End of the week waffling

It's over, the file of doom is done and finished... and life looks a whole lot better and lighter now.  Actually I finished it just after lunch, then had to faff about for two hours, erm, looking busy before I could get away for the weekend.

Now, it's not a good thing to admit to sometimes spending time when you should be working just "looking busy", hell technically it's theft of company time and could get me into a shit load of trouble, but as I do my job, meet my targets etc to date I've kind of got away with the occasional "looking busy" time.  This afternoon I was not a good employee, I surfed, I wrote non work related things, I texted friends, I even read book excerpts on Dreamspinner..... seriously hoping no one looks too closely into my net usage time there then!  Yep, and now I feel guilty so on Monday I will probably go in early and make the time up..... see pathological "good girl", no really, stop laughing...


So, I got out of work all ready to start my weekend, and was perhaps a little more rash than I should have been when exiting the multi-storey car park... it's a secure car park, with roller shutters that retract when you approach... thing is... they retract slowly... a bit more slowly than I was driving this evening, and yes, in a queue full of other weekend escapees, I might just have, perhaps, rolled, ok, driven, my car into the roller shutter before it got high enough for me to duck the car under...... my levels of muppetry amaze me sometimes.  No damage to the car or roller thankfully - I've only been using the car park a month and I don't want to be banned!

So, this evening is Pizza evening, or it will be when I get myself organised and make it....

As for the weekend, tomorrow I have to do an assignment (the levels of competence displayed by those that run the course amaze me - course started 1st Sept, materials arrived 24th Sept, tutor wants first assignment in draft for 3rd Oct... joy...).  I haven't even plugged in the flash drive to find out what I need to do... i have a feeling it's an assignment on matrimonial law (yeah cos that's relevant to my job.. not)

Then on Sunday I have to do housework, lots and lots of housework, not only because the house is in fact a complete tip, but because on Friday next I have visitors coming for a week... which I am mega excited about, but it does mean that I have to display some semblance of cleanliness.


Right, pizza, and possibly some vodka, and ice cream, but not with the vodka, hum, no maybe, i think I've got some toffee vodka somewhere....

Friends are wonderful things...

Well I am still working on the file of misery and need to keep life pink and fluffy - probably with a bit of sparkle thrown in (which is so just not me). 

Luckily two of my closest friends recognise that I won't actually come out and ask for help, they know that just know that sometimes I need to be distracted, or just reminded that I am not alone and that things are going to be ok.  (I say closest friends - but one lives over 90 miles away, the other close on 400 miles away...)

Last night was grim, I managed eventually thanks to the timely arrival of a couple of books I'd ordered, to distract myself ... in the last 24 hours I have read Drawn Together (Z. A. Maxfield) and A Strong Hand (Catt Ford) - which may on first glance seem an odd choice to read given where my head was, but no, it wasn't it was a book about safe consensual fun between participating adults which is a million light years away from what I was working on.  I also re-read Carpe Jugulam, which is one of my favourite Discworld books .... i got about 4 hours sleep in all.

So, knowing that I was going to be facing the same at work today at 7 am my phone rang and I was played the theme tune to the muppets, with a background of a lot of giggling by one of my friends.  She knows damn well that this damn tune gives me the worst earworm going, and yes, it took till 11.30 am to drown it out my head, but it stopped me focusing and obsessing.

Throughout the day she and t'other friend have sent me text messages, DM's on twitter and then this evening both have phoned for a natter.  Now, considering that I know that they are both really busy and have have families and other complicated stuff to juggle that they made time for me has left me with the best sort of warm and fuzzy feeling (hell it may even have made me sparkle after all), they may be a long way away distance wise but when it comes to friendship physical distance doesn't really count.

I might actually sleep properly tonight.

Not so light and fluffy in here tonight....

I love my job, I love the people I work, with the type of work I do, but sometimes, just occasionally, I hate it too. 

Today has been one of those days.  As part of my job, I have to read things I'd rather not have to - in particular, information about cases of historical physical, emotional and sexual abuse, which usually involve children.  The powers that be make sure that no one gets allocated one of these files to deal with too often and some people, particularly those with their own kids are exempt.  It's very hard to read, particularly as you know it's not just a story - and more so because it's not an accident either.

Unfortunately, because of the way my mind works I visualise things very easily.  I do it with books all the time, with a good book I can almost see the story when I am reading, I can shut my eyes and replay a scene from a book in my head (which now i think of it is probably why I am not that flapped about film or TV - it's never quite as good as my visual imagination), or I can listen to music and interpret the lyrics into a picture sequence in my head.  When I'm writing, my characters don't just speak to me, they show me what they want me to write. 

Downside to this is that this also means that the things I don't want to see in my head sometimes creep in there and there isn't anyway easy to get them back out.  This happens every single time I get one of these files and my head is not a happy place to be right now.

Tonight I am feeling a little fragile and want to scrub the back of my eyeballs and my brain until the images have gone.  I need a hug.  As that's not possible though I will go put the stereo on loud, have a very long hot shower and break out some of my favourite shower gel, then go curl up under the duvet with a light and fluffy book to keep my mind of it. 

Waxing Lyrical...

Too tired tonight to post anything of angsty complication or the like.  Work has left me brain dead - save for the 2 hours I spent in our LGBT Diversity Group meeting this afternoon (in which we celebrated that our Stonewall submission had gone in safely and reminisced that the group is nearly 3 years old now (we also laughed at the positive feed back we now get - as opposed to the initial reaction when the group was set up, which our chairperson said was in effect several senior bods saying "What, your going to let the firms gays and lesbians frolic in the boardroom and eat cake on work time"... and yes, sometimes we do have cake, not so much of the frolicking though)

So, instead, I thought, I would post the song whose lyrics have given me one hell of an earworm and a cast of characters which I am hoping to scribble out my head for NaNoWriMo

The song is Keep Yourself Warm by a  (very) Scottish group called Frightened Rabbit (who are rapidly heading up to be one of my all time favourite bands, particularly to see live).  The lyrics that caught me are (at least i think they are, online says differently, but with Scott's accent and the speed it's hard to be sure)...

The flashing white lights been turned off, you don’t know who’s in your bed

It takes more than fucking someone you don’t know to keep warm

Do you really think that for a hearts beat you’ll find your love in a hole

No you won’t find love in a, won’t find love in a hole

It takes more than fucking someone to keep yourself warm

One of "those" days

Oh dear, today has been, erm, interesting.... I should have realised it wasn't going to be the most productive of working days before it even started. I sleep badly at the best of times but last night was classic; restless sleep, weird dreams and waking regularly.  Ok, so yes, possibly self inflicted as I was "researching" yesterday evening for a story I have been planning out for a while and, courtesy of some gay friends who have bravely put up with me asking highly personal and embarrassing questions in exchange for food and alcohol, I ended up flicking around various gay porn sites until it got far too late for me to be still awake.

Then, on the way to work, a couple of characters who'd like a story combined with the radio station I was listening too, put the picture in my mind of the devil (who for some reason was fairly young, reasonably good looking and working in his office) in my mind, as he lounged behind a large desk with his up resting on it, leaning back in a swivel chair with his hands behind his head whilst crooning "Demons Are Forever" a la Shirley Bassey....

Having safely beaten back my imagination for the morning I tweeted quite innocently the fact I'd had to remove 9 mice from my bed this morning..... to which I got the response "Euwwww!"  I hastened to explain that they were toy mice, placed their by the cat, and happened to mention what they were made off.  Well apparently I now have "fetish mice"... now I've no idea what a fetish mouse is, but apparently it's because some are leather and some have bells on... I didn't mention the ones made of rope, or with feathers attached... probably a good job! 

So yes, I share my bed with naked cats and fetish mice... and this is not to mention that one of the cats has a bad habit of stealing visitor's underwear...  I learnt a long time ago not to let the dogs share my bed (courtesy of my then only dog who, concerned because of the noises I was making, knocked my then bed mate off of me, pinned him down on the bed and growled.... bed mate wasn't amused, particularly as the dog wouldn't get off, not helped by me dissolving into hysterics next to him); however, making the cats stay out the bedroom is impossible as the little sods have learnt to open the door or, if that fails, attack the door till I give in....

Anyway, where was I, oh yes, so I negotiated this afternoon's work... I say work, I got a bit distracted by the interweb and will probably have to try and be very good to avoid the "list of 100 really naughty employees who spend to much time on the net" this month.  When I got home I fed the dogs, went to get changed and came downstairs to find splatters of blood all over the floor.  Eeep! Auto panic.. grabbed the dogs in turn, couldnt' find out where the blood was coming from (they were by then all looking at me gone out) then realised that, erm, actually, it was me that was bleeding, quite badly in fact, as I appear to have cut my finger tip rather impressively when sorting the dogs tea... i am now plastered.. no, elastoplasted not drunk, to try and stop it leaking.

Oh, and I melted a milk bottle whilst cooking tea.....

I may give up on the rest of this evening and hide

It seemed like a good idea at the time...

Well, in a momentary lapse in sanity (again!) I've signed up to do NaNoWriMo this year.... because yes, a full time job, the third and final year of my studies and looking after the various critters whose every whim I am here solely to cater for is not enough, no a 50,000 word novel in a month, yeah, sure, bring it on....

Actually, I think it's probably a good idea to try and get rid of at least one set of voices from my head before they drive me to distraction

So, in the past I've written fan fiction - GO, cross over GO/sci-fi, Contemporary children's but based on someone else's series, I've also written original work, some short stories (mainly historical/time slip children's stories) and a young adult sort of fantasy novel (that 2 years later still has no title, and which despite 5 rounds of editing I am still too much of a chicken to submit)

Unfortunately, my team of professional naggers, erm, cheerleaders, no, beta readers are not going to be happy to know that I can't write the 2nd installment of the book as I have to write something that I haven't started and I've got around a dozen scenes already done for book 2.

I am better at writing fantasy - hell if i make a huge mistake I can blame the magic and say it's meant t be like that, but I have a hankering to write a M/M contemporary novel and in fact have been researching this for a month or so (oh that's so a post for another time).  I also have some other characters lurking in my brain, including a rather sweet if exceptionally demanding dryad who ain't going to bond with the Spellcaster's daughter, no way, if all his sister dryads can have a nice young man, why can't he?

We shall leave aside the idea that came to me more recently on a re-working of little red riding hood, where in fact the wolf is in love with red riding hood and protecting her from the woodcutter.....

If anyone wants to friend me on NaNoWriMo - i am registered as Kate - Polipetl

"But you don't look like you'd have a tattoo...."

It's no secret I like tattoos, to me its a mixture of artwork and self expression.  I like to see tattoos on both men and women, though not so fond of the cutesy, cartoon or very garishly bright.   I've recently been spending a lot of time looking at various designs for a character who has half sleeves, back and shoulders covered in an oak leaf vine design which changes colour from a coppery brown through to a pale green depending on the season - yes, I know, but he's a dryad so the colour change can happen for him.

However, it always seems to amaze people that I have a tattoo myself... and what's more a visible one, that isn't covered up.  That said, most people don't notice it - it's not particularly small, it just doesn't scream at you.

Wrist tattoo design

Said tattoo, a Celtic band circling my left wrist, I had done when I was 19 and I've never regretted it.  It's never cost me a job, or a relationship, it's part of who I am. 

What's more I have a kind of freaky immune system which means that I can't wear jewellery, well not unless I want to break out in hives... I do have my ears pierced (erm, a few times) but can only wear surgical steel, which is ok for earrings but not so hot for decorative jewellery.

So for a while I've wanted another one - hell I came out of the tattoo parlour having had it done on such a high that I wanted another one almost straight away.  However, knowing that I have a really really bad impulse control I set myself some guidelines pretty much immediately.  Usually I am of the "see it, want it, get it" mindset - yep, working on that one, sometimes I'm good, sometimes not so much. I've spent a lot of energy channelling my focus into impulses that are non harmful, non permanent and possibly won't kill me - which could explain my shower gel addiction (current tally of bottles in the bathroom stands at 16 - i said I was still working on it didn't I), but with something as permanent as body art I decided I had to want the same design in the same place for 2 years before I went a head and got it.

For a while I'd been toying with having a Celtic knot on the inside of my ankle, but I have psoriasis on my legs and am too worried that it will cause an outbreak... not to mention, I really don't like people seeing my legs because of the scarring. 

So, a while back one of my dogs crossed the bridge after having been with me for close on 15 years, and I got to thinking that I'd like something to remember her by.  I've also since discovered that her daughter has also crossed the bridge, so it seemed more appropriate that I have a permanent memory.  So, hopefully, I shall be getting a set of paw prints for each of my girls on the inside of my left arm in the very near future.  I am hoping paw prints that look something like this:

It's the end of the world as we know it....

Tonight I was going to have minor angst over actually doing NaNoWriMo this year - if only to get rid of one of the erm, 5! WIPs I have on the go at the moment... but then I got distracted.

As I pottered round the kitchen trying to check my e-mails whilst not burning tea or tripping over the dogs I noticed a tweet, REM announcing they've called it a day...

Ok, yeah, just another band, but hell, this is the first band I ever got into, and I mean in a big way, as in total fan girl, but then again they've formed a major part of the soundtrack to my life for probably a little over 25 years and their music has helped me over some totally shitty times in my life.  They are the band who started me on my obsession with lyrics.  Even to this day the album "Murmur" is my driving album. 

I know that it was kind of inevitable it would happen some day, but I'd hoped to see them live again before it happened.

So, I shall go reminisce and leave you with one of my favourite tracks

To Kindle or not to Kindle, this is the question...

I'm torn, part of me, the part attracted to little shiny electronic gadgets that make life easier and a lot more fun, thinks purchasing a Kindle would probably be a good idea.  Then there is the other part of me, you know, the one that is the reason that I have no working washing machine, blew up 3 microwaves in a year and can't have a toaster in the house just in case I set the place on fire (ah, yes, fire, erm, me and, a subject for another post maybe).

That and I suck at making decisions.... so I decided to try and list some pros and cons...

So, in favour of me having a Kindle
- After the initial purchase the books I down load are cheaper than paperbacks
- There is a huge amount of free stuff I can get on a Kindle
- There are quite a few "books" I'd quite like that are only available as downloads
- My bookshelves will thank me for not putting more books on them
- It's small and lightweight and can come to work with me - and no one can see what I am reading which will negate the whole embarrassed colleague situation when you tell them your reading M/M erotica with your egg mayo butties.

Against having a Kindle

- I have no willpower when it comes to buying book and "ooh, cheap download" said too many times a week is dangerous when I don't have the physical proof of a book in front of me

- The initial outlay would be substantial - might as well get the best or I'll be in the same "Eep!! not enough memory" I had over my first MP3 player

- I like books - yeah, i know, technically a download is a book, but I can't stroke it, or smell the paper (ok, stopping that one in case of strange looks with raised eyebrows)



Devil Dog and Leader of the CDS
(the horns, pitchfork and forked tail don't show
up on photographs)



- What if it falls victim to the Canine Demolition Squad.... I've witnessed their amazing destructive powers over small electronic gadgets.... could I survive if they destroyed my Kindle and I lost all my books.

Argh, i don't know......... Maybe I'll buy some more books whilst I think about it

In which thinking things through first sometimes helps

When we were young my sister and I frequently heard a phrase from my Nan... “There’s no such word as can’t”, usually uttered after we’d used it to try and get out of something.

In my last relationship it became something I heard a lot, either to my face... “You can’t do that” “I’ll do that you can’t”, etc.  My friends, and even members of family, heard it.. “Oh, no, I do that, Kate can’t.” It wasn’t just physical things that yes, I admit, I sometimes can’t do; it was about everything.  Thing is, if you are told you can’t do something for an extended period of time, even if you know damn well somewhere deep down that you can, you start to believe it. 

 

Why yes, sometimes this is me

So, I came out of the relationship subconsciously believing that “I can’t” applied to a lot of things that in fact “I could.”  The upshot of this is ..... I now try very hard not to say “I can’t” to anything.

Trouble is, sometimes, just occasionally, I should perhaps think a bit longer about how I am going to do things before I tell myself I can do something..... Which leads on to why I have an impressive set of bruises on my right arm and leg.

When I went to shower this morning I switched it on, then went to close the shower curtain, which looked a bit manky... which is something I can’t stand *shudder*.  So, I switched off the shower and took down the curtain, no problem.  Then I tried to put up the spare curtain.  It wouldn’t co-operate with me, the hooks wouldn’t go on the eyelets properly.  Time was passing and I needed to get on and get ready for work, so I got in the bath tub to give myself a bit more height.. Yes, the bath tub, the wet bath tub...

I got three eyelets and hooks matched up, then lost my footing, went arse over tit and landed sprawled in a very ungainly heap in the middle of the bathroom floor...



One half of the feline audience



My feline audience marked my fall at about 8 out of 10 on the amusement scale. 

Tonight, my bruised and battered body is relaxing with medicinal vodka and I will keep telling myself that whilst there might be no such word as “can’t”, that perhaps I should think about things a bit more before I jump in and try do something.

My not having to come out experience

Recently two of my 73 year old mother’s pupils (she is retired but tutors privately) have come out to her, before they told their own families, and in both case they are unsure how their families will react.  This surprised her. Not only that their families may react badly, but that they would chose her over their own families, which started us discussing today my own “coming out”, or rather the fact that it wasn’t anything I ever had to do, at least as far as my parents were concerned.

I told her about the coming out stories I’d read on the net and how I’d discussed the subject with gay friends, I think it surprised her that for the majority of the time coming out to family and friends has not been overly pleasant experience.

It is thanks to my parents that my own experience couldn’t have been more different.  In fact, I never had to go through the whole, “mum, dad, I’m gay” kind of conversation, actually I don’t recall making any sort of announcement about it to my family. 

My parents have always been extremely liberal – we were the kids who didn’t have rules or curfews.  Whilst my friends growing up were getting grounded, falling out with their parents etc my sister and I knew that so long as we said where we were going and who we were with that was fine.  Ok, you got yourself into trouble you were expected to do what you could to get yourself out of it, but if you were really stuck they’d always help you out.  Yes, everyone wanted our parents.

My mother was always extremely open and honest with us – you asked a question you got the truth, and with no sugar coating.  So far as sex was concerned, once we’d reached legal age she said that she would  rather we were safe, comfortable and protected so boyfriends/girlfriends were welcome to stay over.

My dad is this same – on one occasion I turned up at his house to stay over with a girlfriend who had never met him before and he proceeded to freak her out completely when doing a tour of the house by telling us that we should take the opportunity to share the shower in the wet room because it was more fun for two.  

See, the whole boyfriends/girlfriends thing, it was just never an issue for my parents.  We had gay family friends for as long as I can remember, and we’d always been told it doesn’t matter who you are with, male or female, so long as you are happy and that is what you want. So I just went along with that, and no one minded, in fact mum is quite proud of the fact that she has a gay daughter. 

I didn’t really see it when I was younger, but I am extremely lucky with my family, but I don’t think I say thank you or tell my mum I love her as often as I should.  I shall put that right whilst I can.

A minor wobble to round off the day

It's nearly 11 pm and possibly far past my bed time, but for once I've been indulging in a social life and have just got back from seeing Othello at the Crucible Theatre with a group of friends from work.

It's been a while since I've seen a Shakespeare production and I really enjoyed this adaptation.  Dominc West (from The Wire) played Iago magnificently and the other stand outs were the two main female parts - Desdemona (Lily James) and Amelia (Alexandra Gilbrath).  My only gripe would be with Clarke Peters who played Othello himself, who sometimes seemed to mumble over his lines as spoke extremely quickly in places.

Unfortunately, I managed to get a parking ticket which wasn't part of the plan.

So, why am I not in bed.... well, mainly because I am having a wobble, not a major wobble, just a little one.  Tomorrow I have to go enrol on the third and final year of my course.. which after I complete (and sit and pass an exam) means I will be qualified to do my job.  Ok, so not a big issue, really, honestly.. but, actually it kind of is.

I went to university at 18 and thoroughly enjoyed myself, well outside of my course, the thing was, I screwed up my A Levels big time and was desperate to get out of home so just went to the first University that would take me with the pathetic grades I had, and I ended up studying chemistry.  I completed the course, save for one little thing, I didn't bother to turn up for my final exams.. yeah, I know, looking back it was bloody stupid, but by then I'd already decided that that wasn't what I wanted to do with my life. 

To put off real life, I managed to elected to the Student Union Exec for 12 months, then realised I had to find a job and drifted into Law, where I've been ever since.  When the big life change happened 3 years ago it meant a new job, which came with the condition that they paid for and I studied to get my professional qualification.

Which means, tomorrow, I have to drive 2 hours each way to enrol on my final year, oh and sit a compulsory 5 hour module which basically involves how to fill in forms.  I don't want to go.  Being professionally qualified to do something seems awfully final, like that's it, I've finally grown up and got a proper career.  I'm just not sure that it's what I want to do with my life.

I know I am being silly about this, I don't have to do this for the rest of my life, but right now there is only me here and I kind of miss having someone to tell me to pull myself together and get a grip, because I am not doing a brilliant job of telling myself.

That said, this feeling is very similar to when I enrolled for my first year of this course... at which time I went into denial and melt down and wrote an 86,000 word novel instead of getting on with my assignments.... who knows, I might get a second book out of it!

Right, stop it, go to bed, now.....

Aural Stimulation

As someone who spends a lot of time reading and a fair amount of it writing, it’s not unexpected that I have a bit of a geek thing going on over words.

For me it’s not just the written word, spoken, and particularly sung, words get to my emotions very easily.  I have a thing for accents too, particularly Scottish accents; and the speaker or singer can be either male or female.  If the accent is right I will just melt a bit (or have to stop the car, shut my eyes and just listen in the case of a radio interview yesterday). This could also explain why a lot of my favourite bands are Scottish (other Celtic languages do the same thing, but not to the same extent).

I can’t abide silence and have music playing pretty much the entire time I’m conscious, whether it’s the radio on in the background, cd’s in the car, or my mp3 player which I listen to the entire time I’m working. In fact I frequently find myself side tracked from working to type out lyrics to the songs I’m listening to.

 I find inspiration in the lyrics, particularly those which tell a story or at least hint at a story.  It doesn’t have to be the story that the creator of the lyric intended, my mind can spin the story so that I can actually see the scenes play out in my head.  Two of my current WIP’s came about through three or four lines in a song and in one they form the background to the way one of the characters acts.

Sometimes though, I just end up with an ear worm.  Today that earworm has been The Doves song There Goes the Fear.  I have yet to work out why.

So, why blog?

I was going to put this in the intro post, but, erm, yes, well I rambled quite a bit longer than I’d intended to.

Actually “why blog?” is a bit of a misleading question as I am not a blogging virgin, it’s more a case of “why blog now?” or “why blog again?”

My last blog ran from 2003 to about 2007, you won’t find it anywhere as after I did something I’m not very proud of (namely being a completely thoughtless bitch and discussing members and other moderators of a web site I’d been asked to help out with, not on my own blog but on a blogging site that could be read publicly), anyway, in a fit of probably part anger with myself, part frustration and part shame I deleted everything, the entire blog, membership of several forums etc and for a while I went into Internet hibernation. 

At the same time my home life imploded and got about as messy as it possibly could (split up with partner, but stuck in house we couldn’t sell and she then moved her new girlfriend in....). I eventually upped sticks and moved across the country to try and re-start my life.  I hadn’t realised what an uphill task it would be as in the 7 years we’d been together I’d managed to completely lose my own identity.  That was 3 years ago now and things are starting to look up and I’m finding or rather remembering who I really am.

I used to use my blog as a sounding board, to record thoughts and feelings, to rant and to laugh.  I’ve always kept a paper journal for writing down those thoughts that strike somewhere about 3 am and have to be put down somewhere if not just because if they stay in my head sleep doesn’t happen. It appears that I’ve got more I want to say though now, and feel like sharing again (well if anyone is actually interested enough to read this).

So, I will blog, probably not daily, definitely not always seriously.  Amongst the “me” posts, I am hoping to start doing some book reviews, I will probably also post songs/lyrics that inspire me or that cause the voices in my head to whisper stories they’d like me to tell for them. I will probably also waffle about slightly off the wall things.

One thing I won’t do is bad mouth people or use peoples own names or anything that might identify them... I think I’ve learnt my lesson and hopefully grown up a bit since the last blog.

Who on earth is this person?

*clears throat*

Ok, first post, so, introduction.... Who am I?

This is not me!

Well, society’s definition – I am a middle aged, professional, fat, disabled, lesbian..... there now if you’re still with me and haven’t run away already I’d better add something.... I hate labels, labels put people in boxes, people don’t belong in boxes, people should be free to be whoever they damn well please to be.

So, breaking it down, middle aged, erm, yeah, technically I suppose, trouble is mentally I’m probably still somewhere in my early 20’s on a good day (though some may say I tend to round out mentally at about age 16).

Professional.., I have a full time job, in a law firm, so I guess you could say that, but, as yet, I am not actually qualified to do the job I am doing .... working on that one. Trouble is, I am not sure that what I am doing now is actually what I want to do when I grow up – ah yes, that not really being able to act my age again.

Fat, well, yes, no getting away from that one, over average size, but hey, guess what still human, still have feelings, still have emotions, wants and needs... Sometimes it’s difficult for people to see past the outside, but as I’ve been overly large my whole life I’ve learnt that this is their problem if they can’t see past it.

Disabled, physically yes, I have rheumatoid arthritis and a while ago i injured my back quite badly when someone pulled a chair out from behind me and I fell backwards.  Sure, I can’t run, climb walls, roller skate or such like, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t a million things out there I can enjoy.

Lesbian, yep, woman who loves other women, though I am not apparently obviously a lesbian....  Apparently I shouldn’t have long hair, wear skirts, like alternative indie music, read M/M romance/erotica etc, etc... Obviously the people who have told me this feel that I should be more stereotypical.... oh wait, the stereotype was created by straight people!

Because I got into a bit of a funk about these labels I asked some friends to describe me in one word... apparently I am.... caring, intelligent, stubborn, eccentric, creative, warm, bossy and because one of my friends can never stick to just one word... mad as a box of frogs. 

What else....I will read anything put in front of me but my preferences are for crime fiction, M/M romance/erotica, fantasy, science fiction, historical novels and children’s/YA – particularly GO.  The only thing I actively dislike reading (apart from anything work related ) is standard Chick Lit... oh I don’t go a bundle on F/F lit – but mainly cos it appears to be either trying too hard to be intelligent or aimed as stroke fic for straight me.

I also write and listen to a lot of music, I am a bit of a lyrics nerd and a lot of my stories will grow out of one or two lines from a song that lodge in my head and whisper to me.

Ok, enough rambling for now.. thanks for reading if you’ve stuck through to the end!