The things I do for science, rationalism and Tim!

Later this week I’ll be heading down to London to TAM. This is my wobble and I’m hoping that by writing about it it will relay some of the anxiety. Please bear with me as I trundle through my brain.

I first heard about TAM last year in the paper and thought it sounded amazing (no pun intended), then promptly forgot about it. Until someone retweeted it on twitter earlier this year. Almost I immediately I decided I wanted to go, but then my ever-so-practical side kicked in, as it always does. Can I go? How will I get there? Will I be able to cope? Those of you who know me will be aware I have Muscular Dystrophy, those who don’t – I do. I try to live as normal and independent life as possible, but I won’t lie – my life is hard, partly because I’m to stubborn to accept or ask for help. Still I have a pretty good life so I try not to whinge. But why should I miss out on something’s I really want to do just because I am disabled? I can’t do some things so I should do those I can while I can.

However, I do struggle with things other people don’t even think about. In some ways I’m a little like a blind person, in places and situations I’m familiar with I’m fine, in new and unusual situations I find it hard. Things like opening doors or standing up from chairs. How to balance, where to put my feet, will my back seize up if I sit/stand/walk too much, what if I fall down? These are the stupid things I worry about.

I’ve tried to be organized, I’ve contacted the hotel, the organizers, planned my journey. I can’t do much more. I’m sure everyone will be lovely (that’s what I keep being told) and I need to get some self-belief and if necessary, ask for help, even though that doesn’t help my self-esteem! I think my dad hasn’t helped, I know he only cares but he keeps coming across as ‘you can’t do this”. I don’t see why not, I’m 28, I’m a grown-up and I know what I can and can’t do. FFS, it’s a weekend in London, not backpacking around Peru! I think part of my negativity is that I’ve been let down so much in the past that I talk myself out of things so I won’t be disappointed.

So, I’m going. I’m meeting up with one of my oldest friends on Friday night, I’m going to have a great time, see some amazing speakers, learn interesting things, hopefully meet some new people (and put faces/bodies to twitter names), and maybe suck it up and take a note fro A Streetcar Named Desire ad rely on the ‘kindness of strangers’. And as my dad says ‘the things you worry about most in life never happen’.

Wonder Years

It's been a long time since I've blogged so I'm going to try to do better. Starting now.

I think it's my age but all my friends and people I work with are having children. Or at least are getting married and I'm sure kids are not far behind. Now I'm not going to have children but hearing them all talk about them has made me realise I do have an ethos on raising children. And it stems from my own childhood.

I know many people say how differently they would raise their own kids from how they were raised. In some ways I would (hypothetically) do things differently, the fights I had with my parents about hair dying or piercings were stupid and unnecessary, they should have conceded some of the small stuff, but looking back I had a pretty good childhood. Actually it was great, especially if you don't look at the bullying, torment and hospital visits. But that's another story.

There is a guy at work who is married with two kids under the age of 5. Nice bloke, nice wife, nice kids, nice family. But what bugs me most of all is the money he spends on those kids. I'm not talking hundreds on designer clothes or toys, but his philosophy seems to be that kids can only have fun if you spend money. An example, if I may. A few weeks ago he had the kids whilst his wife was at work, he asked for suggestions for things to do with them. Being a nice weekend I suggested a kick around in the park and perhaps a picnic. He shot me down and ended up taking them to some carnival where he spent £3.50 each on balloons, and money here and there on sweets, ice cream, games etc. Now I'm not saying that the kids didn't have a fun day but after £30 they are not going to remember it any more than a free day in the park. And that's not all, they can't take the kids out without spending money on something - entrance fees, souveniers, drinks, food, vending machines.

It got me thinking about when I was much younger. We didn't have a lot of money when I was growing up in the 80's and early 90's but I never really felt I was missing out, in fact the opposite. I was lucky, we were always busy and my sisters and I were always making something or doing something. And mostly for free or very cheap.

Every weekend we went for a walk in the countryside, and yes, we were sometimes bored, but our parents made it fun. When the rhodedendrons dropped we would collect them on sticks, we learnt the names of the trees and flowers. Our parents rewarded us with little things, a go on the swings, occasionally an ice cream, or even a lemonade in a pub garden. Because these were treats we didn't expect them and it made an outing extra special.

But we had just as much fun at home. When I think back at the good times I don't think of the toys or games, I remember cooking with my mum in the kitchen, making jam tarts and cakes, licking the spoon and helping to decorate. I learnt to bake at my mum's apron strings. But the most fun my sisters and I had was with a cardboard box. Sometimes things like a new TV came in giant cardboard boxes and we would spend days entertained by this box. We'd sit in it and push each other around, make den's or God knows what else. When it fell apart we'd draw on it or cut it up. So much fun!

We were all creative, playing in washing baskets, playing schools or supermarkets when my mum would give us packets and tins from her kitchen we could use with our till. We'd make 'rose perfume' from fallen rose petals or my nana would teach us to sew or knit. During the long summer holidays we would keep scrap books or diaries, sticking in pressed flowers or ticket stubs and even, on one rainy afternoon, cutting up and pasting an Argos catalogue!

It saddens me that so many kids now are not going to have memories like this. Where riding bikes, a trip to the library or pond dipping in the woods was a good afternoon. When these kids grow up they aren't going to remember what computer game they played, how many trips to McDonalds they had or how much money was spent. So, what are they going to remember fondly when they look back?

Snowed Out

In case you've been living under a duvet recently you may have noticed it's been snowing. For most people it's a joy, with a side of minor inconvenience. Schools shut, work cancelled, a great excuse for reliving your childhood then retreating back home for hot chocolate and warming up by the fire.

For me it's a nightmare. I hate snow. Sure it's pretty and levelling but it causes me no end of angst. I have been 'snowed out' since Tuesday. I can't walk on the snow, or I can but I need help. And don't even get me started on ice. I have two problems. If I fall I can't get up without help and if I slip and break a leg I won't ever walk again. Now that's life changing snow.

I live on my own. I obviously like my independance but when it snows I either stay home or go to stay at my childhood home with my parents. Staying home is not a long term option. For a start after about 24 hours I'd go stir crazy, and secondly, I work full time. I have targets and deadlines and responsibilities so I can't just sit at home and ride out an extended holiday. Working from home is not an option either.

The physically getting to work doesn't bother me too much. I have a four-wheel drive jeep (albeit a small one) and it handles the snow and ice like a dream. My problem is getting from the house to the car. Hence, my parents. At their house I can park close to the door and they can help me and ensure I don't spectacularly fall. Hence, I have made it to the office every day this week.

I just hate having to do this. Practically it's the best solution but it's very depressing having to be treated like a child again and not being able to cope. And it's the little things that push me over the edge: not being able to watch what I want on TV, not having my books, DVD's etc. Using my own bathroom, making dinner in my own kitchen, having to get up at stupid-o'clock to make the commute to work.

And at nearly 28 it's not a good idea to live with your parents!

So it does rather annoy me when people call in snow to work. If I can make it in, so can you.

Rant over and wish for summer ;-)

2009: A Summary

So, it appears another year has come and gone and I've been trying to figure out where on the bell curve it falls. I can only seem to remember the bad things but that may be because November took a nosedive. So I thought I'd summarise...

Bad stuff:

• I was almost made redundant
• The year started badly
• I still spend far too much time on my own
• I am struggling more than ever
• I am still way too unhappy most of the time
• I don't appreciate my life

Good stuff:

• I went to see Jodi Picoult on her book tour and met her (and had a fantastic evening with my oldest friend).
• I saw Tim Minchin's "Ready for this?" and met him. Fabulous night and lovely guy.
• I went to Sweden and Denmark.
• I got promoted instead of redundant.
• I discovered the wonderful world of Twitter and met loads of likeminded people.
• I signed up for a writing class and have started writing.
• I discovered Skeptics, new comedians and new ideas.
• I am the proud new owner of an iPhone.
• I've had some great family get togethers.
• I got another tattoo.
• Lots of far worse things could have happened.

I'm sure I can and will add to this. On paper my year could have been worse. Roll on 2010!!!