hmmmm.. Ok, so this might be the end of the road for anything close to a regular update on this blog.
Thanks for viewing & sorry I've bored you shitless. T'ra.
Sunday, 1 August 2010
Repression
Hi
So my daughter is finally here for a visit, which is nice - I'm pleased. I know it's an age thing, but I hardly ever see her because she just camps out in her room with her psp chatting on facebook.
My hair is fucked. It's such a state. My lovely wife clippered me tonight because it was so bad. I have a ridiculous hairline which produces a V at the front and goes all wonky at the back. I am SO tempted to clip it right back, but I look like an AIDS victim when it's like that.
My children have no manners. They're not nasty, they just don't naturally use please and thank you. We've done loads for them the last few days and a little bit of gratitude wouldn't go a miss. I don't want them to be grateful for every little thing I do because some things you just do as a parent, but just occasionally to acknowledge hard work would be nice.
I like being nude. Or rather - I'm comfortable being nude. Nude around the house. Nude on holiday. I'll never shy away from a nude dare. I have no hang-ups with nudity. Now, I'm no adonis, not even close to one, but for me, nudity isn't about having the perfect body and showing it off. It's not about anyone else - it's about me. I cannot explain (and I've thought about it a lot today) why I feel so comfortable about nudity. As a child, I am not aware that my parents were care-free in anyway when it came to nudity. My lovely wife, however - does not feel the same. I don't mean she's prudish about her body because she's not. She just doesn't want to be nude as often as me! :-) I love every part of my wife's body and my view is "it's a shame" that she doesn't feel the same way I do. Hmmmm. One to ponder for me.
I'm tired and cranky and short tempered today. All in all - an arse to live with. Sorry to those sharing a house with me.
So my daughter is finally here for a visit, which is nice - I'm pleased. I know it's an age thing, but I hardly ever see her because she just camps out in her room with her psp chatting on facebook.
My hair is fucked. It's such a state. My lovely wife clippered me tonight because it was so bad. I have a ridiculous hairline which produces a V at the front and goes all wonky at the back. I am SO tempted to clip it right back, but I look like an AIDS victim when it's like that.
My children have no manners. They're not nasty, they just don't naturally use please and thank you. We've done loads for them the last few days and a little bit of gratitude wouldn't go a miss. I don't want them to be grateful for every little thing I do because some things you just do as a parent, but just occasionally to acknowledge hard work would be nice.
I like being nude. Or rather - I'm comfortable being nude. Nude around the house. Nude on holiday. I'll never shy away from a nude dare. I have no hang-ups with nudity. Now, I'm no adonis, not even close to one, but for me, nudity isn't about having the perfect body and showing it off. It's not about anyone else - it's about me. I cannot explain (and I've thought about it a lot today) why I feel so comfortable about nudity. As a child, I am not aware that my parents were care-free in anyway when it came to nudity. My lovely wife, however - does not feel the same. I don't mean she's prudish about her body because she's not. She just doesn't want to be nude as often as me! :-) I love every part of my wife's body and my view is "it's a shame" that she doesn't feel the same way I do. Hmmmm. One to ponder for me.
I'm tired and cranky and short tempered today. All in all - an arse to live with. Sorry to those sharing a house with me.
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