But nothing compares

     For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. See, I did pay attention in a science class along the way somewhere. Or else I heard it on TV. Either way, tis true! And unfortunately, while this may seem like an admission of failure, I'm going to go for it anyway. However amazing it is on your own, sometimes there's nothing nicer than having a partner.
     I'm not saying I want one...yet. But I have to say, there are times when I do miss having someone around. No matter how fabulous my own company is, it's always nice to have someone else to bounce off. My previous statements were all true, but as I am writing this, I am lying in bed (over on my own side, still haven't quite graduated to taking over the whole bed) and am fantasising about a hug. And I feel quite pathetic for stating that. But it's true. The downside of being single, and there are just as many negatives as there are positives, are things like having no one to make me tea and toast on a weekend morning (or afternoon in my case) no one to help me find my glasses when they go missing for the seventeenth time that day, no one to help me figure out what lightbulb I need when the one in the kitchen goes. No one calling me on their way home to see if I need anything. No one randomly picking me up flowers just because (actually, nobody did that anyway, I have gotten used to buying my own flowers for myself every few weeks) no one to surprise me for with having dinner being.
     And while it is all well and good to be able to stand in front of your mirror on any given day and moan and bitch about the fact that you hate your body and not have anyone stare at you like you have actually lost the plot, it can be lovely to have someone tell you to stop being silly, and that you are gorgeous just how you are. Is it sad that people need validation like that? I'm generally a happy person, but prone as everyone is to dark days about themselves, I am no different and in general I do have a low opinion of what I look like. I don't think too much about it, but every so often it does come up. And on the days that that happens and I am drowning in a sea of self-loathing and hateful body imagery, it can be such a comfort to have someone you really love, someone you really fancy and want, to put their arms around you (dark haired toned armed boys for me if possible, if you see any of them lying around in a haphazard manner, send them on!) and tell you that you are beautiful and gorgeous and that they're happy to be with you.You may not believe a word that comes out of their lying mouths when they say these things, but it's always, always wonderful to hear.
     For all my wanting to be left alone and to take care of only myself, that's another thing that is lovely about being in a happy relationship, looking after your other half. I miss having someone to fuss over and look after. I miss buying them things that they like, I miss seeing their face when I have got them some wee surprise from the shop, or have in my house a certain food that they like, or buying the Sunday papers without being asked to. I miss being appreciated. Not that I know for a fact any previous boyfriends actually appreciated me, no one really knows for sure, but I like to think I have been. I miss having a guinea pig for my dinner recipes that I have cut out of the paper, having someone offer to do the dishes, curl up on beside them on my ridiculously small couch and watch a terrible film, and inevitably falling asleep on when the tedious film becomes too much for me.
     I miss kissing. Maybe it's me, but I absolutely adore kissing. It's better, personally, than anything in the world: tea, dogs, family, crisps, ciggies, vodka, Home and Away, reading, eating, sex, sunshine, it trumps everything! OK well maybe not family. Or tea. Or dogs and Alf Stewart or reading for that matter, but it's bloody important right? I love how a great kiss with someone you are really into can lead anywhere, it can lead to a night of debauchery, solo lovin' or even just leave you on cloud nine for a few days. It can feel like you're on a rollercoaster, trapped inside a stunt plane, and then placed on top of a topsy turvy ferry with your stomach doing flips! As we speak I an drifting off into a reverie of kissing someone I really have the hots for...
     So as I lie here on my own, count yourself lucky if you have someone to do all of the above with. I know, I honestly do know that relationships are never perfect, and that it might seem like I am looking at them through rose tinted glasses, but I'm really not. A lot more goes into them that what I have mentioned, sometimes they are hard work, other times they are sad and unfulfiling, I know that when they're wrong, they can be miserable, but when they're right, they're great! I just wish that I had someone to kiss me, and to cuddle into and go to sleep. Just for tonight...
     

I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant

     Since breaking up in some extremely horrible circumstances a few weeks ago, I'm throwing myself head first into the singleton lifestyle. Not the dating lifestyle, the Being Alone Lifestyle. It involves a lot of pottering about on my own, a lot of talking to myself, devouring books again, watching exactly what I want on TV when I want, not talking when I don't want to, cooking for me and only me, no one pestering me to make them tea etc. There is a list longer than my elbow of all the things that are great about being on my own.
     I don't have to consider anyone else's feelings all the time, I don't have to factor in consideration for my other half when I feel the whim to do something. I can act on said whim without (nearly) any recriminations. I can sleep spread eagled on my bed rather than hunched over my own side with my feet poking out from under the duvet. I still sleep relatively close to my preferred side of the bed with my feet poking out from under the duvet, but at least the option is there.  I can snore and not disturb anyone bar possibly my next door neighbour. I can talk away in my sleep without anyone thinking I am mental. I can do some leering and perving on men without feeling guilty. Unless I am meeting someone or have plans, I am not held to someone's timetable. There is no one delaying me when I am getting ready for work in the morning. I can stand in my living room beside the heater and do a full body moisturise without someone looking at me. I can run around the room with my hair wrapped up in a towel and try on 50 different clothes and scrutinise my appearance until I am happy without someone sighing about how they want to leave. If I am not happy with my lumpy bits, it doesn't matter, I can get to them in my own time as there is no one to see them and I can stand there looking in the mirror and poke at the parts I don't like without feeling self conscious. I can floss my teeth on the couch. I can shower with the bathroom door open so the room will be toasty when I step out from under the water. (I do draw the line at peeing with the door open, even on my own in the house, the door is firmly locked)  I can descale my feet and make them look almost like they belong to a human. I can write peacefully without someone wanting to see what I am doing or what I have scribbled down. I can listen to my headphones while chopping peppers. In a statement, I can devote my attention to mé féin.
     And these are just things I can do in the Fairy Bubble. I have yet to really unleash myself into the outside world with this attitude. Imagine the possibilities!! I can flirt outrageously with people, even more so than I already do. I can meet a strangers eye when I am walking down the street and perhaps flash a smile at them. Maybe, just maybe even talk to them if they stop me. I can go out and kiss people. I can bring someone back if I want to, and it doesn't matter what time I come home at, there is no one there waiting for me or letting me feel guilty for being back so late. Hell, I don't even have to come home (although I still generally do, I like waking up in my own bed) I can hold fire until someone I really am into sweeps me off my feet, a dark haired, toned armed god if possible. I can hold out for someone amazing. I can do my Spanish lessons next year, without feeling I am neglecting a relationship. I can go to the gym every evening without feeling the same. I can head off travelling whenever I want to (funds and holiday allowance pending of course) I can sleep in. Oh the Gods of Sleeping in are smiling on me! I can do, really and truly anything I want.
     The last few years have seen me morph from someone who was painfully shy, and who you really had to give her time for her to reveal her true self, into someone who no longer cares if strangers find her a bit weird or hideously boring, or if no one cares what I have to say, or if no one likes me. This is why I know I will be (and already are) happy on my own and making my own fun and my own fulfilment. Of course there are people that I really fancy, and I really like, but I won't be acting on it for a while, if ever (still a wee bit chicken for all my bravado) but that is the one aspect of my life that I won't be taking control of for a sometime. Everything else is up for grabs.
     I am totally free to grab life by its giant, twisting horns and go for it and seek adventure in the world. On the other hand, I don't have to, I can just ask it to sit down on the couch while I'm drinking tea and watching the TV whilst listening to the radio and reading the paper all at the same time. How fabulous!

A quick introduction would be nice

This is kind of a shout out to anyone who is bothered enough to read my scribbles (or my Typles if you will)

Just so I know who I am really reaching, if you are reading this, would you mind leaving a comment with some info as to where you are based, who you are, age group etc, I would be really interested to know. Its for the voyeur in me and it would be cool to meet/email/etc whoever you may be!

And if you don't want to leave that kind of information on this public page, you can email me on laurabubbles2@gmail.com

Donkey shins x

It's beginning to look a lot like Winter...

     Everywhere you go. And I for one am delighted! Even though Summer is a big event in my calendar, there is no season I love more than Winter. Nature slows down for a few months. The sun goes on a well deserved holiday to the other side of the world, the animals go into hibernation, the flora takes a breather before the regeneration of Spring comes to get them, everything just takes a step back and slows down. I think its the Earth's way of saying 'Slow down, rest a while, you've had a tough year', the natural way of saying, have a break, have a Kit Kat. The dark evenings make it perfectly acceptable to go home from work and not leave again until the following morning, as if its OK to embrace your inner mammal and do some hibernating of your own.
     You get some amazing weather at this time of the year too. The air is completely crisp and frosty, clear skies in the evening are displaying some beautiful moon shots, and through the light pollution in the city, you can see some of the gorgeous stars that the Milky Way has to offer. Yes its cold, but at least it's not raining (just yet) You can wear your hats again! Mine have been angry with me for not being taken out much during the last year, and have been languishing on the back of the door for some time now. So I am picking a hat a day to come on a trip from my house to the office and back again. You can wear massive woolly scarves! They too are clamouring for attention on the door, fighting off the flimsy cravats and neck ties I donned during the Summer months. It's time to bring out the big winter coats, your good coat to keep you warm. I think it makes me feel like a child again, being all wrapped up and feeling secure in big winter boots, hats, scarves and gloves, with twenty-seven different layers underneath to keep me extra cosy.
     But the best thing about Winter, is that it goes hand in hand with my favourite holiday: Christmas. I. Love. Christmas. I am a total Noelphile! You can say what you want about it being over commercialised, I don't care. You can keep your issues about the decorations going up in shops too early, or the true meaning of Christmas being lost, I just don't want to know anymore. I want to stand on the hill and roar to everyone that I am at my happiest over Christmas. Yes, it is a religious festival, and working for the Catholic church as I do (don't ask, its a long story!) I am constantly reminded of where this holiday came from and the true meaning of it. But that will never stop me from being excited as a kiddy about the upcoming event.
     The lights, the baubles, the tinsel, the cards, the presents, the weather, the mulled wine, the turkey dinner, the stuffing your face with Quality Streets, the terrible Christmas films, the entire Christmas buzz sends me into a tailspin of happiness. Its not just about all of the above, for me its so much more. I get to go home to my friends who I have had for years and see them and go out in my home town and get lairy drunk and do it all again the next day. I get to go back to my old room in my home house and spend the week with my family, annoying parents, talking the dog up the mountain, eating my brothers crisps by mistake, making turkey sandwiches for breakfast, have my mother call me to get up at 3pm in the day. Its a time where is perfectly acceptable to have a drink before lunch time. A time to get crap presents and give crap presents, but also to receive some excellent stashes of things you really wanted. Its a time, without going too cheesey, for being together with people that you don't get to see all the time. Its a time for acting the eejit, and a time for fun.
     I throw myself wholeheartedly into Christmas celebrations. I have my Santa hat complete with pigtails that I like to wear around the house. I like singing Feed the World in late November. I love to do an air guitar solo to Wish it could be Christmas Everyday. It's never too early to roll out mulled wine, mince pies (even though I don't actually like them) and Bailey's Coffees, nor is it ever too early to hear Christmas pop tunes in the supermarket.
     I know it can be a stressful time for all involved, but when the arguments with your sister have ceased, and you are all concentrating on how to moisten your turkey around the dinner table, and your mum has just quaffed her fourth Pinot Grigio, and you are surreptitiously moving the bottle of Jameson away from your dad and pushing a G n' T into his hand as whiskey doesn't really agree with him and in turn he doesn't agree with you when you mention it, and your uncle that no one invited shows up unannounced, and your brother is no longer talking to anyone as all he wants to do is watch The Wire on the box set that you bought him, take stock of what you have and let the lovely gooey Christmassy warmth spread over you. Enjoy it! And if you cannot stomach it all, then here's a tip not just for Christmas, but for life.: keep your "pint of water" discreetly topped up with Russian Standard and some white lemonade.
     Here;s to Jingle Bells and two day old Turkey Sandwiches. 

Happy....makes you happy baby

     The definition of happiness is... who the Hell knows. Can anyone really define happiness? It means different things to different people, from the extremes of winning lots of money to perhaps finding a pound on the ground. Happiness in yourself, can be a different matter. Maybe just appreciating what you have or where you are in life can be enough to make you contented. And looking around you, not relishing in the misery or others but just seeing how fortunate you are can work wonders for your mentality. Every day can be a happy time, I think you just need to look for it.

     When you are content, the whole world can see it, it radiates from you in such a way that it's almost tangible. It gives you energy, makes you feel bouncy, gives you a glow so powerful that you can infect others around you with it. You can actually pass on the love by smiling at someone that you meet along your path, ever thought of that? A genuine smile from someone can make light of your day. Having a perfect stranger smile at me when I am bumbling down the street can transport me to cloud nine for hours. Maybe it's just me, but when I am somewhere and I see someone on their own being happy or with a smile on their face, it makes inner Laura grin from inner ear to inner ear. Real mirth and joie de vie gets people going, and can be more pandemic than a winter flu. 

     I like to make people happy too, it satisfy's my need to make sure that the world is OK, and makes me literally light up inside when I can see I have helped someone out, made them comfortable, listened to them when they needed an ear to bend or cheered them up in someone. I think my lack of maternalness when it comes to children and not really wanting them, has come out in another way, that of wanting to help and mother the world. Maybe that is a tad excessive wanting to help the entire planet, but one person each day has a remarkable effect on my well being.

     Another great thing about happiness, is that you can literally find it anywhere. And I mean everywhere. You don't have to search hard for it. It can be in your favourite song coming on the radio, hanging with your family, spending time with your friends, being around animals, a sunset, the stars at night, being on the beach, reading, creating, and most importantly, finding it when you are on your own. The last one rings true for me in particular. Much and all as I adore reading and the stars etc, being on my own can make me immensely happy. Don't get me wrong, I am a sociable person (my mother actually thinks I am always out, ahem, "partying") and do really enjoy being around people, but there is nothing nicer than coming back into my own space and my own cocoon. I like putting my favourite song of that day on repeat a good six or seven times, flinging my shoes into the wardrobe, interviewing myself for a magazine for when my Stephen Christ novel (coming sometime soon to an imaginary bookshop near you) becomes a world wide hit while waiting for my kettle to boil, going to back to repeat the song again, and then lounging around for the evening. It might seem sad, but its a key factor in the Fairy Bubble.

     No one can give you advice on really how to unleash your inner happiness, only you can truly make yourself happy, and when you do, you can do the same for everyone around you. The only advice I can give you for happiness is to not look for it at the bottom of a bottle or in a powdery plastic bag, because while they all might have their time and place, you won't find long term happiness there. And when you do find something that makes you happy...hold onto it.

It's a magnet Jim, but not as we know it

     Magnets: aren't they just great? They're in everything, from toys, to medical equipment, to batteries, and even in your headphones. Personally, I like to put the two earpieces of my headphones together and let them repel one another, like two worms fighting. But seriously, they are amazing. So amazing, that our world is pretty much held together by them, the North Magnetic Pole and the South Magnetic Pole. There is however another type of magnet, something that is embedded apparently within us all, but the force is only strong in some cases. I am talking about The Weirdo Magnet.
     Never heard of it? Think it doesn't exist? Well as someone who apparently the force is very strong with, take it from me, it exists. I like to think that everyone has an internal weirdo magnet buried somewhere deep within. Some people are open with theirs and thereby attract the mentallers. Others keep theirs well hidden behind newspapers and angry looks and headphones. Mine, is apparently open to the public all day and all night, leading me to wonder if there is some Weirdo Magnet Monthly publication listing my details without me knowing. I have many, many tales of weirdo's being attracted to me, through no fault of my own, all of my friends can attest to that.
     Really, location doesn't matter. They will find me: on river cruises, outside pubs, on the street, shopping centres, other people's parties, friends of friends, you name it, they'll find me.
     It seems to happen particularly often on buses. To me, buses are the true Mecca for weirdo's, they seem to be drawn to public transport, buses in particular, like wasps to....well anything really. It's why I tend to avoid buses wherever possible. At least on the Tube, people don't really talk to each other, even when you are in a group with your friends. Being a Tube passenger, you can be totally undisturbed for the entire journey. Bus passengers however, are fair game, and some seem to be more enticing than others. Maybe it's because I am actually an OK kind of person. Unless I really have to be, I cannot be a total bitch to people, even to strangers who I don't know and will probably never meet again, it's just not in me to do. I think that because of this lack of bitch gene, I have developed a pheromone that sends out signals only picked up on by other unbalanced people. They see me they way the leopard sees a new baby caribou, the litter of the runt, easy pickings, a kindred weirdo spirit.
     It doesn't matter whether or not I put on my headphones, a stranger has actually taken them out of my ears so he could talk to me about texting his mother on his new phone that was over a month old but still had the protective plastic covering over it. It doesn't matter whether or not I pretend to read the giant newspaper that I have put in front of my face to stop people from annoying me, the weirdo will still get through to me. It even doesn't matter when I do both, and when I am sitting quite a distance away from someone, case in point being the odd man on the bus from Galway one day who was sitting across the aisle and two seats up from where I was cocooned with a broadsheet and my music. He decided to lock in on me, and I made the fatal mistake of making eye contact with him. Though I was only on the bus with him for fifteen minutes, it was long enough for him to tell me his ancestry (Cork born, Galway parents) why he was in Galway (Cork vs Galway hurling match) why he was wearing two jerseys (you guessed it, a Cork and a Galway one as his loyalty was divided) where he was staying (Claregalway) why he was staying there (cheaper than the city, even when you factor in the bus and taxi fares) Now, somewhere in between this and him getting off the bus, I must have zoned out, because when I came too, he was waffling on about the party he had been at where he was dressed as a Nazi SS Officer and how much he admired that Hitler fella.
     Much of my life is in fact taken over with the odd people, and meeting them randomly, it's an almost daily occurrence  and while I sometimes complain about it, I do in fact enjoy it mostly. Yes, it would be nice if I could get through at least one public transport journey or one day without being harassed by mentallers. It would be lovely to be just left alone every now and then. But I do quite enjoy the fact the people seem to make a bee-line for me (I'm talking about the mentallers here, no one normal really approaches me off the bat) and feel that I am someone who they can talk to, share the issues (be it personal or psychological) with me, and that they see me as someone who can empathise with them. And to be honest, it's pretty much the lunatics that make the world go round, how very boring life would be without them.

Hi diddly dee, a spinster's life for me

So I've only gone and ruddy done it. After what has felt like years of interminable waiting and mooching off others, I am now shacked up in a great little apartment in London, with only myself for company. Yes, I have reached the stage of personal maturity where I am now living on my own. Do I love it? Hell yes! Have I been lonely? Hell no! Do I think that living on my own and effectively cutting myself off from society will have an adverse effect on me and turn me into an even bigger lunatic? Resounding Hell no! I've always wanted to live on my own. For me, it has been a very personal goal, not really an ambition per se, but more of a want, like when I wanted to move to London. Granted, it took me nearly four years to do that, but I did it! The same with this, ever since I discovered what it was like to live on my own, all those years ago in Galway. And what a place to make that particular discovery.
     But in getting to this quite grown-uppy place, I had somehow managed to regress through the years and found myself almost re-living my pre-adult life to actual adult life. (Yes, I said pre-adult. I am no longer using the word teenager to describe myself or my friends around the ages of thirteen to eighteen. Teenager for me, evokes the goth-haired, be-hoodied, gangly, spotty, acned, hipster, mobile phone, dip-dyed hair we see today. And yes, while we were just exactly like them but without all the money and annoyingness that we see in most of them, I like to think we were slightly more mature and grown up than they are. But I guess that's what all pre-adults feel like...) Anyway!
     The first stage in my never ending story of how I got to live on my own, began when I managed to secure a job here in London. As I was fortunate enough to have my sister living here along with friends I had collected along the way, I had a solid base upon which to build my new life. While waiting for my then boyfriend to move over, my aforementioned sister graciously invited me to come live with her and her boyfriend until I got myself set up and settled in. Instantly, this felt like moving back in with my family, a place where even though I did feel like I belonged, I also felt that my freedom was somewhat limited. Now, don't get me wrong, I will be eternally grateful for my sister taking me in like this, but I did feel somewhat restricted. A bit like a pre-adult who has been given a week to have their home house to themselves while the family goes on holidays somewhere (why the pre-adult didn't go with them is anyone's guess, maybe they weren't going to a cool enough place, who knows, you pick the reason) only to be brought back down to earth and being reminded that they are in fact under the thumb the minute the family comes back to the house. They had a taste of freedom, and then it was pulled from under them. I had moved out of home when I was eighteen, lived with friends, lived with a bunch of Aussies in a tiny two-bedroomed attic apartment, lived with another friend, then strangers, then my boyfriends room, then my own place, then my new boyfriends place, and so on. Having gotten used to pottering about my own space and living by basically my own rules for quite some time, it was hard to re-adjust to living with, essentially, a family unit again. It did my sisters head in, it did her boyfriends head in, it did my head in, however I like to think it gave them basic training as to how it would be if they had a child, or a bold puppy that broke things. It was hard on everyone. 
     Pre-adult stage over and done with, after wrecking my London Family's head for nearly two years, I decided to branch out and move into a house where friends where currently living. This, would be my London Student years. It was almost exactly like when I first moved to Galway, I was living with two of my best friends and two guys that we had already known for years. Not exactly pushing the social experiment boundaries, but come on, we were only eighteen, and we did our best. My cousin already lived in the house, I had bonded with and become good friends with one of the other house-mates over an afternoon of frozen margaritas in Covent Garden, and had known the other house-mate through various visits. The room was a bit grotty. The house itself, not through fault of my house-mates, but through the obviousl maltreatment by previous tenants and neglect from the landlord, was a bit of a kip. But I still loved it. I felt like I had just made my first real foray into the adult world. Bit deja-vu-y but at the time, it was just what I needed. I needed to re-establish myself as Laura, not someone's girlfriend or sister or buddy, but as me, and finally find my feet again. And I did that, with roaring success! Old friends introduced me to new friends, as I did to them. People I had known for years were living at the top of my road so I had friends to drop into! I was responsible for paying proper rent and bills and buying food! I had a nectar card! I had re-useable shopping bags! Je suis arrivé!!  
     However, I feel, in retrospect, that the house was a stepping stone. It cemented the now amazing relationship I have with my sister, which has gone back to being more than just a family tie. We both now know we shouldn't live with each other, but love and adore and enjoy each other when we meet up, yet go our separate ways home. It was also a stepping stone on the way to me finding my literal Happy Place. I have my internal Happy Place, it's my Fairy Bubble (one which my sister told me to "eff off back into" one Christmas. See, told you, we shouldn't live together) but I needed to have my own place. My Happy Place with a postcode if you will. Due to unforeseen circumstances, I moved out of my Stepping Stone quick smart, and through a series of marvellous misadventures spanning a spell living with Jesuit priests, going to France and living like a refugee with a Kiwi, French and Spanish person all in the same room), I managed to wind up in a lovely house. One with a lovely bed, a lovely fat ass TV, lovely bathroom, lovely garden, lovely super secret side entrance, lovely kitchen, lovely couch, lovely storage space. But the most lovely thing of all, is when I come home, I am greeted by no-one except myself, by the smell of last nights dinner that I cooked and is now packed away to eat later, by the clean smell from the bathroom from my cleaning products, by the non-mess that I have made, and get to spend time with myself, reading in silence, watching whatever rubbish I want on TV, or simply lounging in my own house listening to music. I'm happier than I have been for a long time, and seem to have finally reached a place I never thought I would get, London Contentment, Tooting. I intend on enjoying my career as a Liver-Alone for a good long while, its been years in the offing, and now that I am here, there's no getting rid of me. I want to depend on myself. I want to enjoy my own company. I want to learn a little bit more about myself. I want to enjoy my own space. But most of all, I want to clean up nobody's mess but mine!