Chatting to Birthday Boy's friend at the pub last Friday night about our plans for the weekend.
He was going to take down his christmas tree.. oh we chuckled, then he asked me what I was up to.
"Tomorrow night I'm going out with Annie and a friend of our's Issy, don't know where then on Sunday, if it's not a late one, I'm going to go to church."
"Where are you going?" he said, standing back in surprise (as I guessed he would to be honest, maybe why I said it)
"Church!"
"Why????"
"Cos, well, I like the songs, but I might head to the Latin mass in Mayfair. The choir's really beautiful."
"So a concert for you then?"
"Exactly!"
A sizeable conversation ensued about religion. I told him when I found spritituality in my twenties, God for me became a word meaning the universe. I got into the habit of going back to church when I was putting my son through his holy communion. Birthday Boy's friend is a confirmed athiest but one who was strictly bought up like me. I like chatting with them. Well, with all sorts to be true.
So yeah, off I went to church this morning. Was late, bit rude I know but there we go. Amazing I made it at all.
Because it was in latin, they didn't sing one of my favourite hymns that was playing in my head this morning:
Make me a channel of your peace.
Where there is hatred let me bring your love.
Where there is injury, your pardon, Lord
Please help me kick that Nicoteeeeeeeeen
Oh Master grant that I may never seeeeeeeeeek
I haven't in mind to mess up the rest, the original lyrics are good though.
Why do I like going now?
In her book Angels in my hair, Lorna Bryne says she was told by angels that they are always to be found in churches. I find that very comforting. I took the opportunity to say a little prayer for Mr Carr, in thanks to his helping me.
I like the songs and music too!
Throughout the service Stiggers wouldn't stop whispering about all kinds of stuff in my ears so I couldn't tell you what the priest said in his sermon. Nor can I recall what she was rambling on about either so you're spared!
Rejoice!
Sunday, 16 January 2011
Saturday, 15 January 2011
The party's over!
I was invited to a party in a pub last night. A dad I know had hired out the top room for his half century celebrations. His band was going to be playing. I was going to pop my head in, say happy birthday, have a drink, go home.
My friend Annie called, we chatted for a while, quite a while! I suggested the party to her because I knew the music would be good.
When we got there it was finished! Other members of the band were playing to an empty room! We went downstairs to get a drink and there was birthday boy, fuming, because everyone had gone home early!
The pub allows children so when they play gigs, I can actually take my son. All the children got taken home, obviously much to this dad's rage who said other nights they stay up until midnight, so why not tonight??? I bought him a pint of ale. Happy birthday mate, you're still here!
It was a good night!
(There's a point in the next post where I really could have gone either way with what I continued to write, so I thought I'd write about this, it's not good to dwell and I always go away thinking of what I've just written! )
I am clear in my mind
I am clear in my mind
I AM CLEAR IN MY MIND
My friend Annie called, we chatted for a while, quite a while! I suggested the party to her because I knew the music would be good.
When we got there it was finished! Other members of the band were playing to an empty room! We went downstairs to get a drink and there was birthday boy, fuming, because everyone had gone home early!
The pub allows children so when they play gigs, I can actually take my son. All the children got taken home, obviously much to this dad's rage who said other nights they stay up until midnight, so why not tonight??? I bought him a pint of ale. Happy birthday mate, you're still here!
It was a good night!
(There's a point in the next post where I really could have gone either way with what I continued to write, so I thought I'd write about this, it's not good to dwell and I always go away thinking of what I've just written! )
I am clear in my mind
I am clear in my mind
I AM CLEAR IN MY MIND
Baaad Mother
Yesterday evening I finished posting, put on some 60's music, walked into my bedroom, walked out again, had to sit down and started editing a post for stigmum.
Title: Sometimes I think I don't deserve my child
I was then going to issue an apology. Sorry. Then issue a warning. Don't read this, I just need to puke. I can't do it in a journal, I have to do it here.
Not about smoking, about something else. Something else that happened.
The more I thought about how I'd write it, the worse I felt. I was flailing.
The phone rang. It was Annie. She'd just had a couple of drinks with guys from work and didn't want to go home. Where was I?
At home. Do you want to come round? I've been invited to a party later if we fancy it.
She arrived some 20 minutes later and huuuuuuuuge hug! All the huuuuger as The Flowerpot Men sang Let's go to San Francisco, where the flowers grow, so very hiiiiiiiiiigh!
I puked on her. I had to, flip. Not physically obviously, but I've not seen her since before christmas, and if I couldn't contain my thoughts in a journal, I wouldn't have been able to contain an hour with her without talking about it.
She off loaded her stuff back on me, it was, flipping marvellous!
So sorry reader, I can't share my shit, even though I'm 'anonymous', even though value could be drawn from it somehow, in a few years for me, sooner for someone else perhaps. Even so, I felt like a shit mother, a shit person, I felt I didn't deserve my child.
I felt all this on a day where three bloggers wrote about bad motherhood. Notsupermum, Pippa and Rosie Scribble.
They came at a perfect time for me. Perfect. Thank you, mammas. Notsupermum has set up the Good Enough Mother's Club having done away with her Bad Mother's Club, which I'd've dived into head first to be honest.
Her idea for the Good Enough Mother's club, is inspired and brilliant, in a society where we are not valued for what we do at all. Where all the choices we make are wrong, in that person's eyes.
Geez, is that why I reign back on what I could post? Maybe. The finger of judgement sometimes is so very pointy and I'm not feeling too proud of myself right now. Hence my desire to 'hurt' myself.
Barely anybody reads this, I shouldn't give a shit. Somebody I care about knows about the blog though and I don't want to hurt her, anybody, me.
So flip, yes, posts about motherhood yesterday, the normality of what it is, a soothing balm. Pippa's written I'm the best mother ever this morning, to go with her I'm the worst mother ever yesterday. Go Pippa!
Bad mother, good mother,
Good enough mother
Give us all a break mother
I'm going to have a shower mother
cos I'm a dirty stinkin' mother
who has nice shower gel
Title: Sometimes I think I don't deserve my child
I was then going to issue an apology. Sorry. Then issue a warning. Don't read this, I just need to puke. I can't do it in a journal, I have to do it here.
Not about smoking, about something else. Something else that happened.
The more I thought about how I'd write it, the worse I felt. I was flailing.
The phone rang. It was Annie. She'd just had a couple of drinks with guys from work and didn't want to go home. Where was I?
At home. Do you want to come round? I've been invited to a party later if we fancy it.
She arrived some 20 minutes later and huuuuuuuuge hug! All the huuuuger as The Flowerpot Men sang Let's go to San Francisco, where the flowers grow, so very hiiiiiiiiiigh!
I puked on her. I had to, flip. Not physically obviously, but I've not seen her since before christmas, and if I couldn't contain my thoughts in a journal, I wouldn't have been able to contain an hour with her without talking about it.
She off loaded her stuff back on me, it was, flipping marvellous!
So sorry reader, I can't share my shit, even though I'm 'anonymous', even though value could be drawn from it somehow, in a few years for me, sooner for someone else perhaps. Even so, I felt like a shit mother, a shit person, I felt I didn't deserve my child.
I felt all this on a day where three bloggers wrote about bad motherhood. Notsupermum, Pippa and Rosie Scribble.
They came at a perfect time for me. Perfect. Thank you, mammas. Notsupermum has set up the Good Enough Mother's Club having done away with her Bad Mother's Club, which I'd've dived into head first to be honest.
Her idea for the Good Enough Mother's club, is inspired and brilliant, in a society where we are not valued for what we do at all. Where all the choices we make are wrong, in that person's eyes.
Geez, is that why I reign back on what I could post? Maybe. The finger of judgement sometimes is so very pointy and I'm not feeling too proud of myself right now. Hence my desire to 'hurt' myself.
Barely anybody reads this, I shouldn't give a shit. Somebody I care about knows about the blog though and I don't want to hurt her, anybody, me.
So flip, yes, posts about motherhood yesterday, the normality of what it is, a soothing balm. Pippa's written I'm the best mother ever this morning, to go with her I'm the worst mother ever yesterday. Go Pippa!
Bad mother, good mother,
Good enough mother
Give us all a break mother
I'm going to have a shower mother
cos I'm a dirty stinkin' mother
who has nice shower gel
Just one more....
I've been smoking since I was a child. My entire adult life I identify with the cigarette. I was thinking this last night, turning the white stick between my thumb and finger, knowing that without it, not only must I breathe on my own, but I've got to stand on my own too. Isolation can be a killer.
I'm telling you this because last night I told you I would blog just one more post on smoking.
Ha ha!! Telling myself 'just one more, just one more...!'
Writing is good, writing is healthy, writing can help purge all kinds of things, writing can get you out of dark holes. Writing is not smoking (you hear me stiggers, you hear me???)
A cigarette will make me feel better. It has done this morning. I got that "marvellous feeling of peace and tranquility". But, Carr tells me, I'm addicted, "It is not really peace but the ending of aggravation."
Will I ever get out of the woods where the tobacco plants grow?
Last week I was walking perilously close to complete strangers in the street just so I could have a whiff of their smoke.
I can imagine that on a night out, I'll go and stand in the smokers compound and just oh, breathe it in! If I'm hurting in my life, I may really want to do this. If I want to reclaim the 'old me', (old me? Who's that then ey?!) likewise.
Stick me behind a bus though, and I'm pissed off, choking on it's fumes, suffocating.
It's different though isn't it. I choose to light a cigarette so I can choke. I choose to ride a bicycle but I don't choose to be stuck in traffic gridlocks, choking. The suffocation is the same thing though, innit.
Oh mercy. I have to change my entire thinking. I have to totally unidentify myself with this white stick.
Help is at hand!
"Be clear in your mind," Carr's telling me, "you won't escape from it unless you make a positive decision to do so." (Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth... again..)
"Do not attempt to stop smoking before you have finished the whole book." (Phew)
"As you read further your desire to smoke will gradually be reduced," (not my first time this...)
"Do not go off half-cocked; this could be fatal. Remember, all you have to do is to follow the instructions." (I'm actually onto chapter 7 - Brainwashing and the Sleeping Partner. Brainwash me, brainwash me!!)
Right, there are no fags in the house, so it's an opportunity for me to write another post (write what stiggers?)
This way I can hopefully disassociate blogging and smoking, writing and smoking. All my adult life remember, bar one year and one week. Last time I started again during my masters; writing. Writing/smoking goes hand in hand, love it! Though desire began in the student union bar one night not in the library one day... can I have a drag? Just one?
Right.
I am clear in my mind
I am clear in my mind
I AM, I AM CLEAR IN MY MIND
I'm telling you this because last night I told you I would blog just one more post on smoking.
Ha ha!! Telling myself 'just one more, just one more...!'
Writing is good, writing is healthy, writing can help purge all kinds of things, writing can get you out of dark holes. Writing is not smoking (you hear me stiggers, you hear me???)
A cigarette will make me feel better. It has done this morning. I got that "marvellous feeling of peace and tranquility". But, Carr tells me, I'm addicted, "It is not really peace but the ending of aggravation."
Will I ever get out of the woods where the tobacco plants grow?
Last week I was walking perilously close to complete strangers in the street just so I could have a whiff of their smoke.
I can imagine that on a night out, I'll go and stand in the smokers compound and just oh, breathe it in! If I'm hurting in my life, I may really want to do this. If I want to reclaim the 'old me', (old me? Who's that then ey?!) likewise.
Stick me behind a bus though, and I'm pissed off, choking on it's fumes, suffocating.
It's different though isn't it. I choose to light a cigarette so I can choke. I choose to ride a bicycle but I don't choose to be stuck in traffic gridlocks, choking. The suffocation is the same thing though, innit.
Oh mercy. I have to change my entire thinking. I have to totally unidentify myself with this white stick.
Help is at hand!
"Be clear in your mind," Carr's telling me, "you won't escape from it unless you make a positive decision to do so." (Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth... again..)
"Do not attempt to stop smoking before you have finished the whole book." (Phew)
"As you read further your desire to smoke will gradually be reduced," (not my first time this...)
"Do not go off half-cocked; this could be fatal. Remember, all you have to do is to follow the instructions." (I'm actually onto chapter 7 - Brainwashing and the Sleeping Partner. Brainwash me, brainwash me!!)
Right, there are no fags in the house, so it's an opportunity for me to write another post (write what stiggers?)
This way I can hopefully disassociate blogging and smoking, writing and smoking. All my adult life remember, bar one year and one week. Last time I started again during my masters; writing. Writing/smoking goes hand in hand, love it! Though desire began in the student union bar one night not in the library one day... can I have a drag? Just one?
Right.
I am clear in my mind
I am clear in my mind
I AM, I AM CLEAR IN MY MIND
Friday, 14 January 2011
Smoking and the social aspect
The social aspect to smoking is what I shall miss the most. I've met brilliant people as a smoker. Spoken to people I might ordinarily not, at work, outside a pub. People have spoken to me, who might ordinarily not. We're kindred folk we smokers, there's a level at which we understand each other.
My goodness, twas Nico Teen who got me my break in journalism, out there on a balcony chatting to a woman with connections who otherwise might not have given me the time of day.
Smokers are alright you know! As a non smoker I'm alright too! Off my head, as well demonstrated by hundreds of posts, but alright!
That's it, I'm done writing about smoking. I'll write about it one more time, after I've been to one of the Allen Carr workshops. A man left a comment on a post earlier asking me to send him my details and he'll send me a comp. How nice is that?! I've sent him an email so we'll see.
Got to make the changes hey? The first positive outcome to the changes I'm trying to make. From a man who might not have ordinarily given me the time of day!
Que sera sera ey Doris?!
You hear that stiggers!
Or have I heard you?
I've still no idea who drives this bloomin' blog!!
My goodness, twas Nico Teen who got me my break in journalism, out there on a balcony chatting to a woman with connections who otherwise might not have given me the time of day.
Smokers are alright you know! As a non smoker I'm alright too! Off my head, as well demonstrated by hundreds of posts, but alright!
That's it, I'm done writing about smoking. I'll write about it one more time, after I've been to one of the Allen Carr workshops. A man left a comment on a post earlier asking me to send him my details and he'll send me a comp. How nice is that?! I've sent him an email so we'll see.
Got to make the changes hey? The first positive outcome to the changes I'm trying to make. From a man who might not have ordinarily given me the time of day!
Que sera sera ey Doris?!
You hear that stiggers!
Or have I heard you?
I've still no idea who drives this bloomin' blog!!
My son and smoking
"Mummy, will you give up smoking in our new house?"
"I hope so honey."
"You said you would."
"Yes, I know but only if we get a council flat." I finish the conversation in a whisper.
We move in. The joy! The splendour! A two bedroom flat! With a balcony!
"Mummy, you said you'd give up smoking when we moved here."
"Yes, I know I did."
"So why are you smoking?"
Aaargh "Because I thought I could stop and I can't."
"Why not?"
Aargh "Because I'm addicted baby."
"What's addicted?"
"When you do something and you can't stop."
"Why don't you stop?"
Aaargh, because I don't want to "I will sweetie, I will ok, just not today."
I didn't tell my son I'd stopped smoking and mighty glad I didn't. In that week he didn't say anything although a couple of times he came out on the balcony when I was there, saw I wasn't holding Nico Teen and went back inside. Didn't say "You don't smell" when I'd go to give him a kiss at night. Maybe he knew and just wasn't saying.
I will not talk to him about it at all. I didn't tell anyone I had stopped. Not the guy who runs the coffee shop, no friends and I won't unless they ask, my son included. I'll tell him "I'm free!" (That's in Carr's audio!) Only you get bored to tears reader!!
I know the chances of my son smoking later on are quite high. Some children don't start because they've seen someone they love die because of it. I hope that if he does try it (which I hope he doesn't, obviously), he does like my youngest older brother did and decides it's not for him. Doesn't do like I did and coughs and splutters and pukes until he can smoke without doing any of those things. Oh yeah, I was determined!! My youngest older brother was the only member of my family not to continue. I'm the last to quit in my family.
All my friends who 'got me started' gave up years ago.
My son my sun my son. I'll read while you're away.
I love you.
"I hope so honey."
"You said you would."
"Yes, I know but only if we get a council flat." I finish the conversation in a whisper.
We move in. The joy! The splendour! A two bedroom flat! With a balcony!
"Mummy, you said you'd give up smoking when we moved here."
"Yes, I know I did."
"So why are you smoking?"
Aaargh "Because I thought I could stop and I can't."
"Why not?"
Aargh "Because I'm addicted baby."
"What's addicted?"
"When you do something and you can't stop."
"Why don't you stop?"
Aaargh, because I don't want to "I will sweetie, I will ok, just not today."
I didn't tell my son I'd stopped smoking and mighty glad I didn't. In that week he didn't say anything although a couple of times he came out on the balcony when I was there, saw I wasn't holding Nico Teen and went back inside. Didn't say "You don't smell" when I'd go to give him a kiss at night. Maybe he knew and just wasn't saying.
I will not talk to him about it at all. I didn't tell anyone I had stopped. Not the guy who runs the coffee shop, no friends and I won't unless they ask, my son included. I'll tell him "I'm free!" (That's in Carr's audio!) Only you get bored to tears reader!!
I know the chances of my son smoking later on are quite high. Some children don't start because they've seen someone they love die because of it. I hope that if he does try it (which I hope he doesn't, obviously), he does like my youngest older brother did and decides it's not for him. Doesn't do like I did and coughs and splutters and pukes until he can smoke without doing any of those things. Oh yeah, I was determined!! My youngest older brother was the only member of my family not to continue. I'm the last to quit in my family.
All my friends who 'got me started' gave up years ago.
My son my sun my son. I'll read while you're away.
I love you.
Stigmum is a non smoker!
Yeah! Woo! She's stubbed out her last cigarette and is now, not an ex-smoker, but straightaway a non smoker!! Remember that from my last reading of Allen Carr's book!
What I've just told you may or not be true. I may or may not have just gone to the shops and bought a pack of JPS for £2.43. I may or may not have told myself that under no circumstances must I buy my pal Virginia, with her papers and tips, otherwise I'm supersonically back where I started. I may or may not have told myself that I will finish my smoking 'career', end my drug addiction with a ten pack of Marlboro reds, the very pack I started with and remained loyal to for an exceptionally long time.
Me and stiggers picked up bad habits at Papier Mache Towers. With the boy at school we just smoked in the flat. Sometimes when I wrote about things I was fearful of writing I just chained. Even now, here with a no smoking in the flat rule (my own, I have a balcony, tis cool!), I'll step out with Nico Teen before and after each post. I've got to train myself not to do that.
So yeah. Non smoker! Do I miss it? I'm not allowed to miss it!
I'll try not to blog about it too much. Writing about it makes me want it.... Friend and foe ey, friend and foe. Got to get that out of my mind as well.....
What I've just told you may or not be true. I may or may not have just gone to the shops and bought a pack of JPS for £2.43. I may or may not have told myself that under no circumstances must I buy my pal Virginia, with her papers and tips, otherwise I'm supersonically back where I started. I may or may not have told myself that I will finish my smoking 'career', end my drug addiction with a ten pack of Marlboro reds, the very pack I started with and remained loyal to for an exceptionally long time.
Me and stiggers picked up bad habits at Papier Mache Towers. With the boy at school we just smoked in the flat. Sometimes when I wrote about things I was fearful of writing I just chained. Even now, here with a no smoking in the flat rule (my own, I have a balcony, tis cool!), I'll step out with Nico Teen before and after each post. I've got to train myself not to do that.
So yeah. Non smoker! Do I miss it? I'm not allowed to miss it!
I'll try not to blog about it too much. Writing about it makes me want it.... Friend and foe ey, friend and foe. Got to get that out of my mind as well.....
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