50 Things part 9

30 Cheerful chilli 30 CheerfulChilli_Logo

Walk on Otley Chevin then eat delicious veggie food is my kind of day. Though the servings were so big I should’ve saved the walk till after. The ‘experimental’ gig in a Bradford cellar was not the best followup to a vaguely romantic meal. I had to leave C there after 10 minutes of earsplitting noise, er, music. I destroy my hearing for no man, even if it was our first gig together.

31. Fewston Reservoir

Sunny walk around Fewston reminded me of my free festival days. I used to come wild camping here with a bottle of whisky, a manboy and a sleeping bag. What else would we need? We also came to a tiny festival here once, where I was nearly driven off the side of the road by an irate local, who objected to lots of dirty crusties having fun. 3 bolts of lightning hit each other a few feet away from my tent. Exciting times.31 fewston

32. Castlerigg

My favourite stone circle by far, just outside Keswick. The views all around are so amazing I don’t attempt to capture them on film. 360 degrees of mountains and sky, usually with all weathers featuring somewhere. The Bald Hiker has some beautiful pics, including this one.

Castlerigg by The Bald Hiker

Castlerigg by The Bald Hiker

I was a bit surprised to see an ice cream van up here. I’ve come for several solstices over the years and more recently the rangers have been very keen to get rid of us as soon as the sun’s up. Maybe paying customers are different.

33. Solfest glamping

Solfest is a nice little festival in the NW which has a great healing area I sometimes work in with the Travelling Homeopaths Collective. THC logoI decided to treat myself to a squrt (tiny yurt) with bed and bedding supplied. It saved a lot of faffing, but cost a LOT and sadly couldn’t dampen the earthshaking qualities of the allnight dubstep bass. My earplugs didn’t either.

34. Reflexology

34.  reflexologyOne of highlight of Solfest was a session with Edie ‘In Safe Hands’. It was wonderful lying back in the sun having my feet massaged. We then had an hour or so chat which was more like therapy. I was surprised to find myself telling her about my (dead) mum, an old betrayal and many other things. She said she could feel I was holding on to something and later that night I decided to just stop and go with whatever came along. I then spent an idyllic weekend feeling in lurve with C, which is NOT like me at all. Was great fun, but not sure I can keep it up. My critical parent is never far away, which reminds me of ‘Games People Play’ by Eric Berne. Great book.



Seeing as I’ve just attended a fat blogger fashion event I shall attempt once in my life to write about fashion.


Apparently my eyebrows are fashionable at the moment, as they are thick and dark, which was a surprise to me. I’ve never been good at personal grooming, especially if it hurts. I had an online spat with someone recently cos I was speculating where the line is between men who insist that women shave off every hair, and paedophiles. Spose I’m just showing my age.

ImageIt really is true that if you wait long enough you’ll be ‘on trend’ every now and then- socks n sandals were even in briefly a while ago- though only for men, and only brave ones at that. I regularly wear them for several sensible reasons and I couldn’t give a shit what anyone else thinks:

1. Sandals get sweaty and smelly, but not if you wear socks with them (and change them).

2. Leeds weather is often a bit warm, a bit cold: socks and sandals = perfect.

3. If you’ve got nice stripey socks you can show more of them off in sandals than shoes.

4. I’m contrary- the more you scoff the more I’ll wear ‘em.

I sat in City Square t’other day and literally couldn’t believe what women wear on their feet these days. Instruments of torture which will probably cause longterm back problems, shorten their leg tendons and make their feet look like blistered talons. Not to mention risking sprained ankles while they’re tottering around. Why do they do it? Really, WHY?

I do like clothes, especially if they’re bright and comfy. ImageBut I missed out on fashion as I spent my formative years being a hippy/crusty going to free festivals and having a great time. This was probably my best haircut ever.

Note the homemade stripey jumper. Wonder where that went.

Anyway, the Plus North event was lovely, lots of young gorgeous big birds strutting their stuff- if you are interested in fatshion, take a look at the fb page. There’s lots of links to proper fashion blogs, I don’t think I have the knack.

I shall return to writing about topics I vaguely know sommat about. Quantum physics anyone?

Dating Part 3

I know I know I said I was giving it up, but it’s harder than I realised. Maybe I’m addicted to failure, or that slightly cringing feeling I get when I click through the profiles. I feel like one of BF Skinner’s pigeons- can’t give up trying just in case a reward comes through. Unlikely but always possible.

OKCupid is an American free site, aimed at people who think they’re clever and are slightly nerdy. Just like me! ‘Cept the yankee bit.

I feel compelled to give you some examples of the truly shocking things people agree with in the many multiple choice questions, to save you the bother of registering (unless you’re a funny clever single man in Leeds who wants a sarcastic clever gorgeous girlfriend, in which case get on with it. I’m waiting!).

‘I don’t like to discuss politics with my partner because they’re boring (fair enough) and personal ‘???. Wonder what he’s looking for in a relationship.

‘Flag burning is more offensive than book burning. And should be illegal’.

At least you can screen people out for such weirdness. But it seems there’s very few left after my filtering. And those are married. I may be a victim of my own high standards.

‘I am attracted to intelligent women who where glasses’ ( sic). My kind of man- if he could spell and didn’t follow it up with ‘I’m a Christian and it’s very important’.

Women have an obligation to keep their legs shaved’’. That’s it, I can’t read any more.

I keep saying I’m gonna give up the whole internet dating business, but then I get a message from someone who looks interesting and off I go again swapping personal info, cracking jokes, falling in love with myself all over again. Then they either suddenly stop contact for no apparent reason, never to be heard from again, or I meet them and realise I just don’t fancy middle aged men. Yep, seems I’m the one with the problem.

I’m beginning to see why some 40+ women resort to stealing attached men- the single ones all have sommat wrong with them.  This does not excuse them, but I can understand their desperation. Me, I’m not convinced the attached ones are any better and if he leaves someone for you, then really what do you expect in the future? Oh sorry, you’re special.

Dearie me I am getting cynical. I even reread Valerie Solanas’ SCUM manifesto. She was pretty mad but she had a few good points.

Read it here http://www.spunk.org/texts/anarcfem/sp001291.txt

Courtesy of OKCupid I’ve now met a hobbit living in Newark, a Finnish anarchowitch who’s 35 but looks like a 50 year old wizard and several 19 year olds who think because I’m their Mum’s age I might teach them a thing or two- they’re mistaken- I really can’t be bothered. I hasten to add I didn’t meet the latter in the flesh. Aint the world a strange place?

And now I’m about to embark on an illadvised affair with a rebellious muslim man fresh out of his marriage with kids, which involved breaking most of my hard learnt rules: he’s on the rebound, we flirted before we even met, discussed sex in way too much detail and agreed to enjoy ourselves with no commitment. Who knew twitter could be an effective instrument of foreplay? For some reason he thinks I’m exotic because I used to go to free festivals, drive my old ambulance to raves, take loads of drugs* and like talking about quantum theories.

I must be bloody mad. Still, it’s unlikely to be boring. I’ve told him that it’s only till Mr Right comes along, at which point we discuss terms and I’ll have to go with the best offer. He’ll then obviously realise he’s madly in love with me and hang desperately onto my leg as I mount Spock’s white charger to ride off into the holographic sunset.

* He ‘thinks’- hearsay m’lud.

UPDATE after 3 months of completely messing me around, the socalled affair didn’t happen. I don’t understand how I let that happen, apart from the fact that I liked him when I met him.

Lesson 1: don’t get involved with ‘separated men’.

Lesson 2: Don’t indulge in sextalk with strangers unless that’s all you want.