Your Ten Year Old Self

I'm not actually going to do the whole writing a letter to my ten year old self, but a flick through some old photos did get me thinking what ten year old Amy would think of how things have turned out. Sure, there's a lot I'd go back and change; like looking after myself and my money more, not taking school or 90% of the people there too seriously, not taking that sick day that lost me a good job and making sure I told my loved ones, especially ones who aren't here any more how much I adore them.

It's a matter of one question really, "would your ten year old self be proud of how things turned out?"

Just food for thought, I guess.

Baby Girl, I Said Tonight Is Your Lucky Night.

This book is a little bit good. With all the recent melodramas and misdemeanours I feel I need some guidance and inspiration from some pretty dangerously insightful women. I purchased - and read - this book last year. Of course at that time I had a steady job that I kind of somewhat tragically enjoyed, a lovely man-friend to keep me warm at night and with it a pretty good social life. This isn't a "woe is me" post, however on reading the book for a second time ie. over the last couple of days, there are some pretty good advice nuggets.

One 'nugget' that I am going to focus on is their advice on being an 'enigma'; a mysterious girl. My tongue has landed me in trouble more than once over these two past life-changing months and it's time it stopped. So no more spilling my guts to anyone who will listen, or gossiping over what either myself or anyone else is or isn't getting up to. Keeping my mouth schtum. And instead concentrating on being charming, building relationships with people and perhaps letting a little gossip out over a bottle of wine.

Their advice is "It's hard to remain an enigma when we live in a world where everybody is intent on revealing every little thing about themselves at parties and then revealing it again on the interweb. But do try it. If in doubt, cast your mind back to Brief Encounter and imagine how the whole caboodle would have been blown out of the water if Celia Johnson had received a text at the wrong minute. Being enigmatic is a very sexy quality indeed."

Parisian Swanners.

Stupidly early Saturday night has inevitably lead to a stupidly early Sunday morning filled with sausage butties and on demand cooking programs; whatever else? Two realisations; I still have a girl-crush on Rachel Khoo/long to be her waltzing around food markets in Paris, and James Martin doesn't have enough chest hair. It is rather disappointing. 

A trawl into town to get my father's birthday present even though his birthday is today. I am a very bad daughter. Unusually unorganised for me. I'm usually very anal about these things. My recent life-changing decisions have clearly made me tardy. There's only one solution; the filofax. The filofax will help (a) find me a new job, (b) plan my gym trips, and (c) remember birthdays. Also, an attempt to get all 'Zen' (I've decided to become a lazy Buddhist) on my arse by giving anything I don't remotely want or particularly need to charity. 

Good plan.

NB: There are lots of other things involved in being a lazy Buddhist but the possessions thing is the place to start.  

Image is the previously mentioned Rachel Khoo swanning around Paris in polkadots and cat-eye sunglasses. I rest my case. I have no idea of the source, probably some Parisian Swanners VIP Club website. 

Introductions.

A quest to collate my thoughts, figure out my ideas and share all of the beautiful things out there. Pretty simple really. I believe this is blog attempt #5 and oh boy! is it going to be the best. My reasoning is that I'm sure Chanel must have had Chanel No 1, No2, No3, No4 and landed rather spectacularly on No5. I've actually just researched it (#googlegeek) and found this article on the perfume. So yes. I digress.

Today has entailed new blisters from my new vans (#fail), food shopping with the father and consequently eating my own bodyweight in mozzarella baby. I fear tonight may be another night in alone watching Harry Potter fuelling my existential crisis. Just trying to think positive at the minute, it's always worked before.

Image is from http://lisacongdon.com's blog because (a) I love nothing more than getting lost in that blog, it's just so darn inspiring and (b) I  adore Roald Dahl. Boom.