Lick

..er .. ish.

Houstonmacbro asked if I like it. Whilst it’s not an emotion or a feeling, he’s quite right when he says you either like it or hate it.

It makes me gag. It’s kind of sweet and perfumey but harsh and sour at the same time. I don’t like aniseed either. Pernod, Ouzo and associated flavours really do have my tongue hanging out and begging for mercy. Weirdly, I can remember giving liquorice to our dog. He nearly bit my hand off and loved me intensely for ages after, well, for as long as my sticky, 12 year-old fingers stilled smelled of the stuff. Even now, sitting here merely considering the taste of it has made my mouth water unpleasantly and given me shudders. My mum loves the stuff though.

Now, on to Monty’s suggestion… love.

Love is a cupboard full of cake and a boyfriend that rubs my back until I fall asleep.
That’s pretty much it on the love front.

Ok. That probably seems like selling out. I’ll furnish with a bit more detail. TOH and I had our first date nearly 11 years ago. We met at Browns in Covent Garden for a drink. After about 2 drinks I remember excusing myself and dashing off to the gents’. Once there I looked in the mirror and gave myself a mental slap and a good talking to. I wanted to make sure not to ruin it all by acting like a buffoon because “I really like this one!”
We went to Pizza Express for dinner and nibbled daintily on thin crusts, avoiding all areas of garlic in private anticipation of potential action later on. He told me he liked my aftershave so from then on I gave him ample opportunity to breath me in (I was wearing Issey Miyake – can’t bear it now as I got hammered one night whilst wearing it and the smell still reminds me of room spin). From that night on we’ve been pretty much constantly together. We were wise to have avoided the garlic…

Now then! Enough girly old tat. What next? I’m out of suggestions from everyone. I’ll have to start thinking of my own ideas again.

Note to self… think hard for next post.

Feeling Fridayish

OK. Here we go with some more suggestions from you, my dear, valued reader(s).

Matterdays threw into the hat the feeling of “inadequacy”. Hmmm. Cheers for that.
Hopefully, Matterdays won’t be feeling the same way any more and his recent days have been filled with stellar, unparalleled success.

Right then. Inadequacy. Er.

It’s always nice to start with a little definition, so from YourDictionary.com…

inadequacy Definition

in·ad·equa·cy

noun pl. -·cies
quality, state, or instance of being inadequate

inadequacy Synonyms

inadequacy
n.
1. Inferiority
ineptitude, incompetence, insufficiency; see inability, lack 1.
2. A defect
flaw, drawback, shortcoming, deficiency; see defect 2, lack 2.

Gosh. Not sure I could live up to a post that would explain all of that…

Personally, I don’t think I feel inadequate that often. I’m usually pretty confident about most stuff and if I’m not confident I’ll bluff it or fly by the seat of my pants – actually, I’ve flown by the seat of my pants so often that I should have frequent flier miles.

One thing that I do think I suffer from though, in a very low wattage sense, is Impostor Syndrome. All of the roles I’ve had in my working career have been unplanned and I’ve simply been in the right place at the right time, and I’ve just kind of… well, fallen into them, really. I reckon I’m probably fairly good at what I do but when I think of where to go from here, I feel a bit trapped. I didn’t plan any of this at all. If I’d have stuck to my plan 21 years ago I’d have gone to art college and would either be enjoying a glorious life of celebrity weirdness or eeking out a living of deprived poverty and starvation instead.

How did this all happen? Pfft! Haven't a clue. I put it all down to chance (and a bit of luck that I found something that I can kinda do - who knew!) However, I do feel like a bit of a phoney when people seek my advice. It also freaks me out when people actually take my advice and act upon it.

Despite 5 years at university and quite a few years of experience, I still don’t understand why anyone would listen to what I have to say at work, let alone believe me.

I think it’s holding me back. I need to recalibrate somehow. I also need to decide what I want and aim for it rather than sitting here in dazed confusion. Stupidly, my job is to recruit and help others decide what they want – yet I can’t seem to apply my own know-how to myself.

Apparently, Impostor Syndrome is more common in successful women. Heck! Does this mean that I’m a bit of a girl? Don’t answer that.

But then... even if I were a bit of a girl, I wouldn't think of myself as successful anyway...

Waaah! Headache!

Feeling Emotional..? #2

Being the cheeky imp that he is, Muzbot suggested that I write about ‘lust’ when I requested ideas for posts.

The tricky thing about lust, is that it’s hard to twist the definition to avoid any discussion about sex.

Here are the definitions…

1. Pleasure.
2. Inclination; desire.
3. Licentious craving; sexual appetite.
4. To have an eager, passionate, and especially an inordinate or sinful desire, as for the gratification of the sexual appetite.

Er… My blog has never been about sex. I’ve never discussed it (apart from the odd thought about attractive gentlemen).
Clever you, Muzbot!

One thing that has always occurred to me about lust, is that when you’re feeling full to the brim with lust, it’s like being drunk. It seems to cloud your judgement and makes it nigh on impossible to stay rational and use any common sense.

I suppose that could be the reason that many people wake up the next morning next to someone who looks like they have been hastily sewn together, but don’t understand how it could have happened as they “only had one beer!”. Excess lust! That’s how!

It’s been a while since I’ve let my lust loose on the open market, but has anyone noticed that as an evening dwindles on, and the more time you take to find an object upon which to bestow your lust, the less choosy you get? For me, I think it was that all of the lookers snapped each other up early on, leaving the less desirables scratching around for left-overs. When there’s a very shallow pool of potential, you don’t need to put your snorkel on to see what’s left, but sometimes you just don’t want to go home with an empty net…

I’m enjoying the “sinful desire” part of the above definition. I have lots of those. I’m not discussing them here :¬)

I do have a lust for life. I have a lust for food. I also have a lust for booze – personal lustworthy favourites are vodka (with tonic), beer (cold) and wine (white, dry - but nothing that will make my gums curl up. Know what I mean?)

As most people who read my blog read Muzbot’s, I think we can also pretty much agree that he is an 'objet de luste' for us all too.

Another big lust for me is travel – I simply can’t get enough.
And finally, of course… TOH.

Food for Thought

OK. A couple of posts back, I asked for suggestions. I asked for an emotion or a feeling. I received a few responses. I'll tackle the first one today.

Here we go.

Mike had never left a comment on my blog before so it was a cheeky surprise. He naughtily suggested ‘schadenfreude’ and then more kindly changed to ‘eagerness’.
In a weird twist, Mike’s suggestion highlights an unsuggested emotion that I’m often tussling with. I’m competitive and hate being outdone. If anyone throws down a gauntlet, I’m usually tempted to pick it up (and then secretly try it on – a boy can’t have too many gloves…!)

My first instinct… No. Scratch that. My first actions upon reading ‘schadenfreude’, even though said in jest, were to seek a decent enough definition so that I could begin to write a response.

Here’s a definition “the enjoyment obtained from the troubles of others”. I don’t actually enjoy others’ troubles but I admit that I’ve often found it difficult to suppress a loud hoot of laughter when I’ve seen someone take a tumble on slippery ground after windmilling their arms about for a few seconds in helpless freefall. Yesterday I also realised that I experienced a small, very secret and cruel moment of glee whilst the bus I was on whizzed past a bus stop, leaving grumpy commuters huffing and gesturing as we sped on.

Another definition is “shameful pleasure”. Oh Lord! I’ve got billions of those…

Anyway. On to Mike’s other suggestion. “Eagerness”.

Hmmmm. I had to give this a bit of thought as I wasn’t sure if I’m an eager person or not. I’m always eager to go on holiday and each day, at work, I spend most of the minutes between 11.30am and 12.15pm eagerly looking forward to lunch. I usually have lunch at around about the same time each day, so my whole being is quivering in anticipation to scamper off to the staff restaurant once the morning draws to a close.

I guess I am an eager person. If it’s something I want or like then I look forward to it, I reckon that’s only natural. I am easily excited by stuff, though and if it seems like a fun idea, I’m very easily distracted. I think it’s because I get joy from small things, I often find little inconsequential moments highly entertaining or fascinating. My mind is full of lots of little details and memories of things I’ve seen and done – all tiny and unimportant to all but me. I remember about 3 years ago being so thrilled that I’d skimmed a stone across the shallow water on a beach in Cape Cod and it bounced about 6 or 7 times – it was like being 5 years old again. I was amazed and I can clearly remember so much of the detail, the light of the sun, the colour of the sand, the sound and smell of the sea. There was no-one nearby to tell, I kept it to myself, until now.

Actually, none of that is anything to do with eagerness. Er… it was all a bit of a ramble. Sorry. Anyway, thanks for throwing me into random pandemonium Mike. It’s a shame I didn’t know when you were in the UK on your travels, as I would have tried to steal your dog - I want him.