All We Need is Love and Beer, and Old School Metal and Holiday Cheer to be Happy

imag1904

Most of the time you will wonder what it is that makes you feel related to the people your supposed to be related to. Family isn’t a word that  most people would call hostile but then again, their families would probably kick up some kind of fuss.

Get-togethers are like walking into a Gorilla pit at the zoo, where the bananas are questions about your job (or in my case lack off) and the flying faeces is just more questions, about your love life…(or in my case lack off)…

And there isn’t much you can do when you have these metaphorical bananas of profitable career paths thrown at you but just smile sweetly, explain that your are still looking desperately and wait for the flying shit to hit you in the face next. And when said gorillas are done with trying to force feed you their knowlegde of the working world and how I should perhaps change my direction of search, the metaphorical bananas are un-strategically changed from employment to love life. From bananas to flying shit in a matter of seconds.

Sometimes all you really need are a few of your good friends, some lovely wine and the hours of a free day to feel like yourself again.

Most of the time it isn’t the family you were born into that digs you out of your self induced BBC iPlayer coma, its the family that you stumbled upon during those first few years you were introduced to clubbing, shots, Jägerbombs and fancy dress. The friends you have to keep close are the ones that make your pervy comments seem like valid discussion points. These are the loyal friends that think having a full on steak sandwich after a meal at a Chinese buffet is perfectly acceptable, and jump at the chance to join you.

Now if you have chosen your second family wisely, you’ll understand that these people are the ones that may not stay so close by your side for the rest of your life, but they bloody well make the time they are in your life pretty damn marvellous. So don’t be afraid to put your legs up call some people over and have a few bottles of wine at the ready. You’ll thank me later, I promise you.

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Let’s Start a Farm

To those who have green thumbs and to those you just couldn’t give a damn (why are you reading this?) why not try growing a farm? Why not move away from growing pretty little flowers in pretty little rows and grow some freaking onions? Or even some radishes? Know what I’ve started? Chillies. The first moment you see those shoots pop up from the compost, it isn’t pride you feel, it isn’t even joy. It goes along the lines of “Oh thank God I didn’t fail at this too.”

“Thank the heavens unemployment hasn’t destroyed all my brain cells, by spending all day refreshing the front page of Reddit avoiding looking for a job and I am still able to following those little instructions that come at the back of the packet.” 

Then of course there is the joy and the feeling of self-fulfilment. Fulfilment because these little shots will be your children for the next few months, and (because you are basically alone and you are single) you will find yourself talking to these little shoots as if they are the loves of your life. You will find yourself talking to these little green children as if they are everything you ever wanted in a family. They’re quiet, they listen to your every word, they don’t start pointless arguments, they don’t steal your clothes/food/time…They even gift you with precious fruits and only ask for water and sunlight in return. 

IMG_20140407_1[1] Just so you know I am actually taking this all very seriously. These are my children…

I also have dabbled in the idea of growing my own radishes. I say my own; what I actually have come to realise is that they aren’t my own at all. Haha no, no. They belong to the slugs of the night. I merely provide those slow motion beasts with a banquet of baby leaves, fresh horse shit and beautiful soil. They must think I’m either:

Their God, their provider of food and life.

Or they must think I’m the moron who didn’t buy the slug pellets when she had a chance to save her radishes…

Then again, they are snails. Who knows what they think besides “Shit, is that salt? Did I just slide through salt? Oh no my bad, I’m not melting that’s just my DISGUSTING SLIME!”