Posted in Thirty days of truth

Can we pretend that never happened?

Day two of the ‘thirty days of truth’ saw day twenty two being pulled from the envelope:

Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life

The first thing to say is that I try not to regret things too much – or at least I try not to wish that I had done things differently. The things that you do are the things that make you who you are. And I don’t really care how twee that sounds.

That said there is one thing that I wish I’d had the courage to do differently and that thing is moving to London….

I never wanted to live in London in fact, until I moved to London I actively didn’t want to live in London. The spanner in those particular works was that my boyfriend at the time lived in London and he didn’t want to live anywhere apart from London.

For the sake of clarity I say my boyfriend at the time when what I really mean is the love of my life. We were together for ten years in the end, and although we have been separated for two years I still love him with every fibre of my being.

We’d been having a long distance relationship for five years, and in some ways, that was beginning to take its toll. We had spoken about moving somewhere between London and Nottingham but he backed out of that in the end. As I said, he really didn’t want to live anywhere apart from London. When it came down to it, I decided I had to move to London or walk away from the relationship and I really didn’t want to do that.

I felt like I had to give us a chance. I tried to view it as a compromise on my part but looking back I know that it was in fact a sacrifice. I sacrificed my friends, my family and my life even though I knew, in my heart, that I was doing the wrong thing.

I knew I was doing the wrong thing from the moment I told my ex boyfriend that I had got a job in London at last. First there was a long silence and then he said ‘really’ in a tone of voice that made my heart hurt. Of course I asked him about it, but he said he had just been shocked. I tried to believe that for five years during which it became increasingly clear that he just didn’t love me. He wasn’t ready to love anybody.

On the day before I moved to London I had a long chat with my dad. He was worried and couldn’t understand why I had to move away. He said to me that when he met my mum he loved her so much he ‘would have moved heaven and earth to be with her’ and I said that was why I was doing it. Of course I missed his point.

I’m still in London (kinda), and I’ve no intention of leaving but I know I would have saved myself a lot of heartache if I had been brave enough to accept what was staring me in the face.

I suppose what I’m trying to say I don’t wish I hadn’t moved to London – I wish I hadn’t tried move heaven and earth for someone who I knew wouldn’t try to move heaven and earth for me.

Lots of love from WeeGee

Posted in Some thoughts about my journey

About the Olympic Games (kinda)

Yo! Whassuppp? (this is what happens to your vocabulary when you spend a week and a half of your life watching back to back Breaking Bad)*

I thought it was time I did an Olympics post, what with living in London and all…. This is the best I could do.

1. The Olympics and WeeGee’s ‘sense of occasion’

My mum says I have no ‘sense of occasion’ and I can’t really disagree with her, because it’s mostly true. I don’t usually understand ‘occasions’ so I really don’t see why it bothers her that I ‘always’ miss the first dance and the cutting of the cake at family weddings**

I mean I understand that a wedding is a big deal for the people involved and even to some extent for the guests. But all the ceremony is baffling to me – why do I have to be there to see people dancing if I already know they’re all happy and married and stuff? Maybe if I ever have a wedding of my own I’ll understand – although I don’t really understand getting married so it’s quite unlikely I’ll ever have a wedding of my own.

By the way, it’s not just weddings I don’t understand. It’s big occasions generally – like sporting events, and ‘events of national significance’, and award ceremonies, and great big huge concerts.

So why do I find myself so carried away with the Olympics? The Olympics is a big occasion but somehow, I find myself all interested involved. It’s most out of character. I went to see the torch relay twice and even cried the second time. Then I went to watch as the cycle road race as it passed through Kingston. Not only that, during the torch ceremony I high fived a policeman on a motorbike and cheered AND appropriated a flag for the cycling and waved it and cheered as some people on bikes whizzed past me.

I’m on leave this week and I’ve been watching all kinds of sports: people jumping off things, over things, people on horses, in boats, on bikes – people doing all kinds of things that I wouldn’t do.

And I’m enjoying it.

What’s that all about? Is it broken brain or is it brain getting fixed or does WeeGee just care about the Olympic Games all of a sudden? Who knows?!

Having said all that my sense of occasion has clearly not returned altogether… I decided not to bother going to see Bradley Wiggins cycle through Kingston today because Mr Hilarious texted to tell me that I wouldn’t be able to see a thing (because it was packed and because I was so wee). I saw him win on the TV but then I got distracted and decided to empty the bin. I missed the gold medal ceremony whilst I was emptying the bin……

2. The Olympics and being British

I’m not a patriot and I don’t understand flags. I think of myself as (in this order) a person; a Scottish person; a British person. The last two don’t matter to me very much. Oh, and I don’t understand flags. Maybe that’s because I’m a leftie (except I’m not really…..I don’t like labels either)

However – and here’s another contradiction for you – I am on team GB when it comes to the Olympics! What with all the people jumping off things, over things, on horses, in boats, on bikes, punching each other***, stabbing each other****, swimming and etc, etc I want team GB to win! Again – it’s most unlike me because I don’t tend to get tribal about such things.

Anyway all of this got me thinking about ‘my national identity’. As I’ve said I’m not a patriot and national identity isn’t terribly important to me but I can’t help being who I am – a person who lives in Britain. It occurred to me that I write a ‘very British Blog’. Most of my followers are British as is most of my traffic. I have interesting conversations with Brandic (a lovely lady from the U. S. Of A) about the differences in our common language and it strikes me that even if I don’t think of myself as British I just am. Nothing to do with patriotism or national pride – I just am.

So – now you have my thoughts on the Olympics. I’m going to the Olympic park on Friday to watch some hockey. Maybe my thoughts will change again after that. I’ll let you know.

Lots of love, WeeGee the Brit xx

*That’s not the worst thing that happens to your vocabulary but most of it is not civilised enough to be repeated.

**Because I’m either outside having a fag or, since I gave up, hiding in the toilets

***Boxing (which I hate)

****Fencing (which is interesting and useful especially if you do crosswords).

Posted in Welcome to my world

Tired of London, tired of life

Hmm. In attempt not to do a flaky I am writing a post. Hey – I’m not promising great things.

I’m back in London after a super duper weekend away. I can’t help but wonder what on earth I’m doing back in London, since I only ever came here accidentally and the ‘accident’ that brought me here is long since over and done with. Samuel Johnson said ‘when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life’. Apart from the being a man bit, I think I might agree: I am in London. I am tired of life.

I’ve had a weekend full of people – and not just people, but people who care and people who know me (Mr Wise teased me mercilessly because of the jitters, which is good, because it actually is very funny) and now I’m home to a flat full of nothing and nobody to care*

Maybe I’m just lonely.

Maybe I need my bed.

Maybe though, I need to go home. Wherever the hell home is?

……I knew it would be a strange post.


*Cue the violins