All You Need Is Love

It's December on Tuesday!!!!!!!

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It's wierd, I remember writing a very similar opening line around this time last year. A year has gone! where has that time gone? Oh right...

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Work * Closer* Taming Of The Shrew * Mr McBride * Scotland * Wales * Charity Walks * Sleepovers * Stock Takes * Trips To Thrapston * What The Butler Saw * Grandad * Weddings * New Babies * Long Good Byes * Count Downs * Club Nights * Blogging.

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It's been a very busy and 'uppy downy' year. As I propel myself into Christmas time (now officially renamed McBridey Time!) I've done that whole 'What have you done' moment and realised that this year has been pretty monumental.

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McBride's sister got married ~ The day I cried about 20 times. I even cried over how cute the cupcakes were. It was such a happy day.

Grandad ~ Well, you know the story there

Baby Wakelin ~ And all her hair!

Missing out on a promotion at work ~ And not being told until The other guy was in the business and I was on holiday

Mr McBride getting into drama school ~ And still keeping so bloody humble about it

Mr McBride being a million miles away ~ This still scares me every now and then.

Closer and Taming Of The Shrew ~ My first two 'grown up' roles.

Jamie Archer being voted out of X Factor ~ OK, so that's not really a major point in the year or indeed my life...but still.

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It was the last night of What The Butler Saw last night. I looked around the arts centre and saw all these faces. Each of them smiling, laughing, singing, living life. I had spent most of Saturday serving angry people (Christmas cheer not quite kicked in with them yet) then standing at a bus stop for 30 minutes in the poring rain. So when I got the The Arts Centre (Sorry, The Spring!) I got my hugs, I heard the laughter and I felt all that anger I'd felt earlier in the day dissolve.

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These people in this room I was standing in were keeping me going. Making each day that went past without my wonderful Mr McBride more fun filled. I've always felt that my friends are a lifeline, But last night, as we stood around, all singing along to The Beatles. I thought to myself

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'These people are beautiful.'

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Sorry, this has become a very gooey, soft centre post. I think the Quality Streets I've opened have has a chocolaty effect on my typing.

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Last night, I was in the greatest of company. I love my friends.

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If only he were here.

walking, innit!

Bet you were starting to lose hope weren't you?

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Never fear, for I am back! hurrah!!!

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I'm back already I'm diving into deep and meaningful stuff (kinda)

I met Steffi at lunch time today so we could go to Ted Baker and buy a lovely dress for a lovely ladies lovely birthday party. I walked into town, partly because I felt fit, but mainly because I am poor and have zero money.

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As I walked through North End, I looked around me. I seemed to be dodging buggies pushed by teenagers, moving for chavs (who seem to find it impossible to keep their arms by their sides) watching girls in clothes two sizes too small cram chips into their faces. I looked at these people, the people who live around me and thought 'I just don't fit in in the city anymore'

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There I am, walking tall, listening to Thin Lizzy, Wearing a cherry coke t-shirt, jeans and a blazer, sporting a beaten pair of Converses and a three dots beside each eye. I felt like such an odd one out. All around me was trackie bottoms, side pony tails, the word 'innit', screaming babies desperate to be heard over their swearing mothers, and an overwhelming smell of chip fat.

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Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that everyone I passed gave off this effect, I was just drawn to these people. People who obviously wanted the attention (why else would you tuck your trousers into your socks?. They looked at me like i was a freak for not having massive hooped earrings. They looked at me like I was crazy for having the ability to close my mouth when I've finished talking, They looked at me like I didn't belong.

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I don't think I, moreover, I don't think I want to

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I seem to be living in a part of Portsmouth where the C word is used as punctuation. It's 'well cool' to have an ASBO and 'you ain't no one if you done good at school' Well forgive me for having a go at my life. Excuse me if I don't have a child in tow. Sorry if I upset you because I can talk properly if I need to.

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I need to get out of this place!

Sleeping Patterns And Poppies

Apparently, Gary received a call this morning. From my Grandad. Who's got his mobile phone back and is now up and about. (well, he's out of bed and sitting in his chair.)

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That is possibly the best news I've heard all week. My grandad, who was given 2 weeks to leave 10 weeks ago, is back up, and calling people. I can't wait until we get a call informing us he's gone down to the chippy and would we prefer fish cakes or saveloy.

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Other news

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I woke up last night sitting on my sofa. I had fallen asleep in my bed but woken up downstairs. Normally, (when I'm not alone at night,) I rarely sleep walk. My bed is against the wall so in order to get out, I have to clamber over McBride and hope I don't tread on his leg. This highly skilled and very dangerous activity normally wakes my brain up and I come out of sleepwalking mode before i leave the bedroom.

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But now, McBride isn't here so I go off gallivanting most nights. About two weeks ago, I woke up in the fridge (not literally, I was leaning in and eating sausage rolls.) I've also ended up sat on the stairs and looking through my pyjama drawer.

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I think I get my sleep walking streak from Steffi. The woman who once went next door and asked for the toilet. I remember once she burst into my room at about 1 in the morning, picked me up, with a duvet and a pillow (please be aware I was 11 at the time) and carried me downstairs. She then grabbed Gary and pulled him back upstairs before shouting "Her ceiling, look!"

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So apparently my ceiling was falling in! I know, shocking stuff. A few nights later i woke up to find her sat on the end of my bed with her arms in the air (already freaking out at the sight of a crazy woman in my room.) I asked quietly what she was doing and she, quite calmly, answered "Just holding the ceiling up."

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Yeah, That's normal.

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Rest in Peace all those who've fallen.

Public Speaking

I've just spent my Saturday lunch time at a 7 year olds birthday party. Complete with 30 small children, lots of High School Musical decorations and a very tall man who would only answer to 'Adam The Magic Music Man' (I know)

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My niece has turned the ripe old age of 7. I was 14 when she was born. She's the first child close to me that I've watched grow up, I mean, she was only three about 2 months ago. Really? She's seven? She's really small.

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But that's not really the point of this blog.

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On the way home, I was walking behind a woman with a small girl (about 4) and a pushchair with two more children tucked inside. (well, I say tucked, they didn't have much clothing on considering the temperature) She was pounding along, too quickly for the poor little one beside her. Shouting down her phone

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This next bit has many blanks. Use your imagination if you will.

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Nah mush, you need to go down the f*****g bank and get my f*****g money out you **** (that word doesn't even need the beginning letter, I think you can guess) I needs it don't I? Got these (children) all f*****g weekend, Sharron's round tonight and we're gonna get well p****d ain't we. And I needs that money coz my f*****g benefit ain't come fruu (bit of dialect there for you)

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Now,. That's pretty much the jist. I may be paraphrasing. But this woman (well...) was shouting into her phone like this in public. with small children near by. I think there was a drug reference in there too, just for added shock value.

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Now, I'm not really one to give parent skill, what with the fact I'm not one myself. But I just thought to myself, 'how dare you talk like that in front of them' I couldn't figure out what in heavens name made her believe it was acceptable behaviour in public, let alone in front of children. This girl was pretty much showing these young'uns that it was perfectly fine to swear like that. Poor kiddies. It's not fair.

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What chance do those children have when they're brought up like that?

Stolen Weekend

So, I'm back. Reality SUCKS!!!

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When I blogged last, I was sat in his cosy room, wearing him warm hoody, listening to Neutral Milk Hotel and checking the clock desperate for it to be half nine. Now, I'm home, in my pyjamas, listening to Eastenders and desperate for it to be the 19th December.

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It was pouring down with rain when I left halls to meet him from his rehearsal. I stole his big blue coat, rammed my hands in my (his) pockets and stormed off down the high street. Surrounded by people in fancy dress, swigging from bottles and swearing in thick accents. It was novel to see the queen of hearts holding a Stella can.

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I got to the school and sat on the steps, watching as people fell out of the doors, tired from a long day of rehearsing. Then he came out. God, I'd almost forgotten that look he gives me when he sees me. (I know we'd already had 'the reunion' but that was rushed. I now had him all weekend.)

We got pizza and ran home in the rain. I didn't care that my socks were wet where my shoes were beginning to lose their waterproof...ness. I didn't care that people were demanding slices of pizza. I didn't care that I was soaked through to the skin. I was holding his hand. I was kissing his birth mark. I was running next to him.

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Glasgow itself is beautiful. On Saturday McBride walked me around the shops and along to the river. He already had places he called favourite spots. He already knew about shops I'd like, about shops I'd love. He was home now. This was it. And soon I'd be up here with him. I hope. We went to a tea shop called Vanilla Black and we drank tea and ate cake as the rain hammered on the window. When we got back to halls, he put on a song called Sweet Disposition (Temper Test) and we danced. It was perfect.

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On the bus back to Edinburgh we listened to Florence and the machine. We hadn't listened to it much together when he was down in Portsmouth. We compared our favourite bits. When the drums kick in on 'Blinding'. The line in 'Between Two Lungs' when she says 'I pray to god this breathe will last' And I never once let go of his hand.

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We had dinner with my folks that evening. A full on fresh fish restaurant. With sardines, wine, bass, crab and goats cheese on the menu, We were certain they'd charged us wrong when the bill appeared for £40. Oh well. They're loss. We then went back to Liz and Eric's for a sing star marathon. I think we fell into bad about 2 in the morning.

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Sunday morning was horrid. McBride told me the clouds were crying because I was leaving. He walked me to the bus stop. He got on the bus with me to George Street. He brought me a cup of tea from Starbucks. He got the bus with the three of us to the Airport. He held me so tight. I watched him get smaller as i went up the escalator. I could tell you I didn't cry, I could say i was strong. I could tell you that...

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My weekend was a stolen one, and it was taken away too quickly.