Welcome

I just wanted to say a big hi, howdy and hello there to everyone! Particularly my "follower" who I didn't even know read this let alone put a link to mine in his. Note that Darryl. Without me even asking. And anyone else that I don't know is reading, or don't even know. It's cool when I discover the most obscure associations (and those I know and love are pretty neat too) so be aware that I don't just like you visiting, I am wholeheartedly self-professed dead chuffed you stopped by. Thank you.

I must go. The folks are coming to visit :-D and I still have to go buy a textbook for a presentation I'm making next Tuesday. You can pray for it actually, if you are that way inclined...

Ciao Ciao! x

MIssing... assumed stressed/bored/lost/injured/lazy/backslid/busy/dead

I think that's it.

Actually I am OK. If I had to be any of the above I think it would be busy, but mostly I'm frustrated at still not being online!

I wasn't sure I was going to write a blog as I am only on the internet 'cause I fancied going for a late night walk, then I though I'm going past the maths department so why not take my laptop and make the most of the 24/7 wifi (or whiffee should I say Darryl) connection as I hadn't checked my mail in a while (haven't quite worked out how to do remote webmail access for my email address without following the link on my laptop). So I am here sitting on a cold step praying I don't get piles and wondering what I really should be doing, if I could work out God's mind exactly.

Maybe deciding for myself?!

That is one of them things about Christianity. Looking to God for all the answers. I became really sure that God was totally in control of it all and had an ideal plan for me. Then I realised that I had taken the whole biblical stance and seen it as a way to not have to make any decisions. Classic giving up control to someone more powerful than me because I was afraid to be strong for myself. So then when I realised that God isn't going to explicitly tell me how to spend every spare minute of my day the panic of getting things wrong really came along. That is what once upon a time stopped me from being able to choose meals in restaurants (I still struggle with that a bit but believe me, if you saw me before you'd realise that's nothing!) and disabled me from walking down the street without about 6 different tics or compulsive traits.

I really struggled with control. It's ironic that I looked externally to people that could take control of my life so I didn't have to then I would struggle internally with the lack of control that I had. Self control is a huge issue in Christianity - it surprises me how many people struggle with it and don't even realise - but I don't think that is where I am going today.

Today it is about using God as a way to diminish responsibility for our own lives. Like by praying in the morning we no longer have to make plans for the day it will all fall together.

This is a hard thing for me to grapple with. Partly 'cause a lot of the time cool God-incidences do happen. Thursday all I did was bump into people that I seemed "supposed" to spend time with and before I knew it it was evening and I had redeveloped old relationships, made a fabulous new friend and met loads of people I felt I should pray for. Today I found myself wondering up Gloucester road late afternoon, all the shops were shutting I was miles from my car and I was like "What am I doing here?". Then I bumped into someone from church that had gone a different way home than usual (and was annoyed at himself for it) who had been walking around all day saying "What do you want to say to me God?". I ended up giving him apparently really sound advice which can't have been from me and we both went home feeling like it was supposed to happen.

But it isn't necessarily always like that. I have also had times where I have gotten so worked up by what I should and shouldn't do that I have totally overlooked taking control and making my own mind up - wanting God to take the burden of choice away and ensure I do not make a mistake, then feeling lost if He isn't obviously there. Hating the feeling of purposelessness for even a minute, like life is about what we are fulfilling and forgetting that actually I am quite small in the scheme of things, that God has told me exactly what does and doesn't glorify Him and that today, right now, it doesn't matter too much as long as I aim to please.

All too often the temptation is to look at every minute situation and try and see what God is doing in it. A classic Christian thing is to say "maybe God is trying to tell me something". Like when I was looking for my iPod before I came out for a walk and couldn't find it I thought "well maybe God wants me to pray or listen or something and so is stopping me". That is pretty crazy though because for one thing if I was really adamant about listening to music this evening I would have just said to myself "clearly Satan doesn't want me to listen to worship songs as I walk along" because that would have suited me. As though everything has to have some kind of spiritual significance.

Which TOTALLY negates our own responsibility for life. Not everything comes to us with a quick prayer and waiting. Sometimes we have to make a choice.

Like if God wants to talk to me quietly, or just have me spend time with him, having my iPod wouldn't change that. My choice to listen would be the deciding factor for if it happened - I have to make the effort, I have to WANT it. I like having music on as I walk, I like getting absorbed in it and avoiding the mundane route I take everyday. I put Christian music on my iPod so that I feel less bad about the escapism, but perhaps it would be a good opportunity to let Him in. Afterall, while Tim Hughes is fabulous, he is but a fallible image of The Almighty.

This kind of stuff for me is a nightmare. One of my favourite things about becoming a Christian (Jesus aside) was the idea that I never again had to worry about choice or getting things wrong. Or so I thought. Surely with God in control, someone that has my best interests at heart AND knows how to fullfill them, things might be hard but they would always be Right. Right? The realisation that I still have input and responsibility and thus the potential for failure sucked ass. Gives a whole new meaning to the term 'Human Error'.

The freedom to mess up was, and still is, scary. The thing is though, no matter what mistakes we make He is able and willing to bring great stuff out of them, 'cause God is never going to give you up, never going to let you down, never going to run around and desert you.

I was going to be lazy and upload an old poem, turns out I found more than enough to say! Night x

My Second Love

I just read a post from Darryl's blog - about a Henri Nouwen video we watched t'other week at YAGs. Don't worry, I seldom actually visit TYC. I read it on Facebook so he doesn't get my hits...

Anyways. It was a really inspiring video and reading that post reminded me of what I had gotten from it, not to mention the pretty cool realisation I made after, so I though I would share. Some of you may know all too well what I am talking about and for others it will be nice and vague - the vagueness is sufficient for the example and, if you do understand all too well, I don't suppose it matters.

When I went to Paris in October and watched the Rugby World Cup final I had a pretty fun time. There's a few legendary stories - see here for example - but the real clincher for me now, I must admit, is the way in which God spoke to me. [This comment reminds me of the thing Sara said t'other day about what my parties are likely to turn into. A recent incident that only confirms the journey of my reputation down the plughole was when my visiting friends wanted to watch one of the infinite sky channels on my ginormous TV that I seldom-to-never watch. They switched it on and it was showing The God Channel... saaaaaaaad.]

Getting off the tangent. God talked to me there about love and how we need to love each other and ourselves and that all love comes from Him and it is His love that we are ultimately seeking. There is more to this I know, about loving God back for example (see Darryl's post - I am trying to move away from the competitiveness a little now it's an official grace killer. If it's on the list I MUST obey...) but at the time I was in a place (spiritually that is) where I didn't know what I believed and could not really understand the idea of loving God, let alone all that Christian jazz. So He gave me some survival tips and a real experience of His love for me. All this hapened in Paris, the City of Love, speaking the Language of Love and in the Sacré Coeur (sacred heart). The symbolism was not lost on me and it felt like I was having a romantic weekend away with God.

Anyway. The thing from Henri? Well if you are a regular reader (one of 4) you may have noticed that one of the things I have been learning about is God being my first priority, not letting man distract from Him and making sure that I put my trust and hope and love into Him. It's taken me a while since Paris, I still have a long way to go and He has made it pretty clear that until I can be wholly into that there is not going to be space for anyone else on my life. We're talking about boyfriends in case you hadn't picked up on that. When I was traveling in June I did a lot of learning about this (there was a pretty cool analogy, that I wrote about here, from Budapest). Henri phrased it in a fabulous way: "God is your First Love and man (relationships of all kinds) is your second. If you look in your second love for what you can only find in your First then you will crash." (That's not a direct quote but its close.)

I already knew this but it was good to be reminded and hear someone else put it so well. Then, when we were in the tea shop after YAGs (it gets worse and worse, we used to go to the pub), talking ont I realised sommat cool as an extra.

Here goes with the necessary personal detail. When I was in Budapest I was inadvertently a bit preoccupied with a certain "second love". God was pretty clear to me on what He thought (I realised a little too late) but these things can take over and, well, the days that followed were pretty chocka of visuals and lessons which I made some mention of at the time but did not give all the context. Now you have it you can reread through new eyes (which you will of course now do...).

God really speaks to me when I travel. Symbolism is cool and I love how using different cities He says different things. I can't wait to work out the significance of Bristol...

Geneva's easy: the motto is "post tenebras lux" - after the darkness, the light; Paris: city of love; Budapest? Well, people call it the Paris of Eastern Europe and at the time I could not help but think 'oooh, this is the encouraging love symbol for the certain preoccupation'. Eh Eh. (supposed to be a sound effect from a quiz show, did it work?) That Tuesday 2 weeks back I suddenly realised....

...Budapest does represent the preoccupation (I think from now on whenever I fancy someone I will refer to them as my preoccupation!), just not how I was looking at it. The Second City of Love, or perhaps rather City of Second Love by it's very name is akin to what M Nouwen described. It also has a real history of violence and corruption - the damaging potential of human love. It is love but it is the kind Henri warns of: not perfect, certainly not enough and with the propensity to go horribly wrong if that is where you are storing your treasure.

Now for the thing that was OVERWHELMING cool, as I was sitting in Kafé Deko talking myself hoarse: check out what I bought in the second hand shop in Budapest...

(It's mirror image but I can't flip it)

Even looking for the wrong type of love, in the city of the wrong type of love, I found (as God so graciously revealed Himself) perfect Parisian Love to take away with me - in the shape of a very cool retro compact mirror. It may have taken a while to realise but I was carrying it around all along.

Ooh ooh ooh! Last thought. If the sunglasses I lost (see this to understand) are the second love, they give a tinted view of the world. The mirror, the First Love, reflects a perfect image of who I am. There has to be something deep in that. I can't believe I'm now glad I lost them! Lol... too true...

Sorry it's such a long message. I just though that those that appreciate this kind of thing probably like the details too. That and I can't help myself!

Watcha Gonna Do With All That Junk?

I wonder if the reason I find it so hard to get rid of junk is 'cause if I did I may then realise it was time to clear out things that actually have some value. Like, holding onto the clothes labels that I may never have to deal with sorting out my wardrobe.

Is it like that inside? I try and get rid of my junk but I think that perhaps all I have done is the food waste and plastic wrappers - nothing I would feel pushed to keep anyway. What if really I am harbouring vast amounts of space wasters that I am not wanting to let go of in case I then have to move on to things I actually care about.

Sometimes I wish Jesus had sinned, just so I would feel less bad about myself giving in to temptation when He did not. But then, that would kinda defy the point right? Praise the Lord for being holier than thou.

In positive light, I got rid of half a carton of labels t'other day, and gave away a pair of trousers. I am serious about wanting to lose the crap inside too. Just got to get it together. Preferably before I pack my trunk.

I probably do give myself a bit of a hard time mind. There are some pretty huge things that have changed in recent times and I must stop being so down on myself as a default mode. (Especially with grace flying about in abundance.) Thus enters: Cognitive Behavioural Therapy.

A note on CTB. It is a very classic thing to do, think yourself happy. I say classic in the sense of modern (prize for anyone that knows how my mind works on that one!) and totally widely accepted and, I've always thought, valid enough probably. Except, I never really got round to doing it successfully - for one thing where's the motivation when you don't really care about anything enough? But now I kinda know* it is true. Logically convincing oneself into a better state of mind. Over and over. Constant repetition. Over and over. In fact, one could say, persevering. Duh, check out the bible for that one. I think I may have said this before, it is kinda a relevant concept for me: keeping going with the whole getting there eventually thing. In increasing measure. Little by little as it were. Take it in conjunction with this to really see the promised benefits. And don't forget that God does all the helping... I am not sure that the ellipses do this reference justice given that, as far as I am concerned, it is the one thing that takes the therapists' theory into the realm of possibility, given how likely we are to continuously fall into familiar thought habits.

Wow, it's a veritable bible study today! I am getting in practise for the next YAGs (did I ever explain what that is?) as I am leading it on the topic of praise and worship and may even be playing the guitar (God help them all!).

For how I am feeling in myself, check out Darryl's latest blog. He really hit that nail square.

Laters,
K



*within the realms of what I take as given in my faith.

A collection of vaguely comedic things (that will only work if you know the people in question) and a fair amount of tangentialism

We have a friend who is "half Spanish, half American". So, while Beautiful Brian is a nice name it does not reflect his heritage nearly as well a Randy José. Rechristenment done.

The other day one of my competitors was talking about his leather thong. I asked him if it had studs in it. He replied "You could say that" with the classic eyebrow-raise/head nod. 'F you know what I mean... Shocking!

Randy José called me a fucker on the 24th June. My mission in Geneva is complete. People still don't believe me but it is true. I seem to have this affect on people, SO many of them are swearing more with my influence. Hurrah! I mean this too, I am an advocator of a good cuss when it is necessary and think too many people shy away from it. Language is a tool people.

My mum was just as excited as me when I told her about the hair and said that for her it really was a proper sign (maybe this is where I get the silly symbolism streak from) of things being different. I said that I assumed other things, i.e. Baptism, were more so and she said "well yes, but now it's real!" WTF! (Language is a tool people).

I wrote 6 songs this week. I tend to do that more when I am feeling mellow rather than upbeat so I think if I were to have an album it would be called "Music To Almost Slit Your Wrists To But Then Find That There Is A Small Amount of Hope". We went to see Paul Simon at Montreux a few weeks ago and the 'warm up' (if you can call it that in Switzerland where the crowd never gets more than tepid) was a lady singer/songwriter brandishing a guitar, which is always an inspiration. I know it sounds silly but sometimes when I don't get round to writing music I worry that someone else will write the songs that I'm supposed to! Like when you don't fulfill your call so God gives the job to someone else. I really am that paranoid. The thing is, there are only so many chord combos... and words... OK, I am doing the maths and statistically speaking that is unlikely.

Speaking of which, what about going back to maths... ? Well I am excited, unprepared, a little too not knowledgeable and have lots of things to do when I do return which won't facilitate becoming sufficiently so. But it will be great and though I talk a lot about the sadness of leaving here I have to acknowledge the excitement of going home. I have a kitchen to decorate, friends to reunite with, cars to drive, crazy dogs to play with, a family to drive insane, churches to shop for, futures to plan... There is a lot of cool stuff ahead and I have never been as secure in my life plans and knowing where they will take me. Even if I don't actually know anything much at all - the ideas change on a very daily basis but always, I find, building on each other... but to who knows where?!

On the whole call thing, it actually makes me really worried that every time I mess up I am missing out. I think that I put quite a lot of pressure on myself like that and then retaliate by being even less inline with God. Smart hey? Facilitating/stemming from this I have had a bit of a tough week; life and God have been there but I have on several occasions been disconnected. Yet in all that I now feel like, overall, He was in control. I think. There has been a risk of me getting too legalistic with 'giving my day to God' and making sure that He would be able to do what He wanted as long as I said and did exactly the right things at every moment and being incredibly guilty when I didn't. [Talk about not following my own advice - maybe I am who this post was for.] We can't always be fully immersed in what feels like quality time (I will no doubt realise this more when I get back to a proper life where I cannot pick and choose my level of busyness) and I think this is what I am learning and that I need to be able to be content in God in that. Keeping at it even when I am not in the honeymoon period.

And the anology for this lesson? I went swimming with Zoe on Friday and when I came out (after some pretty hardcore sunbathing as well) I found my hair was not as red. I nearly cried, mostly 'cause of what that said about me as a person and that I had not even show Robyn, but I was over reacting *slightly* as overall the impression is still very SB. It just reminded me that, while the colour was a moment of encouragement, I do need to protect it and I will still have to go through some major upkeep on a regular basis. A question of perseverance to see the long term goals. After all, I got the faith; I'm trying to be good and seeking to gain knowledge; in some, though granted not all at all, areas I am showing self-control and so perseverance is the next logical step (well, logic if you are going by the process as outlined here). Soo, this post would be not so much funny as tangential.

But I have found something that I can beat Darryl on. MY blog is more holy than his: I have more links to the bible... So there.

A Splash of Colour

Whoopee! I found out (a few weeks ago now) that I had doubled most of my photo albums and tripled my music collection on my laptop, which means that I no longer have to worry at all about how much storage I have on here. There is plenty to last me until the end of August and as such I was able to upload my photos from The Trip!!

So, in particular favour to my parents and in particular tribute to The Yellow Couch, I am (finally) going to makes links to albums that can be found elsewhere on the web. I am not prepared to pay for a host site so you will get the quality Facebook gives and be glad for it! See me for higher quality copies (if I know you, else that would just be weird!).

This is particularly pertinent now the blog-off has been officially recognised by DD. I am realising that without photos it is basically a nobrainer, so here you go. I would add that if we let experience be the judge then the whole 'self-improvement' thang would be futile. I vote we measure on enthusiasm!

First things first, Dublin. A selection follows with more to be found here and even more to be added one day, maybe.

The first drink. My first Guinness. We later went to the factory where I bought some underwear to mark the occasion.














Is this not fabulous? They weren't walking along in some Reservoir Dogs manner it was by chance, they weren't even together. If only I had the feet... Still, power to the ginge!



They look cool even when they fight.








I kid you not, they are still alive...! Touring even!!



A cool skip. I like skips, you never know what you might find in them.


















The most Irish man in the world.














'The' man himself. How am I suppose to compete with someone that cool...? That is genuine Gutchi I'll have you know.

F'd in the A

I am so happy today! Despite the rain which is incessant and totally got in the way of my swim in the lake. Yesterday my weather prayer was SO successful that this morning I decided to take my swim suit with me, rather than my umbrella... I ended up walking down the street with a towel over my head!

Still. Nice lunch, met some lovely new people at church 'fya know what I mean...?! ;-) Enjoyed playing the piano in the service; I have been doing that for a few months now, approx every other week and am SO lovin' it. It's really helped me with my ability and confidence and been one of the more blatant blessings of life here.

What other ones are there? Well, getting away from the UK to be honest was a much needed and welcome break. Then there is my pimp place to live (I have a rooftop pool!) and wonderfully slow working week (4-20 hours long during the afternoon and some weekends) which is now totally at an end for the summer. So many fabulous opportunities for trips and activities like skiing, rafting and other fun stuff came along too. The friends, who I can't begin to express how much I love and value, play a MAJOR part: at the YAGs group (I'll expound another time, needless to say a silly Christian acronym but I have heard worse!), church and the ones I met in trains and clubs too - love you guys!

I have also learnt A LOT. God aside, one obvious thing is French, which though not at all perfect is much better. My dear friend who teaches me for free and diligently sees me every week over a lovely soirée has really taught me a lot, both linguistically and spiritually. Others have shown me a bit of Russian too (I can ask where the toilets are, recite poetry and say "I want to have your babies"!) which will come in handy when I adopt my Eastern European baby. Well, it might not. I mean there are lots of languages 'over there' and I probably won't get a Russian child since they actually have population problems and, as Erkki says, "You have to learn Finnish to understand Finnish" which I think is a principle that can be applied to most languages.

I digress.

Sometimes I feel like I am in a stream of consciousness. I ought to read that book that Carolyn told be about (please remind me) but I would struggle 'cause I'd then want to write about it afterwards/as I went along and so the vicious cycle continues. I do feel a bit like Russell Brand when he says his life is a "serious of embarrassing incidents strung together by telling people about those embarrassing incidents" but where you replace the word 'embarrassing' with 'mediocre' and 'telling' with 'boring [people] with'... And perhaps 'people' with 'my parents, my sister and MS twice a day'. Hmmm.

I have a bit of an obsession with remembering things though, hence the stream-like flow. I sometimes need to boycott journaling 'cause else it takes over and I do literally spend my life writing about it. (I mostly got the blog to force me to check spelling and grammar.) This is also exemplified (word choice?) in things such as filling up my phone Inbox and then getting a new one! And I keep all the receipts and labels I ever get; if you saw my room back home you might wonder what all the drawers and boxes are full of. Well, now you know!

But, slowly, that is being dealt with. For a start I no longer print receipts at cash machines - breakthrough! Funny story: when I told Darryl I 'need' to keep receipts he took it very to heart and when he ordered his lunch gave me his food ticket too. Sweet. I was like, Darryl, I don't need yours.... but, well, now I do 'cause it's a keepsake! Ha ha!

So, I just came clean about one of my biggest oddities. I didn't even mean to, I really am good at digressing aren't I?! I suppose I see it as one of the bigger blessing from this year; freedom from shit like that. I don't think I could do it on my own strength and I see little point in trying now I know God is much better. It's like, I could just about cope and be really argggh or I could give up, move on and reach higher heights. Why take 40 years to get across a 40 day desert? He is in general responsible for everything so I may as well let him be in total control and do it really really well. I have 40kg to bring all my stuff back, which is a lovely biblical number, let's see what God can do...!

Oh and meaning of title? Well, that is a legendary phrase that my student used when she had done something really well (if you don't get it don't ask, you don't want to know) and seeing as she got a 6/7 for her maths mark today I am pretty pleased. I was going for the 7 but hey, she wasn't even passing last year and this way I get to not be proud!

So, another blessing from my time abroad. That and the Salvation. Shouldn't forget Salvation... Which by the way has 7 meanings from original Jewish (I think I mean Hebrew right?) or perhaps Greek: saved, protected, liberated, preserved, free from harm, complete, without defect. I like these all.

Shit old life: F'd that in the A. Even better than a good exam result in my humble opinion... Sorry if it got too personal; I think perhaps that green tea does, after all, have caffeine in it (I know you told me sis but I didn't want to believe you and I could not see it on the box). Whoops.

Yet still mostly Whoop!!

Progress

When homeless people first started giving me their mobile numbers I got really confused. Talk about 'modern times' when you have a phone but not a bed... But then it made sense to me. How else are they to plan their social life? I mean, it's not like they can have a landline is it.

Blur said that modern life is rubbish. I'm not sure I concur with that; BGB would not be here were it not for the internet... but still, we are a bit too dependent aren't we? T'other day (OK, this was about three months ago and would have been blog no.3 were I to have gotten around to talking about it then) I was on my way home from Darryl's when I realised I did not have my phone. I managed a good 30 seconds without it but as soon as I noticed life stopped. Telling the others to go on without me while I go back to pick it up, I was suddenly alone; stranded in the island that is 'nophone'. This turned from an irrational insecurity to a real problem as I realised that the trusty door code (best kept secret in Geneva) was stored in my mobile so I never had to worry about forgetting/remembering it. My backup would normally be to call from downstairs - not gonna happen was it?

So there I was: standing in the dark street at about 11pm at night, shouting up 4 floors in the vain hope that Darryl will hear me through an open window (even though he normally shuts them to keep the noise of the busy street out). Is that how people used to do it in the olden days?

Aside: I had a friend once without a mobile (or 'cell'); but she got one about a month ago. Then the other day I got got a phone call, she rang me on it just to see how: she'd only ever done texting (sms-ing) and hadn't a clue! Some people take longer, but eventually even she has become caught up in the technology bug...

But when it comes down to it, was it the 'old methods' that helped me? Not at all! I realised after a few minutes (of looking mental) that I had my laptop with me (I had been blogging in Starbucks before YAGs) so I just sat on the step, fired it up and checked my downloaded mail inbox. It was technological progress that that had saved the day, not looking back.

I like to think that if God can answer prayers using a computer He can't despise technology that much (wow, this post did not start out as Amish bashing!). I had asked Robyn to take my laptop home for me and then last minute decided not to bother; thus my desperate prayer outside Mike Wong's was fulfilled 5 minutes prior in front of Kafé Deko. But then, time and space not really a problem for Him are they?

On the way out I managed to fall down the stairs whist holding my computer, I think this is less the fault of technology and more flip flops on stone steps. I do that *quite* a lot... I am still, it seems, subject to the laws of gravity and friction. Damn it. My reaction to the situation was frustration and angst (anyone who saw my Facebook status that night would testify to that fact...!). Not something I am feeling nearly so much these days. But then, as the song goes, "Little by little, everyday..."

So, really, progress is all right by me. And, just for the hell of it, let's chuck in a biblical reference! Not wanting to akin myself to a tanned goatskin with the legs and tail cut off, I am very much enjoying the new wine. (Have I taken a reference and completely altered the meaning? Do tell me if so. I am, after all, only a month and 10 days old and still very much learning...)

À la prochaine!

A Postcard from the Emerald Isle

Seeing as you are still checking in on the blog, thanks by the way, I feel like I should write a quick note to you all.

Bristol. Wopnderful. Lovely time with sister, Ana and new bar/restaurant place. Excited to return, loved the fact that it was the same but yet different. Update on the Oreo's: there is a big campaign to bring them in and they even have Oreo McFlurry. Love it!

Dublin. Ace. The Irish are friendly, all is forgiven from past experiences of them. I met a museum man that was wonderful and friendly and told us the following:
That he was the original caveman, never learnt to drive, never had a mobile phone, didn't have a passport. He was cool. Told us he liked to walk his dog but had little success teaching him how to switch on the TV... very fabulous not withstanding the accent which just made it momentous. Art gallery good, food good, beer good, very aware that there is lots to sample in life and little (relatively speaking) time so just gotta take what you can and chill out.

Hopefully beach tomorrow and the Guiness factory.

In other news, Darryl is a liar. I heard him speak French.

In summary: Bailey's cheese cake is a gimic, Irish stew is not; it is confirmed that God resides in the UK and Ireland as well as Switzerland-yet to pass judgement on Hungary and Austria but it looks good...

Now have many things to do, hostel internet may run out and anyway how sad am I to be here and not doing something Irish or at the very least sociable. This must be the fastest blog I have ever written and the quality will be testimony to that. Oh well, what can you do.

Last funny anecdote to keep you interested: Robyn and I rolled down a hill in skirts. It's pretty rubbish as far as funny stories go but the pictures are cute and I can't be arsed to think harder.

Ta ta!

Ma'wedge... tha dweam wivin a dweam

T'other day I was havin' a chat with Darryl (by which I mean I talked across him about me as he tried to tell me about apertures) and he said that he thought I was the kind of person that would need to 'be with' someone that was able to give me lots of stimulation - suppose that is 'cause I am all loud and excitable and what not. I was not at all convinced. I mean, I get verbose about things all on my own quite a lot of the time anyway. For those that know me, doesn't the idea of someone who would magnify that just scream terrifying? Darryl even got my point that were I to be in that situation I may just explode. Kinda why it works so well with Robyn and I me thinks. I can be quiet, I like being by myself; indeed, sometimes all I want is for people to bugger off!

But this blog is not about finding my match. For one I am quite content to pine after Colin Firth for the next 10 years as I go about being a busy career woman (OK, as I sit in my flat with my cat and blog and write poetry and cross-stitch and grow my own veg) before I start to fret about the biological clock. And that is good because, besides the impossible task of finding someone with the right balance of calm, capable and visionary (I feel a Mr Perfect blog coming on one day but those three are a concise list for now), I need a lot of time to plan The Wedding.

Yes, there is of course a Wedding. You may think I would be unwise to share it with you, given that they are supposed to be a big exciting time and well, these are the plans that surprises are made of. But they are also the plans that broken engagements are made of and it seems a little optimistic that were I to find Mr Right he would also be Mr Themed Wedding. Alors, I can only live this one out through sharing it with you.

Well, the dress will be white and though I have some ideas it is not the most important thing. Surprisingly, the bride in this one plays a relatively small part (the groom even less so!) and anyway, I have to hold a little back. So, the only outfit info is the shoes. They will be red and sparkly and I have always know this. That is not subject to change.

And it is from the shoes that everything else stems. Yes, you must have guessed it: The Wizard of Oz.

So. What does this involve? Well, first off I will walk down the aisle to "Somewhere Over The Rainbow". The Eva Cassidy version of course. Except, the aisle will actually be paved with yellow bricks (there could be some scope for lino to be used). The church will be emerald green and flowers made of foliage only. That kind of thing.

My bridesmaids. Well there is only space for 3. No more, no less. My dog Wendy will be the ring-bearer with a little plaid coat and behind me are three creations of wonder: a silver foil-esque dress (tin man); a Hawaiian style grass skirt theme (scarecrow) and last but not least a fur creation (need I say, the lion). The last will be mostly leopard print 'cause it has to get in there somewhere but it shall involve a fluffy 'mane-like' trim. That should be just right.

The scene is set. Next is where the hubby will have to be a bit forgiving 'cause it is likely that his friends will not get to be ushers as they will probably not fulfill the necessary requirements. That is, I will need to hire actors of a certain height in order that they can effectively dress up as Munchkins. I mean, if it is legitimate to employ them based on their size to play a role in a film I don't think it is wrong to try and recreate that at a serious themed wedding. They may even be the ones from 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' and could do a dance while people wait for me..?

That aside, we will need a tolerant pastor to marry us. The building I am not worried about, it is all about where we are happy (once you green wash something it doesn't really matter where it is) but the minister will have to be up for hiding behind a giant throne with a big moving head and talking through a microphone with a scary voice "DO YOU TAKE THIS WOMAN... " Not that big an ask really and I think it's less silly that writing your own vows. Oooooh, writing your own vows, maybe that is not such a bad idea now I think of it in this context...? "I want to walk this road with you in boldness, seeking love and in pursuit of common sense... and magical shoes"?

So, last one and this is just simple and obvious. I always wanted a gospel choir at my wedding and, without wanting to sound politically incorrect, I have come up with the perfect way to incorporate them: they can be an army of flying monkeys and the director will be the Wicked Witch of the West complete with hat and green skin. Maybe they could sing something from the musical while we sign the register?

I am not sure how I will incorporate Glinda in this. The MC of the reception? Perhaps she could be the maid of honour... Carolyn, good witch, yes? You'd get a wand.

But you know, of course I will let my husband choose some things. The song as we leave almost definitely. The button holes? No, I will need to supervise that. He does have to wear green. But there will be something...

Now really Darryl, you think I need someone that stimulates me?

Blog-off (and a closet door sprung open)

Hmmm, so this is my first ever blog entry and the problem I am facing is this: I was talking to Darryl today - expert on many things and blogger extraordinaire - about the fact that I was going to start a blog (great advise about not putting anything racy and incriminating on which is ace for my career prospects but does means that the one person who cared enough to read this far just got disinterested) and I made the careless error of saying "I reckon I could find as many words to write as you if not more".
Foolish.
Hence the pressure is on as I make my first and most likely lame attempt at this 'Blog-off'. How I will ever compete with The Yellow Couch I do not know and surely I would do well not to risk trying, but I have a lot of free time of my hands and like the sound of my own voice...!

Why now? You may ask. Having moved to Geneva 8 months ago it would seem logical that I began to log my exciting adventures here so that all the lovelies back home could keep up with the soap opera that is my life. Frankly I was lazy but it's hitting home to me now that I am leaving GVA to return to BRS is a little under 3 months and these days I have friends not just in an other country but in a multitude of them. For those non-faux-Genevoise reading (she says hopefully!) the reason for this is that there seems to be a culture of passing through this beautiful city and onwards; to something no doubt bigger and better but having shared for a moment as part of a living organism, that takes a little of you and gives a little back of something else. A glorifying experience indeed but not without its issues as it threatens to numb one towards a life of loving and losing. Well, I have now decided what this first entry is about: T'seems natural to me to mention in brief (a kind of recap as it were) what it has meant to me to be a part of this organic experience - what I gave, what I took and how ultimately it has changed my life inconceivably loads. I suppose this is me coming out to all my friends back home who haven't heard yet about the changes and discoveries I have made in this land of neutrality, chocolate and reformation.

Someone once said (note the vagueness in this statement) that it is ok to talk to God, it's when he talks back that you should start worrying. Now, I feel it may be a little insane to publish this on the intraweb but I am feeling feisty and proud to say that when I came to Switzerland I met God.

*Taking a moment for everyone from Woodies to shut their mouths; for my mum to wipe her eyes and for the rest to roll theirs, snigger and either say they saw that coming or that they really really didn't, respective to what the last conversation we had was.*

So, I think I will leave that topic there for now, keep you religious nuts coming back for more... Next installment promises a semi-interesting anecdote from my more worldly experiences since I left the cider country. My own brother thinks it is so good it actually isn't true, and he is really cool so he must know (not that I am liar just that it is a good story). I choose it because when Darryl first heard it his reaction was "How does a guy compete with that?" and so I think it has a slightly better chance than some to, well, compete.