He Won’t, So I Will

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I rarely check the Daily Post Prompts these days, but for once, being almost caught up on my reading, I did.

I think right now it’s quite apt, so I’m going to go ahead and complete the challenge, which is:

Right To Brag – Tell us about something you (or a person close to you) have done recently (or not so recently) that has made you really, unabashedly proud.

Have I ever told you about my best friend Lee? I know for sure I have mentioned him in posts before, but have I ever sat down to tell you about him and how amazing he is.

When people look at you like you are crazy and tell you that friendships cannot be formed with people you meet on the Internet, I’d like you to politely inform them that they are talking bollox!

Lee and I met on the Internet and have been friends for over a decade yet we have never met in person. It will happen someday, hopefully soon, but we have no less of a friendship because to date it has not happened.

Lee’s been with me through some of both the best and worst moments of my life. He’s resisted the temptation to tell me to eff off on many occasions when I was doing his head in and on other occasions wound me up so much that I was floating just below the ceiling. He gets me, and bless him, puts up with me.

He’s been through quite a lot of hardship himself over the last few years, but the thing is, he will always put others first. You have to trust me when I tell you that I am just one of a very long list of people who have love and admiration for this fellow.

When you have a big heart, you need a big body to hold it, couple that with suffering with Lymphedema of the legs and it makes it hard to shed any excess weight that you accumulate. It’s a battle in itself, but one that Lee took on head first when he decided to check out his options for a Gastric Bypass. There are people who will be judgmental and perhaps say this is the easy option for someone who suffers from weight problems, but they would be wrong. Both mentally and physically it is an uphill battle.

In order  to be considered for the surgery Lee had to start his weight loss journey on his own and mentally prepare himself. When you have a friendship with food, it is not easy to sever ties, but through dogged determination, Lee did everything that was asked of him and then some, shedding over and above what he had been asked, and securing his place for surgery.

On Tuesday the 21st July, Lee had his Gastric Bypass and started a new chapter of his life.

It’s not going to be easy for him, he knows this, but I hope he also knows that all of his friends are behind him every step of the way. He’s worked hard to make it to this point and the hard work will have to continue, but he’s determined and I have every faith that he will make it.

I hope that now you can see for yourself why my best friend is in fact amazing and when I tell you that to date his total weight loss is a whopping 17st, you will understand why I am so unabashedly proud of him!

If you wish to follow Lee’s journey you can do so here on The Fat Mans Blog

I found a fountain pen!

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Image by Herrfous

 

It was buried at the bottom of an old pencil case, dry as a bone and with spots of rust starting to take form on the nib. I cleaned it and changed the cartridge, but it still runs dry. It’s been neglected for too long.

I used to love writing, little notes, poems, scribblings in a jotter. It was what I wanted to do, although I was a realist and knew for certain it would never be my fortune. I was never without a notebook for any length of time, sadly not always the same one, meaning I sometimes created mash ups without even trying.

I cringe now when I read back over some of the things I wrote, all that teenage angst flowing through my body and out the nib of a pen, worse still was I was in my twenties! Teenage angst didn’t happen in the back of beyond, there were only hay bales, tractors and young farmers who allegedly did it in wellies. It was only when I moved to the big smoke that I discovered this inner me and my love for the written word.

Seriously, if you don’t believe me when I tell you how bad they were then let me prove it to you:

Be Funny

They say be funny,
I don’t feel like being funny!

I make faces in the mirror,
but that just makes me sad,
I notice yet another spot,
so now I’m feeling mad.
My Mum shouts “Dinners ready now”
perhaps things aren’t so bad,
I  go downstairs and stuff my face,
at last I’m feeling glad.

That said, reading back over them now I can remember both the situation and my feelings at the time, albeit in most cases now my heart is no longer breaking….yup…love was a recurring theme, that and loneliness.

Single Sided Love

I know she loves you.
I can see it in her eyes.
She wants to end your sentences,
but cannot find the words.
She holds you tight,
like if she lets you go,
she’ll loose you forever.
Yes,
she definitely loves you,
but you offer nothing in return.

It’s funny, when you’re younger, actually, any age, when you fall out of love you feel your heart will never mend, especially if you were not the one to actually fall out of it in the first place. You swear you’ll never do it again, and relationships become a taboo subject.

The Burden

I’ll walk up and down the street,
and they’ll say to me,
“What is it that you are carrying in that plastic bag,
that looks so heavy?”
And I’ll say
“My Heart”

Time however is a good healer and with time you become a little more comfortable and sure about your new status. I say a little, because there is always room for improvement.

Part-Time Lonely Heart

I tell everyone I am fine,
happy to be on my own.
But am I?
Sometimes yes,
sometimes no.
A part-time lonely heart.

Eventually you’ll realise there is life after love and that actually despite what you thought for the last three months the world did manage to keep on spinning. Time to get your shit together.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow,
when day breaks,
and the sun again resides in her palace,
the birds will sing,
and rejoice,
for a new day will have begun.

Written for todays Daily Prompt from the diaries of my twenty something self. There really never was much hope for me was there :)

Those Salad Days

The Daily Prompt asks:

Is there a period in your own personal life that you think of as the good old days? Tell us a story about those innocent and/or exciting times (or lack thereof).

It would be really easy for me to say that ‘the good old days’ were those before my leg injury and the onset of the Motherships dementia, but that would be a lie, because even back then things were far from perfect.

It would be really nice to say that it was the days before crippling worry and anxiety, but I can’t remember a time without them, and sadly my memory is not what it used to be.

I’d love to tell you it was my school days, but I was bullied. Retaining puppy fat and being somewhat ginger into your teens is a tough cross to bear. Hang in there though my ginger friends, because when you reach a certain age people will be matching your hair to the colour charts on the side of a box of hair dye because they admire it so much. Little do they know that these days mine is enhanced courtesy of one of those very same little boxes.

There is one constant though, life is shit, and it has lots of ups and downs, but everyday, there are still reasons to smile, even if you are so deep in shit that you can no longer see the tops of your wellies, there are still reasons to smile. For me, those are the good old days.

For my friends who ran barefoot with me on beaches and carried me home when I was drunk (thank feck I have strong friends). For the ones who made me laugh until a wee bit of wee came out and cried with me to acknowledge heartbreak. For the people I have loved and lost, whose memories will never die and for the nights under starry skies where you are thankful to be alive to witness it. For all my friends and family, a million and one reasons to smile.

Every moment, every event, every interaction, a memory that can be added into the album entitled ‘The Good Old Days’.

~Written for the Daily Prompt: Salad Days

 

 

By heart….

Singing Eejit

The Daily Prompt asks:

You’re asked to recite a poem (or song lyrics) from memory — what’s the first one that comes to mind? Does it have a special meaning, or is there another reason it has stayed, intact, in your mind?

‘More than words’ by Extreme, that’s the one that springs to my mind. Released in 1990 I believe, it was once of the most played songs on the radio when I started my first year of work in 1991. I knew it off by heart, crooning or was that caterwauling along in front of the mirror, a hair brush for a microphone.

If you’re a regular follower of my blog you will know I used to write a piece called ‘The Office Eejits’, you think they were bad, they are nothing compared to the original crew. One guy, let’s for talk sake call him Bart, because that’s what he was like, an adult Bart Simpson,  and I got on famously and every morning around tea break we used to enter all the competitions on a particular radio station.  Well Bart and I had every version of Car stickers, pin badges, pens and pencils that the radio station had to offer. We were even told on more than one occasion that we were not allowed to enter as we were winning too much.

This particular week they were giving away tickets to see Extreme live in Belfast. I wanted those tickets…I wanted them bad. In the morning competition Bart managed to get through and after being asked a question, which to be fair wasn’t that difficult, won a set of the tickets. I was so jealous, but resigned myself to the fact I would have to wait until the next day. As luck would have it, we (Bart and I) were working late that night and another chance came up, and I was on it like a car bonnet!

Waiting to get through to a radio station, hosting a competition for something you really want has to be the most nerve wracking experiences ever. Bart sitting across the office from me was urging me to hang on and eventually the phone was answered, to be honest now I can’t remember who by, but I was getting my chance at tickets. All set and ready to answer my question I prepared myself, I could do this! When the DJ told me that in order to win tickets I would have to sing the first verse of the song, I almost died on the spot. Sing…..live……on……the…..radio……..WTF!!!

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Dude…seriously, you want me to sing?

I was so dumbstruck at his request that I forgot the words. I could sing this song in my sleep yet here I was live on the radio with no memory of the tune, the words or even the time of fecking day. My face must have been a picture!

I think I mumbled that I couldn’t remember it,  despite the fact that  2 minutes before when he had asked me I’d told him I lovvvvvvvvved Extreme and knew the song off by heart. I think he helped me with the first couple of words and off I went, somehow managing to belt the rest out, albeit not with the same gusto that I would have in front of my bedroom mirror. I won the tickets, there was much elation, on my part anyway. Bart, well, when I finally managed to look over at him, all I saw was his two feet sticking up behind the desk, he had literally fallen off his chair laughing.

So ummmm yeah, that’s the first one that comes to my mind :)

 

Greetings Stranger…..

You’re sitting at a café when a stranger approaches you. This person asks what your name is, and, for some reason, you reply. The stranger nods, “I’ve been looking for you.” What happens next?

Well that’s a no brainer, I’d be up the street as fast as my fake Louis Buttons could carry me. In my experience a stranger, who knows you by name and who just happens to be in the same cafe, is not going to be after anything good.

Now don’t get me wrong I know he’s not Dr Death or anything, I mean come on, everyone knows that geezer wears a big black cape, but still, it’s not going to end well.

Stranger: Are you the Indecisive Eejit?

Me: No!

Stranger: You are her, you look just like her avatar thing.

Me: Look pal I have no idea who you are, but I am May Dupp.

Stranger: I know, made up by The Indecisive Eejit.

Me: I don’t know what you mean and besides, I look nothing like her avatar, according to that guy Rob she’s all oogly boogly and shit.

Stranger: So you do know her!

Me: Ye…nope!

Stranger: You sound a little unsure.

Me: Totally sure. As sure as a big sure thing schooled at the school of sureness.

Stranger: 50/50…phone a friend….

Me: Listen here sunshine is there some part of no you’re not understanding.

Stranger: I understand perfectly Miss Dupp. Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful eyes.

Me: It won’t work………

Stranger: and that long silky blond hair, it’s just beautiful.

Me: Really, you thi………..it won’t work. What do you want anyway?

Stranger: I was looking for your May Dupp.

Me: So why did you ask if I was the Indecisve Eejit?

Stranger: The girl at the counter said it would wind you up, she said you’re not good with your fate being in someone else’s hands.

Me: She’s right, so are you going to tell me who you are?

Stranger: I’m a tarot card reader.

Me: Ah feck aff, that’s 20 minutes of my life I’m never going to get back!

Inspired by todays Daily Prompt!

Showdown at Big Sky

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Taken from todays Daily Prompt:

Showdown at Big Sky

How do you handle conflict? Boldly or Directly? Or, do you prefer a more subtle approach.

I personally favour the running away approach. For this method to be successful there need not be screaming, crying or flailing of arms, they are entirely optional and a matter for personal choice.

There is also the ‘Ostrich’. I’m good at that one too, although instead of burying my head in sand it’s usually my pillow.

Unlike a kettle I tend to go off the boil rather quickly. I’ll get myself all worked up about something and start to put my point across, but if someone then counteracts me, while starting a gentle rolling boil themselves, I tend to back off, whether I am right or wrong.

It’s one of the many pet hates I have about myself and I am sure it most likely stems from a lack of confidence. I need to be able to learn to put my point across, without losing the plot and boiling over, something that thankfully I don’t do all that often.

If all else fails, go into a dark room and have a serious think about where your life is going until such times as the conflict situation has subsided.

I’ve been doing this for years and I still have no idea where I am headed, so best of luck!

Daily Prompt: Beyond the Pale!

Daily Prompt: Beyond the Pale

When was the last time you did something completely new and out of your element? How was it? Will you do it again?
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Image from sophisticatededge.com

Seriously folks, this is so randomly boring and banal that you’re going to think to yourselves, seriously, WTF!!, did she just post that!

On Wednesday the 1st January 2014 for New Year’s Day dinner I cooked a whole chicken! Now before you all start to panic, the chicken was not alive at the time, in fact it looked quite peaceful in it’s little roasting bag, lightly dusted with herbs and spices. I did however have a minutes silence, after I saw my neighbours brood lined up outside my kitchen window  giving me the evil eye. Now before you all start to panic again, it was NOT one of my neighbours in the bag.

I have to be honest and say that while I had respect for the bird before me, I had no remorse, because if truth be told chickens, the live ones that is, scare me just a little. They seem to lay in wait around the vicinity of the back door and when I step outside they are prone to chasing me and pecking at my feet. They always seem to pick the bad leg too, because they know I cannot kick them a boot up their feathered fandangos. In my head they are saying, “Here lads, look at the drumsticks on that, attttttaccccckkkk!!!” In reality there are probably saying, “fooood, this bitch is bound to have foooooood.”

Now I know for most of you cooking a whole chicken will be the easiest thing in the world, in fact most of you probably do it with your eyes closed. I know when I do the funky chicken, everyone else keeps their eyes closed. The thing is, my Mum was a fantastic cook and she would have been the one who did all those kind of things when we were younger. In later years I cooked for myself, but I preferred things like stir fries, korma, noodles etc. Don’t get me wrong I have a healthy appetite but not even I could eat a whole chicken on my own.

The saddest things about the way my Mum’s illness has progressed is that there never seemed to be a need to learn all the cooking secrets that she knew, and now I need to know them, she is not able to teach me. Thankfully for most things I knew the basics which I was able to expand on.

Now I cook for us all everyday and I’ve been trying to experiment and try new things in an attempt to vary our daily menu, which if truth be told is the bit I find the hardest in the whole caring process to date. So you see, to me cooking a whole chicken, which was not only edible but delicious  as well, and best of all didn’t kill anyone was actually a big deal. I served it up, and looked at the plates with a huge smile on my face and thought I did that, while mentally high fiving myself.

Next, which will be another first for me is Shepherd’s Pie….and no before you ask, no Shepherd’s will be harmed in the cooking process!

Simply Irresistible

Creme EggI want to go to bed. I’m so tired I’m in danger of waking up where I sit!

Well go to bed then I hear you cry! Well I was, and then I saw todays Daily Prompt.

Daily Prompt: Simply Irresistible

Tell us about the favorite dish or food that you simply cannot turn down.

My weakness is Creme Eggs, I absolutely love them, in fact their arrival is much more anticipated than that of Santa Claus!

Every year between the 1st of January and Easter day these little bundles of gooey goodness make an appearance and my life is complete. It’s a short lived love affair, as after the Easter Bunny has been and gone, the eggs depart and hibernate until the next new year!

I could never understand why more often that not my work colleagues would have a Creme Egg waiting for me at afternoon tea break. I just thought they were being exceptionally nice. Eventually I figured out it was because Creme Eggs gave me something akin to a legal high! Once the ‘E’  Numbers kicked in, I kicked off, a whirling dervish of one liners.

The cold turkey however was not so pleasant, so I had to be sensible and limit my intake, while pleading with my work colleagues to offer me no more temptations!

So now the question I know is on all of your lips! How do I eat mine. Well that’s simple, I’ve even included step by step instructions:

  1. Make sure you are in possession of a Creme Egg. If possible try to con someone else into buying it for you. These ones definitely taste better.
  2. Ensure before you begin the unwrapping ritual that your Creme Egg is at room temperature.
  3. Once said Creme Egg is in your hand stroke it lovingly, before gently starting to unwrap the colourful silver foil. Both you and the egg know that you are, at some point going to bite it’s head off (for once nothing to do with hormones), but you can at the same time show it some respect.
  4. When the silver foil is halfway down, wipe up any drool that seeing the egg in a semi naked state may have induced.
  5. Swiftly bite off the top of the egg, savouring the chocolate taste that has not assaulted your senses for the last 8 months. Prepare for phase 2.
  6. Dip your tongue into the gloopy gooey goodness that is at the heart of each and every Creme Egg. Slurping and dribbling is optional, each to his own.
  7. Devour the remaining egg in one swift snap of the jaws whilst trying to hide the embarrassment you feel that others have witnessed this rare moment of intimacy you just experienced.
  8. Get over the embarrassment and buy a second egg for later. Practice makes perfect :)

Please turn red!

Daily Prompt: Safety First

Share the story of a time you felt unsafe

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Image by James Bowe

There are many times I have felt unsafe, but the platform of a blog would not be a suitable place to air the details of them.

When I saw and read this prompt, one incident in particular came to mind, so I figured I’d share it.

Before my accident I used to work part time for a taxi company. I was a phone operator, or telephonist as I would prefer to be known! In the old days, this being about 10 or more years ago, I used to work all the weekend shifts. The Saturday one did not finish till 6am and in the wee small hours when all the drivers were out and about it could get really boring, especially if they were out of town.

This particular night in order to ease the boredom I decide to walk round to the 24 hours garage for a pint of milk and something to eat. It’s only a short distance, up a street and round a corner and in those days it was much safer to be out on the streets at night, much less traffic around and fewer people, excluding the drunks who had collapsed on the street and slept where they lay.

I dandered round and picked up all the things I needed, and stood chatting to the night clerk for a while, no doubt finding out all the gossip from the hours before.

Two guys, say around early twenties came into the shop, bought a few things, got back into their car, but didn’t leave the forecourt. I didn’t think much of it, but they kept looking into the garage and in the back of my mind I was wondering why they had not left.

I decided it was time to head back, so I said goodbye and headed out the door. As soon as I stepped foot onto the forecourt I heard the engine of the car start, which automatically put me on alert. I rounded the corner from the garage onto the street and instinctively knew the car was following albeit very slowly, so I bolted up to the traffic lights and on my way past, pushed the button for the pedestrian crossing.

The whole incident only took minutes but it felt like a lifetime, as I glanced behind me to see if the lights had turned red. Thankfully they had and I ran the rest of the way to the office, trying to open the door as quickly as I could before the car rounded the corner and saw where I was.

Our office was on the main street anyway, it had a big open window with a ledge, not unlike a seat I guess. I just got the door closed and locked when I heard the car coming, not hard to tell at about 4am when there is no other traffic on the road.

I left the lights off and knelt down behind the ledge and saw the car crawling up the street at what must have been about 10mph. They must have known I was spooked, given how fast I had walked to the lights and then how quickly I had disappeared around the corner. They were trying to find me.

I stayed rooted to the same spot, pretty much out of fear for about 30 minutes, and in that time saw the car cruise up and down past another 3 times.

I will be forever grateful that the traffic lights turned to red!

They prompt nothing but frustration!

I am in awe of the people who look at the daily prompts everyday and can manage to string together legible pieces of writing.

I swore a couple of months back that I was going to try and participate more often, I even took heed of the words on a strangers blog, when they said, look at the prompt and then just write about the first thing that comes to mind.

I look at the Daily Prompt every day and the first thing that comes to mind is “Ah for f*ck sake” as the subject matter goes whizzing high above my wonky top box.

I am not an unintelligent person, that said, I am not the brightest pixie in the forest either. Sure my grammar and punctuation need work and I’d be scuppered without spell check, but sometimes I can manage to string a sentence together and if I am really lucky, it’s relatively sensible.

So what is this strange aversion (disinclination) I seem to have for the prompts? I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, and I’ve discovered what the problem is. It’s me!

After 6 – 7 months of blogging, I still don’t trust myself to write the things I want to and I still find it hard to open up. With regards to the prompts, I am scared to write the first thing that comes into my head, because lets face it, what I am making for tomorrow nights tea is not going to be to everyones taste and is probably going to be unrelated to the chosen subject matter as well.

So what’s the solution. Well firstly I need to serve myself a huge slice of ‘Get the feck over yourself’ and conquer my fears with regards to commenting and subject matter. I need to spend less time worrying about what others will think and just write. I did consider deactivating my Facebook page, and that may yet happen, because it’s easier to write when you don’t think people who actually know you are reading. In fact I am going to stop telling people in my real life that I even write, because I think to be honest my friends just humour me.

Secondly I am going to serve myself an equally proportioned slice of ‘you have to at least try’. I mean what’s the worst that can happen, it’s not like I am going to be burnt at the stake for crimes against the blogging community if I write a post that reminds me of the Prompt subject, but means bugger all to anyone else. Chances are they will read it and say “Ooo that’s a strange one” and to be fair to them I resemble that remark so I can hardly grumble about it.

Most challenges run Monday – Friday or days in between and few run at the weekend when I have more time. I may have to ask Mr Okay, What If? for a sneak peek on a Friday, because I like his challenges.

Tomorrow I have Steve’s Monday Music Quiz to look forward to, it’s nice and simple for an eejit like me :)

So here is a disclaimer, if you read a post from me on a Daily Prompt and you think it’s in no way related to the question they asked, just keep it to yourself! I already know I’m an eejit and I am appreciative of the fact you read it at all! :)