...Think, Think, Think...

How to look good...dressed

I have the opposite problem to the women on How To Look Good Naked.  I'd probably be Gok's worst nightmare.

I don't hate my body.  I'm not mortified at my own reflection or terrified by the sight of my own naked flesh.  The chances of me insisting that a partner turn the lights out before I strip off is practically zero.

Naked I'm fine with.  Lingerie?  Love it. Clothed though?  I'm not so good.

I went out this afternoon to have a look for some new work clothes.  I'm starting to feel that everything I have in my work wardrobe makes me look frumpy and much older than I really am.  What I'd like is to look stylish and pulled together when I'm at the office, not like I got dressed in the dark from a wardrobe belonging to a 50 year old RE Teacher.

I wandered around a few shops and found some lovely things.  None of them fit.  I found this little lovely, but they didn't have my size.  The size below was too tight and I'm sure the next size up would have just hung off me.  I may order my size off the website and see if its any better. 

I loathe shopping for clothes for this reason.  Either they don't have my size, or the sizing systems are so inconsistent that I end up hacked off by the faff of guessing if things will come up too big/too small and just give up.  I'm pleased to say that I don't usually come away from these ordeals feeling fat.  Generally I blame the shops for being incapable of picking a sizing system and everyone using the same one.  Today though, I do feel a bit rubbish.  Frumpy really.

People often ask me why my obsession lies with makeup and beauty.  Simple answer:  it ALWAYS fits.  Once you know your foundation shade, everything else is a breeze.    I don't ever try 5 different shades of lipstick to find that none of them are right and then leave 20 minutes later hot and flustered from being trapped in a cramped changing room.  Its not that kind of party. 

After putting myself through the ringer I gave up with the clothes shopping and made my way empty handed to Superdrug where I bought new shampoo, conditioner, a couple of styling products and a new mascara as a reward for not having a massive hissy fit about it all.

I was actually starting to feel a bit brighter until I went into McDonalds.  I ordered (large quarter pounder with cheese meal, with a chocolate milkshake) and the cashier went to put everything together.  While he's doing that, another guy comes over, looks at the till from which I've just been served and says, with eyebrows raised "large meal...". 

I understand its best not to be rude to people in the food service industry (for reasons best explained by the movie Waiting), so I just replied, "Yep".  In reality, I could have quite happily thrown my chocolate milkshake in his face, the twat.  I took my food and scurried home, seething more about that than about the lack of clothes-purchasing that I managed to do.

So, other than getting an extra hour in bed this morning today has not been one of my funnest days ever.  Not to worry though, I'm about to go and finish my milkshake and do my hair.  Naked probably. I think I look better that way.

A confession, a song and a quiz

So...I'm pleased to say that none of you immediately guessed my guilty pleasure from the list below (although one of my work colleagues looked through the DVDs when I was returning them and she got it right off the bat).  It's Danny Dyer.  I've never been one for a bit of rough, tending to prefer my men better dressed but emotionally unavailable.  Oh, hold on. The last bit wasn't a preference, just an unfortunate coincidence.  Still, I think he's pretty hot.

The song I couldn't remember but felt akin to was Every Day is Exactly The Same by Nine Inch Nails, which since its use in the film Wanted has probably become the theme song of every scorned office worker secretly wishing they could be an assassin. And even the ones that dont.  It pushes the buttons that 9 to 5 by Dolly Parton couldn't.

Roses over at Journeying posted one of those MeMe quizes and although I don't make a habit of doing these, I thought I'd do this one.  One day I may re-do the 100 things about me post that I used to have on here in another lifetime, but at the moment thats a lot of things to write down!

1. First thing you wash in the shower?
My hair, that way I can wash the conditioner residue off when I wash the rest of my body, thus reducing the risk of backne, which is not hot.

2. What color is your favorite hoodie?
I don't own a hoodie.

3. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?
Oh hell yes.

4. Do you plan outfits?
Sometimes.  I have to look presentable for work, so I try to match things.

5. How are you feeling RIGHT now?
A bit disappointed that its Sunday already, but looking forward to going out in a little while.

6. Whats the closest thing to you that's red?
The handle on some Smashbox makeup brushes.

7. Tell me about the last dream you remember having?
I was in a restaurant with my dad.  I don't remember what we ate.

8. Did you meet anybody new today?
Its only 10:17am at this point, but I doubt I will.

9. What are you craving right now?
A substantial lottery win.  No seriously, a milkshake from ShakeAway would be good.

10. Do you floss?
Sometimes.  I'm on a bit of a tooth whitening kick at the moment, so I'll probably start again.

11. What comes to mind when I say cabbage?
Shredded, coleslaw.

12. Are you emotional?
Yeah, probably too much.

13. Have you ever counted to 1,000?
At school probably.  I usually get as far as 15, maybe 20 and then blow my stack.

14. Do you bite into your ice cream or just lick it?
I lick, sensitive teeth and all that.

15. Do you like your hair?
Love it.  I'll love it more when my roots get sorted out next weekend.

16. Do you like yourself?
Yeah.  I think in spite of spending lots of time wondering how the fuck I got where I am and pondering the futility of life, I'm pretty cool.

17. Would you go out to eat with George W. Bush?
Is he paying? Might be worth a laugh.  If nothing else it'd be a good blog post.  And for once, I'd know more about politics than the other person at the table.

18.What are you listening to right now?
Drowning (Face Down) by Saving Abel.  Awesome song, awesome band. I urge you to listen.

19. Are your parents strict?
Not overly so, but I knew my boundaries and was never so stupid to cross them.

20. Would you go sky diving?
Never say never, but I strongly doubt it. 

21. Do you like cottage cheese?
No.  Its baby sick.  But I understand its potential for those on a diet.  If its all you can have and its so disgusting you can't bring yourself to eat it, it makes it much easier to consume fewer calories.

23. Do you rent movies often?
I go through phases.  I may not rent anything for a couple of months, then rent 5 films each weekend for a month.

24. Is there anything sparkly in the room you're in?
I'm in my bedroom, so yes.  Nearest to me is the handle of an Agent Provocateur Riding Crop which was bought on a (rather expensive) whim - it has a green diamante encrusted handle.  Other than that, tons of costume jewellery.

25. How many countries have you visited?
Six.  Which is pitiful.

26. Have you made a prank phone call?
No, been on the receiving end of one though.

27. Ever been on a train?
Of course.

28. Brown or white eggs?
Whatever is in the box.

29. Do you have a cellphone?
I have a Sony Ericsson C902, which I love.  But I want, want, want an iPhone.

30. Do you use chap stick?
Amongst many other lip balms, yes.

32. Can you use chop sticks?
I can, but I usually don't.

33. Who are you going to be with tonight?
Either my friends or my thoughts.  Depends what time I get home.

34. Are you too forgiving?
I probably am.  There are a lot of people, particularly in my past, that I should tell to fuck right off.  I don't, because I don't really want to cause too much bad feeling.

35. Ever been in love?
I've been in love a few times.  The rub was that the objects of my affection didn't reciprocate.

36. What is your best friend(s) doing tomorrow?
Looking for a job.

37. Ever have cream puffs?
Yes.  Not my favourite, but I've had them.

38. Last time you cried?
About a week ago.  In the car on the way to a meeting with a colleague and out of sheer frustration at something that happened the day before.  Poor sod, didn't know where to look.  He just said "Pretty blondes in nice cars aren't meant to be crying.  They'll think its my fault".  He's hilarious sometimes.

39. What was the last question you were asked?
"Is 11:30am okay?"  And it is.

40. Favorite time of the year?
Winter - because of Christmas and the associated fairy lights.

41. Do you have any tattoos?
Just the one.

42. Are you sarcastic?
Yes.

43. Have you ever seen The Butterfly Effect?
No.  Didn't fancy it.

44. Ever walked into a wall?
Only metaphorically.  I did literally walk into a tree one day last year, cue mild concussion.
 
45. Favorite color?
Teal.

46. Have you ever slapped someone?
Yes and he deserved it.  It probably wasn't hard enough either.

47. Is your hair curly?
Not without some help.  Its poker straight.

48. What was the last CD you bought?
Scars and Souvenirs by Theory of a Deadman.  If you like Nickelback, you'll like these guys.  Awesome, good old fashioned Rock n Roll.

49. Do looks matter?
Yes.  I think pride in your appearance is a big thing.

50. Could you ever forgive a cheater?
I think its all a context thing, but yeah, I could.

51. Is your phone bill sky high?
No, I get lots of inclusive minutes.

52. Do you like your life right now?
Its okay.  Some areas could be better but I can't change them right now.

53. Do you sleep with the TV on?
Most nights I do.  I sometimes remember to set the sleep timer but more often than not I forget.

54. Can you handle the truth?
Yep.

55. Do you have good vision?
Its not perfect, but its okay.

56. Do you hate or dislike more than 3 people?
I can think of two people that pushed me to that point when they were around me.  They aren't anymore so I'm just indifferent.

57. How often do you talk on the phone?
In my personal life, at least once but all day long for work.

58. The last person you held hands with?
What about them?

59. What are you wearing?
A t-shirt and shorts.  I'm not dressed yet. Which is a bit of an issue given that its 10:40am.  I'm going out at 11:30am.

60.What is your favorite animal?
I know that Alexandr the meerkat isn't real, but I love him.
 
61. Where was your default picture taken at?
My bathroom!

62. Can you hula hoop?
I could when I was a kid.

63. Do you have a job?
Yes.

64. What was the most recent thing you bought?
I bought all sorts yesterday.  Dry Shampoo, Shower Gel, various foodstuffs.

65. Have you ever crawled through a window?
Yeah, I think so.

66. When was the last time you've been to church?
A funeral last May.  I wish it had been in different circumstances.

67. What's your least favorite meal?
I really don't like Cottage Pie.

68. Did you ever steal anything by mistake?
No.

69. Have you ever won anything?
£85 on the lottery a couple of weeks back, which was a nice surprise.

Found Ya...

Sometimes, as most bloggers probably do, I like to have a look and see how people have found my site.

A lot of the time its either people who have my bookmarked, or find me through another blog I read but occasionally they find me through a search engine.

Yesterday, someone found my blog after typing in "How to fix a bad mother-daughter relationship".

I don't know if that person found any useful information in my posts.  But, if you are that person and you happened to have come back I'll give you my honest opinion.

If it's recently gone bad, you might be able to fix it.  If it's always been bad, you have to find a way to reconcile it in your head and come to terms with the fact that you're probably never going to have that "my mother is my best friend" thing happening.  Another helpful tool is to look at your mother's relationship with her mother.  If it was bad, there's a pattern here and on some level you have to consciously break that cycle - for your own sake.

It took me a lot of counselling and soul searching before I realised that I was tying myself in knots to please my mother and it was totally pointless.  It never worked.  It was never enough and I got tired of feeling like I was never enough.

Its been a few years now since I was in therapy working through it all, but I can honestly say that now, other than the odd frustration at things that go on in my house I'm totally at ease with the fact that we're not that family. 

I aspire to more for my children.  I want to be a good mother for them if/when I have them.  I don't want to make them feel like I felt for way too much of my life.

Thats just my two cents worth, if you've come back that is.  If you're reading and you're not that searcher, then you've just had another bit of insight into my inner workings!

To Do List Item - Reduce Swearing?

This is a snippet of a conversation I had with my colleague today, I've cut out most of the whining done beforehand:

Me - "...I mean I'm not that horrible.  I'm direct, yeah.  But not horrible."

Him - "No, you're not horrible.  You are direct though.  And you swear a lot."

Me - "Yeah, I do."

Him - "You swear as much as I do and I swear all the motherfucking time."

Me - "Yeah, you do.  But really, is it soo bad that I swear?"

Him - "It doesn't bother me.  Its not all that ladylike and if you were in my team I'd probably end up speaking to you to tell you to stop."

Me - "Well, I'm not in your team.....so fuck you."

God I'm witty. 

Really though, it seems as if I need to try and stop swearing.  Or at least cut back.

The problem is I love it.

Did you ever see the clip from Denis Leary's "No Cure for Cancer" where he does a little bit about how he loves to smoke?  Well, I feel the same about swearing.

I love it almost as much as I love Seinfeld and nice lingerie and bright coloured eyeliner and spaghetti carbonara (NB:  I love all of these things a whole lot).  There is something so bizarrely satisfying about having a little sweary rant when you've just spoken to a rude customer or stupid supplier on the phone.  And a girl saying the "C" word - awesome.  No one expects a girl to say that word and when you do...that look of shock?  Thats good shit.

One of the misconceptions about swearing (or cursing, for those over the pond) is that it indicates a lack of vocabulary or is a sign of ignorance.   I don't think thats true.  I'd consider myself pretty wordy.  Verbose at times even.  And Ignorant?  No, I don't think so.

I think I'm a reasonably intelligent woman.  I know stuff.  I can string together an eloquent sentence if required.  I could get by without swearing.

But I could get by without Seinfeld, nice lingerie, brightly coloured eyeliner and spaghetti carbonara too and you know, I don't think I want to.

Boxes - Part 2

Continued from Boxes - Part 1

My counsellor, of course, didn't have the answer to my box conundrum.  Only I could work that out.  Nothing comes on a silver platter (except possibly sandwiches and canapes, but I was fairly sure they had nothing to do with the box).

This meant that I had to work it out for myself.  Sure enough, I did.

I have real issues with a few things in this world.  The real biggie is my loathing for people who don't use the brain they were bornn with.  It drives me insane.  There are so many things in this big wide world that you can learn, so many things that happen, why would you bury your head in the sand?

That was when I realised what the metaphor was.  The box is my life.  And at that moment, without sounding wildly melodramatic I realised that it was pretty much empty.  I didn't feel like I was achieving or learning or growing and somehow I wasn't taking responsibility for that.  I was happy to get home, slob out in bed watching tv and then complain that I wasn't getting anywhere.

That had to change and change straight away.

So I changed it.  I enrolled on two courses, one on the Alexander Technique and one on Forensic Psychology.  The Alexander Technique serves two purposes.  Firstly its a new thing to learn, but secondly and probably more importantly its something I can use.  I'm tall, my posture is shocking and the whole point of AT is to use your posture to improve your health overall.  I'm totally willing to give that a try.  The Forensic Psychology is just something I'm interested in.  If you set me down in front of the Crime and Investigation network, I'm a happy camper.  I love that stuff.  I don't know that its a career path that I'd look at going down but you  never know.

I realised that I was unhappy at work, but not really because I don't like my job.  Sure it frustrates me, but everyone goes through that.  I was unhappy at work because really, I was feeling totally unfulfilled at home and so had this massive expectation that I'd find a sense of fulfillment at work.  When I realised that wasn't happening I felt resentful.  Feeling that I can now find fulfillment through something other than my job, my outlook is different and I don't dread going to the office.

As well as all of the above, I joined the gym.  I've threatened to go for ages, but when the local gym here had a re-fit I decided that it would be a good time to start.  I've had a cold and a pulled muscle that stopped me going, but I start again tomorrow with a vengeance.

I'm not going to the gym to lose weight or run a marathon or anything as extreme as that.  I'm going because I need to keep the box that is my life in better shape.  Consider it a little french polishing, keeping everything shiny.

I explained all this to the counsellor and he was pleased that I'd worked through it all.  When I get to that point it means I stop going to the sessions which is a shame because I really love having an impartial person to talk through my issues with, but I can always go back if I need to.

The most important thing is that I actually feel better about everything.  I don't care what people  think of me and my chosen path at the moment because its my path and I chose it.  I'm not ambling, I'm walking towards something for the first time ever, in my adult life at least.  It feels pretty damn good.

So that was my box story.  I'm now off to write two assignments for my courses.  Look at me, all student-y.

Boxes - Part 1

I've intentionally split this post into two as its something I want to write about, but there'sd a lot of information and background to it.  You get part one today and probably part two during the middle of this week.

Of late, I haven't felt like the most inspired, warm, fuzzy, friendly, positive bunny in the meadow.  I've been intolerant of various people in various situations and intolerance with no release leads to evil plotting.  Sort of desperate fantasizing about the things you wish that you could do but would probably make you extremely unpopular and probably cost you your job.

This means that a trip to the counsellor was due.  Things usually improve after a few visits.

My main issue this time has been at least partially linked to the announcement that several people around me are pregnant.  Naturally, I'm happy for them but in the grand scheme of things I'm not massively interested.  I don't much care for babies.  4/5 year olds that say hilariously inappropriate things? Oh yes.  But Babies?  No.  I guess they'll have to come back in a few years to catch my interest.

There is, however, one thing I dislike more than babies.  One thing that really, really pisses me off. And that is people who tell me that when I meet the right man, I'll feel differently about it all. 

I don't like being told how I'll feel by anyone.  I especially don't like being made to feel that because I'm single and not baby-crazy, I'm a - inferior (because really, getting pregnant is like the hardest thing ever - have you seen some of the retards out there that breed?) or b - that I don't know my own mind.  I really do.  I really, really, really know that I don't like babies.  I do see myself with kids at some point.  I however don't particularly see myself being pregnant and you can bet your sweet arese that I don't see myself going through labour so thats all going to provide a slight challenge to the obtaining of babies, short of some kind of weird Raising Arizona set up or adotoption or something.  

My closest friends know better.  I don't have many friends with babies, but those that do have never given me that little speech.  One friend of mine just had her third child 3 months ago and only told me she was pregnant when she was 4 months gone by saying "I did tell you I was pregnant didn't I?"  and then for the remainng 5 months hardly talked about it at all.  She just got on with it.  Maybe she's a pro and by baby #3 its just not a big deal.  I don't know.

This was all bugging me big-time and I relay all of this information to the counsellor and he asks me why I think its bothering me so much, am I jealous?  I think about it, the shitty nappies and the puking and the no sleep and the labour and no.  I'm not jealous.

Then, he hits the nail right on the head.  I don't have a comeback and thats the problem.

I can't say to these people that hassle me about not being settled down/pregnant "Well, yes, I'm not married and pregnant because I've been studying to be a doctor/promoting my new film/preparing for my first mission to Mars" because I haven't done any of those things*. 

Which leaves me with a quandry.  What do I want to do?   Not an easy question to answer.

The counsellor had me write my obituary.  Dark.  Also, not easy when you don't know what you're trying to achieve.  It was interesting to work through the stuff I don't want to do or be and I managed to find out a few of the things that are important to me.  Unfortunately it still didn't provide me with any comforting insights.

The next week, he had me do sort of a guided meditation and I went to the House of my Soul.  Everytime I say that, either out loud or in my head I end up following it with "Ooooohhhh" because it sounds slightly sinister.

So, off I go.  It was a nice house.  I was there, a few years older but aging pretty well and looking pretty happy.  That probably had something to do with the fact that I was clearly doing well in general, the house was massive.  At the end of its own gravel driveway.  With gates.

He told me that in the house, someone would be there and someone would give me something or might even tell me something and that I was to thank them and take whatever item or wisdom they gave me.

I gave myself a box. 

A chinese black lacquered box, with a really pretty mother of pearl inlay on the hinged lid.  Similar to one I'd seen at the V&A a couple of days before.

What.  The.  Fuck.

*You're surprised aren't you?  You all thought that my huge gaps between posts were due to my busy career in medicine/film/space travel. Its not.  I'm just a lazy blogger.

Random Beth Facts #2

Thank you all very much for your comments on my last post, my ankle is all better now.  The bruising got a bit worse as that week wore on (on the worst day you could see all the colours from the rainbow song, which I was pretty impressed with!) and its totally gone now.

I haven't really done much these last couple of weeks.  Last weekend my dad had hired a car for something as his was isbehaving and he got an automatic so I could do some of the driving.  I did ok, other than fighting not to lose my rag wit being told "overtake here", "watch your braking" etc.  Sunday I took the car out by myself and managed to deal with the M25, the Dartford Crossing (both bridge and tunnel!) and bay parking at Bluewater all without having a meltdown.  I'm not planning on buying a car any time soon, but its good that I hadn't totally forgotten what to do behind the wheel.

As not much has happened, I'm doing another "Random Facts" post. I did one last year and so I think its time for a few additions.

Having seen the new Batman film, I do not think Heath Ledger deserves a posthumous Oscar.  Yes, he put in a good performance.  Yes, it is sad that he died so young.  But no, this is not Oscar-worthy stuff.  He'll win it of course, because the wrong people always win.

I have a slight addiction problem with Cherry 7-Up.  Its hard to find over here, so when I do find it I buy lots and am probably well on the way to wrecking my teeth.

I absolutely always read any takeaway menus we get put through the door and check for spelling mistakes.  I even did this in a pub a couple of weekends ago.  If you're printing something to give to customers, go on, try spellcheck in Word.  Its fab.

I have a lingerie and cosmetic habit.  I am forever buying new undies or new makeup and I need neither.  I can't help it, I like pretty things!

A few weekends ago, I went with some friends to Crews Hill.  For those not in the South East of England, its a town on the outskirts of London well known for its ridiculous number of Nurseries/Garden Centres.  Apparently its lovely at Christmas but I've never been. Anyway, we went, looking for a garden gnome.  One place in particular had a pet store and they had Westie puppies.  I love Westies.  I fell in love with one of them and as much as I'd have loved to buy him, I didn't have the required £600 sitting around to spare.  I said my goodbye and that puppy watched me the whole time I walked out of the shop.  I am still getting flashbacks of his gorgeous little face and I'm really hoping he's gone to a good home.

I just have to get through Monday morning at work and then I don't have to go back for the rest of the week.  Even better, I still have 3 weeks of holiday time to use up before the end of this calendar year.  I am extremely excited about this.  I'm not going away, but I love lazy weeks off.

Something else I'm alo extremely excited about; two months today Hockey season starts again.  This means lots of late nights and listening to hockey commentary over the net.  Lets Go Lightning.

Thats all I've got for now...hope you're having a great weekend so far!

Overhauling

I say it all the time.

"I need to make changes in my life.  I need to do (insert unfulfilled task here)"

With everything that has happend recently, I made a start. Just with a few little things.

I went out both nights this weekend.  This is practically unheard of.  I tend to just vegetate in bed.

Today, I did a bit of reorganisation in my bedroom.  Still living with my folks means that most of my worldly possessions are in my bedroom, and its the box room.  The smallest one in the house.  I managed to through out all manner of crap that I was keeping for some unknown reason.  I rearranged my make up baskets too. 

I think the most significant thing I did was delete a whole bunch of people from Facebook.  People who called themselves my "friends".  People who I worked with that I haven't spoken to in over a year and who made no effort to contact me.  People who are spiteful and bitchy and gossipy that I plain and simply don't need in my life.

You know something?  It feels so fucking good to do that.  I highly recommend it if you have people in your list that aren't really your friends.  To just go "nope, don't need you in my stratosphere anymore bitches..buh-bye now" and just click the little x.  I would expect that one of them will notice, that they'll all gather together like a little coven and slag me off.  Can you guess how much I care?  I bet you can...

I'm not sure what other things I'll be aiming to change, but I figure if I try and make one small change each day I'll be moving forward.

Other than the Facebook deletions, makeup re-shuffle and throwing out of crap, you may notice that I've also changed my profile picture.

This one was taken just after dinner last night.  I was with a group of 9 people, one I know fairly well, one I know a bit (it was his birthday) and 7 strangers.  It was quite fun in a "I'm not really sure how we ended up here" way and my friend snapped that picture of me just towards the end of the night.

Thats all for today.  No deep and meaningful posts.  No in depth analysis of my life.  Just a new picture.

And the tip that deleting Facebook "friends" is the new therapy.

"...but don't take it personally."

A week or so ago, I had a meeting with my line manager.  She was about to go on holiday for a week and she wanted to talk to me about the new member of staff in the team.

"Now, these are just my observations and hers too..." she began, "...I don't want you to take any of this personally."

From this point onwards, depending on how I'm feeling I can either describe it as a character assasination or constructive criticism.  She told me that I was scary to the new person in the team.  That I was very blunt and direct and that this could be intimidating.  She wanted me to be nicer.

If she wants me to be fluffy while the new girl is getting settled I'll be fluffy.  It either means that when I start being myself again it'll be a huge culture shock for her or when she sees me being myself with everyone else she'll either think I'm treating her differently or I'm completely schizophrenic.  That said, its not my decision, I'm just a sheep in the flock.

The one part that has plagued me is  the statement "now..don't  take it personally."  How can I not take personally being told that in short I'm not a nice person.  Maybe I'm exaggerating, but that really is how it feels at times.

I'm the first to admit that I'm blunt and direct.  Usually for the purposes of humour but also because in my job i'm a busy person.  Every day we have a shit-load to do and if you're asking me a stupid question (particularly if I've given you a fucking checklist of what to do which you then disregard) then you better believe I'll be blunt.  Life is short, I don't want to waste it repeating myself.

She asked if it was easy to get to know me.  It crossed my mind to say "Well, its such an objective question.  I mean, can you really ever "know" someone."  I didn't, I said "that depends if I want someone to get to know me."  Its an obvious answer really.  I don't give huge amounts of my personality away at work.  I like to keep things separate.  There's Work Beth, Home Beth, Out with Friends Beth, Dumped Beth, Horny Beth.  Many, many different Beths.  There is one fairly strong theme that accompanies all these different Beths though (and it isn't the name "Beth").  Its my wit.  I'm dry.  I'm sarcastic.  Its my favourite thing about myself.  Apparently thats part of the problem. 

Its a tough one.  Being asked to change an integral part of your personality.  I didn't put up much of an argument to the conversation just because there wasn't any point.   Its a situation that there wasn't an apropriate rebuttle for I just nodded and smiled in the right places. 

The boss told me it was because she wants to develop me and that having good people skills is very important.  My people skills with the other 15 members of staff are fine, it seems its just with the new ones I have to pretend to be someone else. 

Ironically, she hadn't realised that an element of my personality she doesn't see is the side that actually gets quite wounded at those sort of comments.  I'm actually quite soft.  I'd consider myself a nice person.  I buy random gifts for people.  I rescue insects from the bathtub before I have a shower rather than drowining them.  If someone has had a bad day I try to do something nice for them.  This applies to people at work.  I buy sweets for the office if we're really busy. If someone sighs I ask if everything is ok (although I did this to the owner during the week and he bit my head off).  If someone is stressed about a task they're doing I offer to help.  I try to make people happy if I can.

When comments like hers are made it makes me want to withdraw all the personality I have and just work.  No laughing with colleagues.  No jokes.  No checking people are okay.  Just a robot.

Perhaps thats better, you know?  Better I have no personality at all than one that resembles some sort of witch.  Maybe the battleaxe comment made by someone else was right...maybe I'm just not a people person.

The Beth of New

For those of you who are interested (so arrogant of me, to think that you're interested in my bullshit!) I have still heard nothing from the man.  I have uncovered information that leads me to believe he may be in LA, but I have no idea if this is permanent.  Naturally, I've tried to find out.  Quelle surprise, I've had no reply.  No reply to "So, looking at your profile, it certainly looks like you've moved to LA.  Is this in preparation for when you go, or have you already moved?.  Not even any reply to "I haven't heard from you for over 2 weeks and online it looks like you've moved to the other side of the world.  Whats going on?"

So here I am.  When I uncovered this info on Monday morning, I cried.  I was really upset.  How could he do that?  Then, after somewhere between five and ten minutes, I stopped.  Why the fuck was I crying?  What can I do about that?  If he's gone to LA to work for a few weeks and can't be bothered to tell me, I can't do anything about it.  If he's taken the coward's way out and just moved out there with so much as a goodbye, I can't do anything about it.

That realisation, the notion that life is just a river and I just have to flow with it - its helped a lot.  The Beth of old would likely have spent that whole day in bed sobbing, calling every 10 minutes, emailing. Trying to track him down like some depraved bloodhound.

The Beth of new got dressed, went out and had lunch with a friend and then spent the rest of the day chilling out and watching movies.  The friend I had lunch with couldn't work out why I was so passive.  We've worked together in the past and he's seen me get wound up over things.  I never get really angry over relationships.  Upset?  HELL yeah.  Never angry though.  I always kind of think that anger is only upset manifesting in a different way, so I just go for the pure form.

The next day, the Beth of new went and had lunch with another old friend.  Someone I don't see much, but when I do see things are just like they were when we last hung out.  He's an absolute sweetheart and I can only hope that everyone has a friend like him somewhere.

Yesterday, I went to London.  I used to love going into the big city, but yesterday I noticed it didn't have the same appeal as it used to.  I think I'm too polite for it.  I say please and thank you.  I apologise if I almost blind someone with my umbrella or decapitate them with my stupid bloody rucksack.  I had a disappointing wander around the Tate Modern , there were lots of school trips and I'm not sure a modern art gallery is any place for a child.  At least not when I'm there.  I managed to spend a bit of time in the Rothko room, which is my favourite part of the whole place, only leaving when a tour guide brought a small crowd of people into the room to explain about it.  It made me want to scream "Do you have to have this spoon fed to you?!  Are you all such lazy slobs that you have to have someone lead you by the hand round the museum?!  Can't you figure it out for yourself?!"  Its modern art people, no one can tell you what it means.  Thats sort of the point.

After that, I set about spending money (I'm so good at it, it'd be a shame not to).  First stop, Screenface in Covent Garden to get some new make-up brushes.  Then to Waterstones on Piccadilly to buy The Game by Neil Strauss.  I'm about 150 pages in so far and its pretty good.  I was on my way to get some lunch (at 3pm, mind you) at Wagamama and I was stopped by one of those charity-get-you-to-make-regular-donation-workers.  Only one of the good ones.  You know the sort that manage to lure you in by being witty and complimenting you and all the other things that appeal to the ego?  He was one of those.  We must have been chatting for a good 20 minutes, if not more. He asked me if I was swedish.  I get that a lot.  Its the extra-fair/blonde combo I think, because I'm not.  I'm a mixture of English and Welsh stock, with a healthy dose of MENTAL thrown in for good measure.  Anyway, a nice chat later and I'm now donating a small portion of a my meagre wage to help disadvantaged kids.  Its a good cause, as long as they don't take them to galleries.

After lunch and my random chat with a stranger, I had a quick browse in Lush on Regent St and bought some Bath Bombs (I love 'em.  They cost about the same as a whole bottle of normal bubble bath, but who cares) and then went and met fellow blogger Clare for the first time.  We've read eachothers blogs for what seems like forever, we've emailed and texted but never met! We grabbed drinks in Starbucks (I love Starbucks but apparently they're very bad and whilst convincing me to give cash, charity worker mentioned above recommended Monmouth Coffee which I'll try next time I'm over that way) and ended up wandering around because it was raining and nowhere had anywhere to sit!  It was nice to be able to put a face to a name after all this time and we're going to have lunch sometime soon hopefully.

Today I've been lazy.  At some point in the above shopping escapade I bought series 4 of Northern Exposure and I stayed in bed til 1pm today, being a lazy cow and watching at least 4 episodes. I can justify that as tomorrow I'll be up at 5am-ish, leaving my house at 6am to go to a meeting.  I had a text from the person I'm going with to say "Are you still ok for 06:00"  To which I could only reply"I'm as ok as I'm ever going to be for a 6am start".

Hopefully, that meeting will finish early enough that I can be home with enough time to have a nap before I go out in London again tomorrow night.  Its my friends birthday and as I'm going to start making an effort to actually go out more, I'm going into Soho with him and his friends (all gay I think).  IT means I get to have a look at the 2 potential boyfriends he has, try to ignore his most recent ex (twat) and have a bit of a giggle.  Its a bit out of character.  Not very me to cnsider being out late in a bar.

The thing of it is, I've realised that I've been Me for a while now and I don't think Me is very happy.  I'm considering switching to "New and Improved Me - with added happy".  I'll report back soon and let you know how I get on.