Right insomnia you and i need to have words.
Is there any chance that tonight you will let me sleep in more than two hours bursts ?
I really don't want to be waking up on the hour every bloody single silent hour tonight.
I don't want my pj bottoms to be making their way up every crevice imaginable, slowly strangling my intestines. While the legs look like i belong to the masons. It's not a good look for anyone.
If i go with night wear option two and wear a night shirt i would like it to stay in one place, and for that place not to be permanently around my ears.
It would be nice if the cat would realize that if my legs do twitch at night, it's not because i want to wake up with her attached to my big toe. I would like to be able to stick one of both feet out of the end of the bed without fear of small furry attack .
I would also like you to see to it that i get my allotted side of the bed, all of it not the three millimeters i am usually given. It would also be nice if i didn't have so much cover. The hot flushes of middle age are rapidly gaining on me i don't need to be cocooned.
See i don't ask for much do i?
really on the grand scale of things i want very little.
Just sleep.
Sunday 15 April 2012
Monday 9 April 2012
Being Pants
I remember when i first joined twitter. It was two or so years ago now. I had drunk too much coffee and was awake at 4.30am, so i thought why not.I finally had internet access after years of fighting against it. I'm not one for change, but sometimes it's like trying to hold back a tidal wave. Whatever happens your bound to get wet so you may as well stand back and let the inevitable happen. Anyhow that was the idea, give twitter a chance, find a voice. After all i had things to say didn't i? So why not do it somewhere that no one knows you, you know no one and then you can say what ever you want to. Well that was the idea back then.
For a while that worked. I wasn't just someone who didn't see or hear from anyone for days on end. I had a window to the outside world. Suddenly with Twitter @Pantsbum was born. I was free to say what i wanted. I could swear and i did. i could have opinions people would normally suck their teeth at in real life, but here i didn't care. It was a case of look out world the pants have landed in all their couldn't give a shit glory.
So what happened?
Suddenly ( not in the overnight success sense ) I was popular. People found me amusing and not an embarrassment. After years, decades even of trying to conform i found i didn't have to. I was free. For a while i had a voice and i wasn't ashamed of using it.
But then the inevitable happens. People complain. I get phone calls from family members telling me that in no uncertain terms that my opinion isn't welcome. I shouldn't be writing the things that i do. Strangers sometimes take that line. I even had people that i didn't know telling me to go jump off a cliff no one wants to read my blog, my tweets. I'm a pathetic individual ect ect. why don't i just go and die?
So i get a little angry, but those storms are weathered. I don't write about my anger the way i used to. I go back to sucking it up and saying nothing, the way i always did. But i loose my touch, my ability to say what i feel. I can't do that anymore. I find myself over analyzing everything. Can i have this thought ? Would this thought be approved of or would it be deemed inappropriate for general release ?
thinking back the death knell came when someone whose opinion i valued, who had encouraged me to start my blog, and even found me someone who could help me set it up, told me he thought i had lost my touch. Thinking back he was right. We don't speak anymore, haven't for about a year now, because i threw my collective toys out of my pram and in a not very adult way blanked him after that. I was a fool and now he will probably never know how much i am grateful to him for the encouragement he gave all those years ago. It's good when people believe in you and those are the people that matter above all others.
So where am i now ?
After a year of very unfunny , not particularly ranty and completely uninspired tweetings and the odd blog, i have discovered some things about myself.
I need to stop trying and just start being.
I need to stop listening to the ones who say i can't and start believing in the ones who say i can.
I may not always be someone's cup of tea and that's fine.
I am an embarrassment and that's fine to.
I need to stop being ashamed of who i am.
So now is the time to stop hiding.
I'm not perfect. Perfection is overrated.
I'm a forty year old who wears hightops, likes jumpers with skulls on them and listens to anything from classical to drum and base and dubstep.
It's ok not to be popular and most importantly of all I'm fine with being me.
I will still be pants just pants reborn.
P- persistent
A- and
N- not
T- taking
S- shit
That's being Pants.
For a while that worked. I wasn't just someone who didn't see or hear from anyone for days on end. I had a window to the outside world. Suddenly with Twitter @Pantsbum was born. I was free to say what i wanted. I could swear and i did. i could have opinions people would normally suck their teeth at in real life, but here i didn't care. It was a case of look out world the pants have landed in all their couldn't give a shit glory.
So what happened?
Suddenly ( not in the overnight success sense ) I was popular. People found me amusing and not an embarrassment. After years, decades even of trying to conform i found i didn't have to. I was free. For a while i had a voice and i wasn't ashamed of using it.
But then the inevitable happens. People complain. I get phone calls from family members telling me that in no uncertain terms that my opinion isn't welcome. I shouldn't be writing the things that i do. Strangers sometimes take that line. I even had people that i didn't know telling me to go jump off a cliff no one wants to read my blog, my tweets. I'm a pathetic individual ect ect. why don't i just go and die?
So i get a little angry, but those storms are weathered. I don't write about my anger the way i used to. I go back to sucking it up and saying nothing, the way i always did. But i loose my touch, my ability to say what i feel. I can't do that anymore. I find myself over analyzing everything. Can i have this thought ? Would this thought be approved of or would it be deemed inappropriate for general release ?
thinking back the death knell came when someone whose opinion i valued, who had encouraged me to start my blog, and even found me someone who could help me set it up, told me he thought i had lost my touch. Thinking back he was right. We don't speak anymore, haven't for about a year now, because i threw my collective toys out of my pram and in a not very adult way blanked him after that. I was a fool and now he will probably never know how much i am grateful to him for the encouragement he gave all those years ago. It's good when people believe in you and those are the people that matter above all others.
So where am i now ?
After a year of very unfunny , not particularly ranty and completely uninspired tweetings and the odd blog, i have discovered some things about myself.
I need to stop trying and just start being.
I need to stop listening to the ones who say i can't and start believing in the ones who say i can.
I may not always be someone's cup of tea and that's fine.
I am an embarrassment and that's fine to.
I need to stop being ashamed of who i am.
So now is the time to stop hiding.
I'm not perfect. Perfection is overrated.
I'm a forty year old who wears hightops, likes jumpers with skulls on them and listens to anything from classical to drum and base and dubstep.
It's ok not to be popular and most importantly of all I'm fine with being me.
I will still be pants just pants reborn.
P- persistent
A- and
N- not
T- taking
S- shit
That's being Pants.
Sunday 1 April 2012
Don't put the fluffy one on a t-shirt Mrs worthington
So last week i finally got round to the fun part of easter shopping, no not the eggs they would have melted in the sun and thus i would have had to eat them as a quality control measure. I haven't got round to getting them yet, but better than chocolate eggs what says i love you more than ( drum roll please ) a t-shirt . Not any old t-shirt though but a personalized one. Yes i can hear a collective of palms hitting foreheads as i write this but i thought it was an excellent think outside the traditional box idea. So four of these said t-shirts were brought ordered and the writing instructed in font color ect. For one i even printed out a picture of what i exactly wanted on it. I pick them up tomorrow and can i say i am more than a little excited about this.
But i seem to have unleashed some kind of slogan monster. It's the fluffy ones fault. He wanted what he calls a * Twitter T-Shirt*. I have one with my name on it and writing on the back so he wanted one with fluffy written on it. Being the wonderful human being that i am he has his wish. His t-shirt will read @fluffy on the front and spreading the fluff since 2001 on the back.
The thing is now i have done one i can't stop thinking up others . I may be in danger of branding fluffy. Not literally with an iron but in t-shirt form just as he is blossoming into teenage hood growing hormones gaining street cred, mummy has put him on a t-shirt. Mummy plans to put him on many more t-shirts, mummy wants to draw an emblem to also put on said t shirts.
Maybe it's time fluffy takes up boxing just in case.
But i seem to have unleashed some kind of slogan monster. It's the fluffy ones fault. He wanted what he calls a * Twitter T-Shirt*. I have one with my name on it and writing on the back so he wanted one with fluffy written on it. Being the wonderful human being that i am he has his wish. His t-shirt will read @fluffy on the front and spreading the fluff since 2001 on the back.
The thing is now i have done one i can't stop thinking up others . I may be in danger of branding fluffy. Not literally with an iron but in t-shirt form just as he is blossoming into teenage hood growing hormones gaining street cred, mummy has put him on a t-shirt. Mummy plans to put him on many more t-shirts, mummy wants to draw an emblem to also put on said t shirts.
Maybe it's time fluffy takes up boxing just in case.
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