Saturday, 11 June 2011

Meet Alice.

Sometimes you read a blog that truly moves you, one that makes you realise your posts are just mindless waffle.

This is Alice.

She is 15 and has terminal cancer.

She started writing her blog for her family, to share with them her bucket list.... and the world went crazy.

Check it out.

Thursday, 9 June 2011

(Repost) Twenty Facts about Me...

"One of the most difficult things is not to change society but to change yourself" Nelson Mandela.
1. I am 29 Years Old....I have no boyfriend, no children and I still live with my parents (but saving to buy my own place).
2. I am well traveled. I have camped in a tent on the Serengeti.

3. I have nearly died (Twice) Once when I was 6 months old and once when I was 10 years old.....You would think I would appreciate life more.

4. I have never had a man love me back.

5. My favourite person in the world is my Nana...She loves me unconditionally.

6. I love to be creative but rarely am....I love painting and photography.

7. I can sing.....well....but no one knows.

8. I still suck my thumb...

9. I am a nurse....I have stuck my finger in places that would make you feel sick.

10. Men make me nervous.

11. I have never had a one night stand.

12. Sometimes I feel so lonely I think I have burnt a hole in my chest.

13. I secretly wish I was the leading lady in a musical.

14. I think I may have taken the wrong path in life.

15. I avoid people with children because I want them so badly, but I think I never will.

16. I have the best family in the world.

17. I have lost more friends in the last year than I care to count.

18. At night I stick pillows in my back so I feel like someone is cuddling up to me....

19. I am a couch potato.

20. I think & love far too much.

Thursday, 2 June 2011

Changing Room Etiquette..

I went back to the gym today for the first time after my night shifts finished and oh did my eyes bleed....

Honestly, I always thought there was some kind of unspoken changing room etiquette that is instilled in you from a very young age, like the rules for boys at urinals....You know..."NEVER make eye contact" "NEVER use the empty urinal next to someone else if there is another one free" etc. Maybe its just my Englishness? After all everyone knows that Germans are excessively naked, but I am English and therefore I expect minimal nakedness in the changing room. Honestly those individuals who are excessively naked and proud, just kind of freak me out.

So there I was innocently drying my hair, when I couldn't help but notice the overly naked woman stepping out of the shower, towel in hand, heading right for me. When I say naked, I mean not a stitch, in the buff, I could see EVERYTHING and it wasn't a pretty sight....

Instinctively I looked away, but as she proudly marched around the changing room completely in the buff, it got me thinking....Do women get to a certain age and no longer care? Or is she just trying to screw with the minds of the young?
Like, "Take a long look bitch, this will be you in 50 years!"
Yes, it was an all female changing room, yes, we all have them and yes, I am a Nurse and therefore have seen naked bodies in all shapes and sizes....but this was just excessive, surely the towel she had in her hand would have been better around her body??

Ok, so women do to get their bits out to dry themselves, but isn't it the rule that you turn away from random strangers and avoid all eye contact??? Isn't it the rule that nakedness is acceptable while changing quickly, but wandering around the changing room for approximately 20 minutes, in the absolute buff is just plain weird??

Try as I might to avert my eyes, after seeing her wrinkly ass for approximately the fifth time in a very short space of time, that little voice inside me started to sound a little irate...Honestly Love, put some clothes on! Surely you have located your locker by now? Is it really necessary to walk back to the shower...again? Would you like me to show you what normal people do with towels on exiting the shower? Oh and you are aware there are children in here!...Right??

After I had dried my hair, got dressed and located my friend, we made a beeline for the door....
As we exited, a shiny white ass caught my eye as it wobbled past me (again).....
I so wanted to smack it!
How wrong am I!!

Wednesday, 1 June 2011

Wooton Bassett.

Sometimes you watch something on the television that turns you into a pathetic blubbering wreak. A shadow of your former self without any warning and it always occurs on the day you are out of tissues!

Last night was an example of that, the story on Wootton Basset, the small Wilshire Market Town that became the centre of national mourning at the loss of the UK's young service men and women in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Wooton Bassett is located close to RAF Lyneham, where the soldiers were repatriated. On the journey to the motorway and their hometowns, they were driven though the town centre. The story followed members of the Royal British Legion who decided to organise a small gathering of local people who wanted to pay their respects, which then turned to thousands and became the focus of a nation.

One story particularly got to me, it wasn't the families, their grief was obvious. It was the story of the quiet remembrance of an old solider who collected up the cards left by the families and created a book of remembrance. He cried as he showed it, telling stories of children who would grow up without their fathers. He explained "I didn't want them damaged, blown away or wet by the rain, so I put them in here." The front on the book read "WE WILL REMEMBER THEM" and I cried like a baby.

Apparently the town in now "Royal Wooton Bassett" an honour given by the Queen as thanks for the support the local people gave to the families of those fallen soldiers. In the words of Barack Obama "We want to honour our fallen warriors with the respect and gratitude they deserve, whether it be here or in the small town of Wootton Bassett. Where people line the streets in a solemn tribute that represents the best of British character."

I may have cried buckets, but for once I was proud to be British.

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