Day 15.

"Earth to Hannah. Come in. Can you hear me? Hannah? Life is not a fairytale and it won't ever be like it is in the movies. Wake up."

*

I came down to Earth with a bang.

I am a dreamer. There is no denying it. I am the kind of person desperate to be passionately kissed in the rain, come home to a house full of flowers, proposed to under the stars. I am the hopeless romantic in an unromantic relationship. I don't judge him though, that's the way he is but it isn't the way I am. I should definitely have been an actress. I could have acted out these scenes over and over again, yet they still wouldn't be my moments.

Do I want him to be more romantic? No. If that isn't who he is, I don't want him that way. Forced. Awkward. Uncomfortable. No thanks. Either I am with a romantic man or I am not. Left in my own dream world. Do I believe in forever? Maybe once but not so much now. With 'gentlemen' in serious decline does it mean us ladies have to forget all about the being swept off our feet routine? Do we no longer deserve it?

I deserve it and I will tell you why. After years of disastrous relationships I reckon I have earned it. I've put up with cheats, liars and everything else in between. No more! I quit. I have given up 'bad' men and I am certainly no longer going to accept average. I want amazing. I want the butterflies, the passion, the commitment, the excitement. Why should I expect anything less? Why should you expect anything less?

I had my life all planned out. Nothing has turned out how I expected it. So far. House in the countryside, three kids, dogs and a husband who dotes on me. Traditional. Simple. Loving. Wholesome. Am I expecting too much though? Can dreams really come true?

Running away always seems a romantic idea. Think Lydia and Mr Wickham in Pride and Prejudice. Can it ever be a good thing? Leaving everyone and everything behind in the hope that the love you have will last? I always like to think it would. Especially if it's real. "I am going to Gretna Green, and if you cannot guess with who, I shall think you a simpleton, for there is but one man in the world I love, and he is an angel." If only life were like the times of this and we were so naive as this in love.

A relationship may not be how you planned it. It may not be how you want it. Yet it is still precious. They take hard work, dedication and loyalty. If you've tried and it isn't working, you aren't happy or if you're looking elsewhere-my advice- start re-thinking what you want and what you are doing with that person. Don't break someone's heart just because you are confused by yours. Some times the best decisions we make are the ones we choose with our heart.

Back I go to my dreams. My hopeless dreams. My hopeless romantic dreams.

"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

Day 12.1

Love. Life. Forever. Marriage. Kids. Dreams. Honeymoon. Clingy. Needy. Desperate. Passion. Romance. Happiness. Loyalty. Trust.

*

How can people fall in 'love' so quickly? As far as my previous exploration in to the subject goes; you can't. I will allow you lust but really? Love? So soon? It's all so common now to throw the word love around until you've lost count of how many times you've declared it. We say we 'love' people even if we've never met them, we say we 'love' people after meeting them a few times, we say we 'love' someone just to get them in to bed, we say we 'love' someone when we get those butterflies.

I like love. I don't love love because love hurts and I don't appreciate things that hurt me.

Time and time again people fall in to a relationship to then suddenly admitting their undying love for one another, how they can see themselves marrying the other person and so on and so forth. Yawn. Please refrain from telling me. 

Love is tricky because being able to decipher what is lust and what is love is an actual art; of which you need to have practiced a few times before you claim to feel it. Love makes you sick. Love makes you giddy. Love makes you feel on top of the world but at the same time completely vulnerable. Love is...

Who knows?

Relationships of people who were 'in love' fairly quickly appear to end, fairly quickly too. Go figure. Rather than ironing out the creases in their relationship they give up at the first hurdle because the wonderful, honeymoon period has come crashing to Earth with an almighty bang. 

So, after all of that, what I am trying to say is:

If you're in love, tell them. If you aren't sure, keep it quiet. If you haven't been dating that long, the chances are it isn't love. 

Hannah x

Day 12.

Finally it is Friday. Not that it makes much difference. Tonight. Drunk. Dancing. Best friend. One of. Laughing so hard it hurts. Becoming a lesbian for the evening. Shouldn't be too difficult.

*

Today I laughed. No wait, I cried with laughter. In a shower room with my client and the other carer. He has a real fear of water. He hates it. We washed him. So far so good; then it came to rinsing him off... I seriously haven't laughed so hard in ages. I was crying. It was hot. It was hilarious. The other carer is a bit of a character, I think she is amazing. Sadly she leaves in a couple of weeks which means I won't be seeing her again. I must find her on Facebook. Anyway, as the shower head was lifted, aiming for his back, my client started screaming. It was panic. He did start giggling though, so he felt safe. Not only was he wailing, the other carer started copying him and oh my days, it was the funniest thing ever. Definitely a 'had to be there' moment.

I wrote the other day how the three main things that excite me are payday, writing and sex. So far I have had payday and here is the writing, but now what about the sex? 

Does tolerating things mean we are strong or just weak at following our beliefs? Does putting up with behaviour and rumour mean we are gullible and stupid? Who can we trust anymore? I have been in a relationship now for nearly three years. Some good times and certainly some bad. Have I tolerated things I wouldn't have done years ago? Yes. Most definitely yes. There's no point letting it consume you though. Unfortunately, some things can never be forgotten but can they truly be forgiven? As I sit here, I really wonder how relationships are supposed to be. We all know the main rules. Don't cheat, don't lie, don't abuse but do we all make up our own rules as we go along? Identity can be lost fairly quickly if you don't hold on to it tightly. I've watched mine disappear before. I have always been head strong, fiery, passionate. I was always adamant I would never change for any man yet here I am; a totally different woman to who I was three years ago. Some changes have been for the better, some for the worse. Now, these aren't all necessarily my partner's fault as you only change when you want to. Any one who forces you to change is an arsehole and doesn't deserve your time. 

For some reason I am in an anti-man state of mind but for no real reason. I am considering becoming a lesbian, full time. None of this half arsed rubbish. Wouldn't that be easier? I doubt it. Women are as hard work as men just in a different way. Men seem to struggle with emotions and women seem to struggle suppressing their emotions. We need to take a leaf out of each others books.

I hate waiting for texts. I definitely need to be drunk soon. I am determined to dirty dance with her. Oh, and see how drunk I can get her. 

Hannah x

Day 11.

Looming rain clouds. Camp. Very camp. Bill and Ben mimicking turned in to laughs all morning. Happy feeling in the air. Shopping call resulting in desperate hunt for Tena Lady. Sex and the City and time on the treadmill.

*

As Thursday reared it's gloomy head I was a little apprehensive of my second call. I would be meeting another member of the team. The team of which I had been part of for nearly three months, yet had only met a handful of other carers. I preferred working on my own though to be honest. No judgement, no awkward chit chat, no interference. He was lovely though. A real sweetheart, very flustered, very camp, very me. I was assigned the task of washing the man who is petrified of water, due to some incident in the war. This man loves the ladies. He will love it even more tomorrow when he has two of us.

After my uneventful shopping call, which should last an hour yet actually takes me nearly to the two hour mark, I wanted to get home and fast. I couldn't bare to hear another story about the new Prince and the entire history of the royal family. She is a sweet lady, at times, but only manageable in small doses. I am like a saviour to all carers now I have taken on her call. Go me. 

I am now feeling quite excited. Not only is Friday a wonderful day, not only because I get the weekend's mornings off. (Well planned.) I also get, tomorrow, to go out with my long, lost friend Kerry. I get to try and dye my roots. I get to spend all afternoon pampering myself and no doubt appearing on countless ladders and blogging all sorts. It is a good day had by all, mostly. Tomorrow evening we are going for a meal then drinks then dancing. I need time with her. I need some time away from men. Not that it will be easy once in town but at least she will be with me. This really sounds like a proper girl crush and in some respects it is. She's a tough cookie. Most definitely. In the years we have known each other she has told me everything. Literally. At one point I kicked her little sister out of her own room just so I could stay over. They were good memories. Being woken up by the younger brother. He's changed so much. I miss those days.

There I go again. Being all nostalgic. Seems to be all I do now. Hearing songs that remind me of good times. Speaking to people I haven't heard from in years. Looking back through old photos. It's really lovely.

Hannah xox

Day 10.1

Repetitive. Sympathy. The sun shining on my back; my hair glowing. Singing songs in the car. Cake. Fizzy water. Family time.

*

After a brief visit to Morrisons I was lucky enough to hear the most fantastic conversation. In fact, one of the most irritating, for a girl anyway, conversations on Earth.You've guessed it. It's old faithful. Rearing it's ugly head yet again to spark a joyous chat between man and woman. "Are you in a mood?"

First off, if you think she is, you're probably right. Maybe leave her alone, try and make her smile. Perhaps you could even get your head around the fact that it could have been you that put her in a mood? Or maybe, just maybe, she actually isn't in a mood and is just feeling quiet, thoughtful, taking a step inside so she can work things out in her head? Clearly these men know nothing...

Asking a girl if she's in a mood is like asking if you can dropkick a thousand puppies in an RSPCA centre. It doesn't go down particularly well. Ever. Fact. Learn from this manthings. It is important for your survival. If you're fed up of her being 'in a mood'- go away! Or simply ask if she wants to talk, if she says no, bites your head off and gets even grumpier you have still done well. At the time we won't make you feel like we have appreciated it but we will have done.

Her response was the best though. He asked whether she was in a mood and she simply responded, "No, I'm not, I wasn't but now I am. Stop asking or it will be the last thing you do." I do love a fiery woman. I smiled as I walked away from them, wondering whether I react the same. I definitely do. Usually a lot worse. I don't care. You aggravate me, I will be sure you realise it.

Over and over this conversation will have been played out in relationships each probably not ending too well. Note to man people: If you think asking whether we are in a mood will make us kick off, try asking if we are on our periods. I wish you all the luck in the world my friend.

Hannah xox

Day 10.

Some days it got too much. It became unbearable to read the generic bull shit coming through on social media. Things felt distant. Happy though. Things to look forward to. The worst response to anything. Ever. "Ok."

*

After my sister finally being able to say 'love you' in a text, I realised how grown up she had become. The fear of being in hospital over night, on her own, had probably sparked this sudden admission but it was warmly welcomed all the same. My family always seems to have difficulty in expressing emotion, apart from anger. We are good at arguing, not so much at admitting love for one another. Maybe this is why I am so cynical about love and relationships. Maybe this is why I am a hopeless romantic.

Today I struggled to be confident. The pressure of 'performing' got too much, I suppose. Was I always putting on an act? I felt relieved to be out of that house. Using my fake smile and laugh began to wear me out. I was so nervous there and I didn't know why. After what seemed the fastest hour ever, it was all finished with. The act could stop but why did I stress myself out so much? There was really no need. I am competent. Good at what I do. Passionate to learn more. That should be enough for me.

Planning a night out is sometimes all the medicine you need. Especially when it's with a friend you barely see. A friend you've missed so much for the last couple of years you thought at times that nothing could be salvaged from 'the wreckage', formerly known as life, that pretty much destroyed it. Men got in the way. Work got in the way. Life most definitely got in the way. I have her back though, slowly but surely. My friend of many years, my true friend, never really did leave. I can't wait until Friday.

I began to wonder what my relationships with others would be like in a few years time. When someone you really love leaves your life it can feel completely empty. (My advice, if you want them back, make the first move and persevere. Only until, of course, they tell you to 'fuck off and never speak to them again', would I advise, perhaps, to forget about it.) Would I be best friends with the person I thought I'd never like? Would I still be in love? Would I be having fun? Some questions are best left unanswered. The future can seem scary.

Why can I leave my house looking and feeling good yet return home in a state, which can only be described as 'worn out'? (Answers on a post card kids.) I think seagulls are shagging on my roof.

Hannah xox

Day 9.

She was pleasant enough. Funny. The smell was unbearable. More of a stench. Foul. Breath taking but in the worst possible way. Thank God for gloves and aprons. Thank God it was only for an hour. It was intense. You couldn't see for flies and shit.

*

Today I feel vulnerable. I feel as though my feelings are out of control, as though I have no real sense of what they are and what they mean. I don't know how to be. I feel good about myself which hasn't happened in a while. It's as though I am expecting something to go wrong. The butterflies. The anticipation but of what? What is it I am actually waiting for?

Vulnerable I may be but I also feel powerful, sexy, in control. Whatever has happened to me over the last couple of days is unknown. Yet I feel this inner burning. (No not heart burn.) An intense, over whelming, passionate desire to rekindle the Miss Case that once was. Similar to yesterday but this is fierce. It's uncontrollable. Am I setting myself up for my downfall?

There it is. There's the fear. The fear of preparing myself for a great fall. I've also thought I was intuitive. As if I knew when things were going to happen but never like this. I feel I need a beer, cigarettes and a long day with a good friend. Mulling life over. Asking the questions that shouldn't really be asked. Revealing how I actually feel rather than what 'should' be said. Is it bad to question your entire life over a feeling?

My mind is resolute. It is focused, determined, fully submersed in my thoughts. Drowning in over thinking. Sinking in to myself entirely. How would I re-surface? Gasping for air in an over crowded mind.

I feel alone yet fully surrounded. Things are just clicking in to place as they should be. The world around me is changing. Entirely. I am changing. I can feel it in my bones. I am lost yet found. Hidden but exposed. Head or heart? The question of a life time. It's all good trying to figure out the meaning of life but how do we distinguish which feelings we follow? Is it the head or the heart? I always believed I followed my heart and it served me well for many years. However, as those years have rushed by me I feel like I am only following my head. My heart being left redundant in a cavity it once thrived in. 

Time will tell or so they say. Who are 'they'? It's time to excite that old heart of mine and put it to good use. 

Hannah xox

Day 8.

It was perfect. It was hot. Too hot at times. It was quick. It flew by; as if the moments couldn't bare to stay any longer than they had to. It disappeared before I even knew what to do with it. It was my day.

*

After a fairly mediocre morning of work, I had time to reflect on what or indeed, who, I was. Of course, the obvious answer is I'm a girl. Well, woman now I guess. How time flies. After years of change I suddenly felt like I didn't recognise myself anymore. Maybe the physical change hadn't been anything to get excited about, I was more intrigued by how I'd changed as a person. Was I considered a bitch? Needy? Lazy? Passionate? Caring? What was I? Who was I?

Working with individuals a lot older than me gives a real insight in to how I could become if I get stuck in a rut. I hear stories of people regretting some of their life choices, how old they were when they had their children, their past romances, their dreams and wishes. All of it coming with the same piece of advice or, should I say, wisdom. 'Do what makes you happy and remember you are still young.' Still young. That always rings in my head when I think back to conversations. I may still be young but soon enough society will have written me off as a true has-been and can I really cope with that? Like fine wine we grow better with age. Do I really want to wait until I have aged until I am truly happy?

At 23 years old I already, at times, feel past it. I feel like I haven't achieved. Haven't done more silly things that are expected of me at my age. I don't take drugs, I don't have an awful and regrettable tattoo and I don't sleep around. Should I be doing those things? Am I too young to settle down? I guess age has nothing to do with whether you are ready to settle down or not. After all, there are those in their 40's who still aren't ready and in equal measure those at 18 who are. 

The sadistic nature of all social media means we are inflicted with seeing how well everyone else is doing, whilst leaving us a little desolate and feeling like we aren't doing enough. Yet, what is enough? Surely being settled in a beautiful bungalow with an amazing job, partner, family and friends is nothing to be sniffed at? How do I know that the young, gallivanting youth aren't wishing or hoping for the same thing? The grass is always greener on the other side. It's not always worth the visit. I say that from true experience. 

This post must sound horrid. I sound like I am complaining about the life I have which, of course, I'm not but maybe I just miss the excitement I once felt? Maybe this is excitement but in a different form. My excitement comes from writing, pay day and sex; if they all happen on the same day I am a very happy girl. 

Grasping on to who we were before can't be the safest of things to do. It can make us irrational, no longer content, bored. Rather than holding on to who we were, we should be embracing who we are. Sometimes something feels like it is missing from my life but I guess that is part of the journey. Something I haven't discovered yet which will soon makes it's presence known. Some times life needs a little shake up. We need to re-evaluate what we want. The life we want. 

I got stung by a wasp yesterday. The nest was huge. This excited me.

Hannah xox

Day 6.

Suddenly awake. Must be late. The cool breeze rushing through the blinds. Check the phone. 8:30am. 5 hours sleep is never good. Roll over and try again. He's sprawled out across the bed; too hot to go near. Think happy thoughts. Nothing.

*

After getting home at about half 3 this morning I thought I would get a really good nights sleep. Apparently not. 5 hours later and I was awake. Too awake. I got up and lay on the sofa, tv on, willing myself to close my eyes and just relax. It really wasn't happening. Is always the way when I have a weekend off. I spend most of it nursing a hangover and struggling to catch up on the sleep I lost throughout the 12 days prior. 

Popping to Morrisons was...interesting. Maybe it was my attire or perhaps even my hair but people were certainly looking. I don't usually mind but today I wasn't quite feeling my best. I decided on one of my 'curtain' dresses. Knee length, clingy with black, tie up work shoes. Hair a mess, make up not much better. I ran round the shop pretty much without breathing, just in the hope I could hold my paunch in! This diet needs to start showing results soon. I guess it's my hair that's interesting for people to look at. I don't think it's that bright but in certain lighting I am told it is. (Fantastic). I love having red hair. I definitely think I was a mermaid in a past life.

Saturday night tv is definitely not what it used to be is it? I remember, when I was a young girl, how excited I used to get for Saturday nights. It was either Noel's House party, Generation Game, Stars in their Eyes...the list is endless really. Now, all we have is, well, nothing really. It doesn't leave me with much to watch when I don't fancy going out. However, I have discovered the porn channel. I was introduced to this by my aunt and uncle when I used to go round and see them once a week. They always had it on. For me now, it is definitely the ultimate viewing pleasure for a night in alone. The Drama channel. What more could a girl want? Tonight I have Pride and Prejudice. This is what wet dreams were made of.

Hannah xox

 

Day 5.

A tiring morning deserved relaxation in the park for the afternoon. Hot, sweaty. Trying to read but not being able to concentrate. The cider going down nicely. Until. Sudden rush of sickness. Again. Tired and hungry. Naked in the garden. He pissed on the lawn.

*

I am so glad it is Friday. Mainly because it's this Friday. My weekend off work starts now. I definitely need it. Such a tiring job, even for a part timer. I've done full time; both in home care and a nursing home. Trust me, the exhaustion isn't much different. It was a good day albeit rushed. I did a good job. I thought I did a good job.

Cider is lovely yet sickly. Pear was a bad choice. Sitting in the park commenting about the book I was reading to someone who isn't really fussed about what I was reading. Angels and Goddesses. Not everyone's taste I admit. I won't waffle on about what I think about it but I do most certainly believe in it all. Whether it be religion or spirituality there isn't really any harm in hoping, wishing, believing that some of it is real. It can actually do you a lot of good; thinking of the 'impossible.'

Nothing amazing happened today. Never really does, I guess, but at the same time it did. I, like most others, woke up feeling demotivated, uninterested in what the day has ahead, purely because I have to work. I feel uninspired. Yet give me a few hours doing the job I love and I am the happiest little thing ever. Perhaps not 'little'... definitely 'thing'. I always used to resist against the possibility of having to become a care worker. I didn't think wiping bottoms would be 'my' kind of thing when, in actual fact, it is perfect for me. I suit it perfectly. It isn't all about wiping bottoms I found. In fact, most of the people I see don't actually require that kind of care. You get used to who could be a carer and who couldn't cut it pretty quickly. I have had plenty of people being fired or shouted at in an office for 'not being' a carer. You either want to do the job or you want the money. If you're doing it for the money your prospects are fairly low. We are underpaid. Horrifically. 

I feel good today. I feel happy. I am looking forward to the evening ahead which will include annoyance, excitement, arousal and enjoyment. (If I see you later you can pick which category you fit under!)

I have to admit, the best thing I have heard today is 'suck my anus'. 

This is a poor blog, I am sorry, but this has been my day! Wish you were me?!

Hannah xox

Hannah xox

Day 4.

It clings to my back. The suffocating fabric pressing against my chest. My stomach. I begin to wonder if I will make it through the day. I take a little water. Just to take the edge off. The overwhelming nausea. The gentle rumblings of an on coming headache. Must power through. They need you. They need you more than your desire to get back in to bed, sleep, eat, over think.

*

I really didn't want to get up this morning but, at the same time, I didn't want to stay in bed. It was one of those nights. When your fella rolls in at 3am drunk with his friend. Them trying to be quiet, only to make more noise than humanly possible. I didn't really mind. It was nice to know they were there. I hate being home alone; especially at night. It was comforting to hear them talking and laughing; everything felt like it did before. Before all the crap set in. At least that's over with now.

I set my alarm for 6am but after what happened that bank holiday I panic it won't go off. Stupid phone. I kept head butting the air hockey table (long story!) just to check the phone was still charging, checking the alarm was still on.I hate the thought of letting people down. I sat outside the clients house, retching, trying to hold back the disgusting feeling that had taken over my body. Like a morning sickness but more 'out of body'. Keep sipping water, that will stop it.

After making it through the whole day with no real problems I was proud. All I wanted to do was sit in the garden and read. So, I did. I finished my book. You know when something just grips you and even though your head has started to hurt, your arms are aching from propping yourself up and your eyes feel heavy, you have to keep reading? I had that moment. Due to limited books being in the house I have begun reading, shall we say, crime thrillers. Loving it. I always thought I was more of a spiritual, Bronte loving, romance novel kind of girl but there I was, desperate to find out who had been shagging the under age boys and killed Amin. It was intense.

Decided to blog from the bedroom today. That way I have a great view of the trees and the sky. My element. I am feeling reflective, confused, happy, sad, hungry, alone, content, peaceful. (I understand why people say women are hard work, especially when we are contending with all those emotions in one hit. It's not easy, I can tell you that.)

Midday tomorrow and I am finished with work for the weekend. That calls for time at the park, no doubt reading, with cider and people watching opportunities. I can't wait.

Hannah xox

Day 3.

Not worth talking about. Sorry. Bye

Day 2.2

Day 2.1

Nothing has really happened to inspire me to write this but I feel it needs saying. It feels like now, it's not relevant, is the best time to write it; especially seeing as everyone thinks you must be dealing with a problem if you put it down in words.

Why do people assume you are jealous if you don't like someone? Where did that ridiculous idea actually come from? I am so sure it only happens with girls too. If I don't like another girl I am instantly made to feel as though everyone assumes I am jealous of her. Quite frankly, haven't you ever just thought that maybe, just maybe I don't like her because she's an absolute tool? Of course not, that wouldn't create enough drama within a fairly mediocre life would it? 

Women are pretty much made to compete with each other all the time. I love groups of girls purely for the fact that to reassure one another, when a girl doesn't like us, we instinctively announce that they must be jealous. At what point did we think that someone must be jealous of us just because they don't like us? There is no reason behind it. Anyway, if you actually believe someone is jealous of you, doesn't that kind of make you an egotistical tool anyway? Do you think you are better than that person? Just saying...

I hate it. I really do. I hate the thought that, rather than ask why I dislike a person, I have to be subjected to the whole 'oh she's just jealous of you' routine. How dare another person even suggest that without actually finding out the real reason? Conclusions are easier to jump to after all. 

It's healthy to feel jealousy. It's unhealthy to let it consume you. It's also unhealthy to make assumptions about how another person feels before actually finding out. Trust me, I am a doctor, sort of. Not really.

I fully appreciate the female form but if I don't think someone's attractive it doesn't mean I am jealous of them; that's just my taste. If I don't agree with another woman's opinion and say I dislike her morals, it doesn't mean I am jealous; that's just my opinion. Jealousy is a word thrown around with no real thought. It's a cop out. It's a lazy way of finding out the real reasons and it seems to fuel conversations for hours. Especially between the person you're 'jealous' of and others. Funny that.

Maybe it will never change. Perhaps this will forever be the norm, especially between women but there's one thing I will not be having as part of my 'norm' and that's feeling bad about not liking someone. With such a huge amount of people on this planet there will come a time where I will just never get on with them; again, doesn't mean I'm jealous, maybe I just have certain standards.

Hannah xox

Day 2.

Today has been hot. Unbearable for me at times, what with wearing that thick tunic all morning. Sweating before I'd even done much movement. Feeling dizzy. Lots of water, that was the best plan. The only plan I had to keep me from fainting.

*

After waking up and feeling excessively groggy I was hoping that this day would be a good one and, on the whole, it has been. Only a few niggles to sort out.

I had a short day of actual work. Only 3 clients but for longer periods of time. I only do half days so it was nice. It's good to know that I don't have much longer to work in the day. I get to come home and try and tidy the house although the vacuum cleaner has been broken. I get in, get changed, put the washing on and do the washing up. It's pretty much the same routine day in, day out. Well, no one else is going to do it are they? 

Having no real sun out was disappointing. I was looking forward to an afternoon in the garden today. Just me and a book. Perfect. It didn't turn out that way at all though. With no sun I couldn't justify sitting outside despite the heat, I stayed in and did my best with the Facebook pages I manage. It's so satisfying seeing the 'likes' go up throughout the day, after you've been adding your site to every single thing possible in the hope of them. It's strange how much someone liking a page can make me feel like I've achieved something even though in most cases it's a 'like for like' scenario. Anyway, I am rambling.

For a Tuesday it was unusual to see one of my clients, considering my days with her are usually Monday, Wednesday and Friday. It was nice though, her and her husband make me feel very welcome. They're very northern, if that even makes sense. Some of the phrases they come out with are hilarious. The lady I see is completely blind, her husband has very poor vision and their friend who comes round every day, doesn't have much sight either. It's quite comical at times being there. My client shouting at her husband. Her husband shouting at her, telling her to stop moaning. You can tell how much they love each other though.

I nearly didn't blog today. Awful isn't it? Only managed one day before thinking, 'I have nothing worthwhile to say, I won't bother'. I did bother; that's the main thing. I don't want my blog to just be a stuffy, opinionated rant about current affairs or things I am passionate about. I wanted it to be more personal, a diary, a musing on my life's events. At least here, whether it's read or not, I can just say what I am thinking, be a little bit more honest with myself. I can write and don't have to even post it. It can be something to look back on, see what I was doing, how I felt, how much has changed. I'd like that kind of legacy. Even for my children to read in the future...of course, I need to have them first, but that's a long way off yet. Got to find someone who wants children with me first!

It's been a bland kind of day. Nothing amazing happened yet something did. I was greeted in to more homes and allowed to experience how they live. I was able to drive with my window down letting the humid air fill up my car. I got to drink hot water that had been left in the car for an hour. I was able to appreciate cyclist's bottoms.

Hannah xox

Day 1.1

I regularly look upon a blog a friend from college has, with another of her friends, called 'It's hideous I love it.' Quite frankly, I do love it. It's a whole mix of different articles from fashion to diy but with an added bit of quirk. Just my cup of tea. It really opened my eyes to 'what is fashion' and how it's defined. These girls are trendsetters, revolutionaries or at least, soon to be.

It got me thinking about my style and why I choose the clothes I wear nowadays. 

When I was younger I was really keen to follow an 'alternative' fashion route and would regularly try out different pieces and see how I felt. Many a time I felt comfortable, more like myself and this was at the age of 10. However, without naming names, there was a certain person who always made me feel silly, I guess. Uncomfortable. It wasn't necessarily meant in a cruel way but I definitely think it has changed my perception on what I can 'get away with' now. 

My mum had saved a dress from when she was younger and I tried it. I love it but decided it wasn't enough on it's own so teamed it with a black jumper and wore the dress on top. Now, that may not seem like the most alternative form of dress but, for me at the time, when all my friends were wearing Disney t-shirts and shorts, I felt happy with what I was wearing. (Don't get my wrong, I always wanted to be Princess Jasmine though.) I distinctly remember sitting in my parents bedroom, out the way as they had a dinner party, when one of the guests, namely my uncle popped his head round the door and said 'you look different Hannah' to which 'the person who must not be named' said 'it's just a faze.' I instantly changed what I was wearing. Embarrassed by the fact that my chosen outfit had been dismissed as something as trivial as a faze and I wasn't supported in expressing myself.

Another time, before the wonderful trouser-skirts were coming in to fashion, I created a stunning piece of jeans with a bright green, short skirt over the top for a day out in London. I tried it on, took it off, tried just jeans, tried just a skirt but in the end decided to be brave and go with how I felt and wore the two together. (In hindsight, this wasn't my best combination but at the time it made me feel good and that's all that matters!) I stepped out of the house to greet my friend's dad who was driving us, for him to say 'couldn't pick which one to wear today then?' I was mortified not only because of the giggling coming from behind me but also because someone else, not in the family, had the nerve to pretty much criticise my judgement. Needless to say from then on my tastes suddenly became quite bland.

These two instances may not seem completely awful but they really impacted me and my confidence. The way I viewed myself and my clothing choices. It's truly remarkable how a piece of clothing can actually effect how you feel day to day. I can't understand wearing the same styles each day when there are so many different combinations to be had. You surely can't be feeling the same day in, day out, to wear similar clothing all the time?

I guess this is why I started dying my hair. It became the only way I felt good about transforming my look without expressing it through clothing. I gained far too many piercings along the way and went out dressed as a pirate on many a Saturday hand in hand with my best friend at the time and our sandmen. Long story.

 These were taken when I was about 16/17. Clearly I loved leopard print...and still do. I broke away with all convention and care for what others thought of me and just went for it. My identity started to become apparent and I knew I would never be one of the cool kids in their generic clothing. I was glad I wasn't too. 

Fashion shouldn't be a definition of whether you're cool or not. It shouldn't be about whether you own the most expensive item or are wearing the latest trend. It should be about self expression. Finding out what you love, what suits you, what doesn't, what captures your mood at that time. 

My identity has slowly slipped away again but I want to capture it back. I want to go back to feeling like me. Unashamed of what I am wearing just because other people sneer. Unafraid. You should too.

Hannah x

Day 1.

I made this blog weeks ago, yet it's only now that I start bothering to write in it. I have those sudden feelings that, for someone who loves writing, maybe I should actually get on and do it. Now is the time.

The actual focus of this blog is probably more of a diary for me. I don't have any set plan on what I want to write, I just know that I need to write; if you see what I mean?

Perhaps a little bit about me would be a start, before I get too overwhelmed in the flow of more pieces.

Well, my name is Hannah. I don't really have a nickname as such, apart from Squid and even I have forgotten how I got that from my partner! I am currently 23, although in October I turn 24 which is really scaring me. Not because I believe that age is necessarily a huge factor in someone's life but because I don't feel like I've necessarily achieved anything amazing yet.
I work for a local care agency thus making me a care assistant. I love it but don't want to do it forever. My heart lies in many different places so actually choosing a career is daunting. 
In September I start university. I'm not traveling far as it's only 2 days a week but I will be studying Complementary Healthcare. Sounds fancy. It comprises of reflexology, aromatherapy and body massage with lots of other bits thrown in.
I love being in the countryside. There is no place I am more suited for. I feel at home when I am walking through a lush field in the middle of summer, music in my ears. I like to meditate. Remember who I am. Remember that life is too precious to not do anything with it. I love to read. At the moment it's mainly blogs of amazing 'unheard of' writers but they need to be heard. 
Being comfortable in my own skin has always been a battle but I've fought it and won. It does help that I have red hair. Red hair makes everything better. Or so I believe.

I hope you enjoy my blog; assuming that someone reads it! This is my life. My dreams. My fears. My hopes. My loves.

Hannah xox