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Aug. 18th, 2015 08:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolI turned 28 last week, which felt faintly traumatic. I had a plan for a birthday get together but due to summer holidays, convention panels that people were by all accounts being awesome on, the Royal Northern Opera and my own poor preparation it ended up as just me, Richie and Fiona at the local pub on a Saturday night. On Sunday we went to the Gladiator Games which was super awesome good fun, though. An outdoor event I was initially a little dubious about, it was basically a load of historic reenactors doing a gladiator tournament. It was gloriously violent, took place in the blazing sunshine at the old Roman amphitheatre (oh London, I love you) and at one point had Fiona and I howling abuse along the lines of STICK HIM WITH THE POINTY END. Brilliant fun, so not a bad weekend in itself! Plus Louise was staying on Monday and Tuesday night, so Tuesday evening we got far too much curry and drank wine and all was lovely.
I, just, er. I sort of feel like I should be achieving a little more for someone who is now Nearly 30. I found myself having a rather unpleasant self dislike spiral on Wednesday and Thursday, which led to just wanting to sit in the loo and have a cry at work. Which, again, is sort of bad. ("Everyone hates me! I look like a moose with leprosy! I'm a terrible wife! I'm a fraud at my job!") I'm not being helped by the engineering works on the Tube, which means I have to take a roundabout route to work that involves a lot of walking and in the evening running for the first train roughly going my way at Liverpool Street and hoping for the best. It has mostly not been the best. I'm getting up a lot earlier, which means my body clock and the light it expects is all a little bit wrong, too.
SO. On Thursday I came home and watched Parks and Rec and Yonderland (the latter, by the way, is making me cry with laughter) and on Friday I went out with work. And I tried to constantly tell myself that okay, I may not have bought a house or learned to ride that motorbike yet, but I am an exceedingly well qualified person! Educationally and professionally! And I may not yet particularly like my body (it's a problem, at the moment) but 18 year old me would be flabbergasted, I tell you, that I have finally learned to apply ALL of the make up, yes even the difficult eyebrow stuff, and ALSO have the confidence to mostly say 'fuck it' and just whack on some vestiges of goth eyeliner for work pretty much EVERY DAY. And that I am capable of picking out clothes APPROPRIATE FOR THE SITUATION. And I'm in a place in my life where when my tights ladder uncomfortably around the toe, I have the disposable income to BUY ANOTHER PAIR OF TIGHTS ON MY LUNCH rather than be in pain all day. And I can socialise with DIFFERENT KINDS OF PEOPLE in WEIRD SITUATIONS. I can also COSPLAY AT CONVENTIONS. And I have LOTS OF FRIENDS who are, incidentally, amazingly well-rounded and brilliant individuals, so if they like me there must be something right about me, right?
On Saturday, Richie and I went out for Michelin star Peruvian food. There's a sentence I wouldn't have believed when I was 18. I wouldn't have much believed it when I was 25, actually. But he had a voucher through work for a nice meal out and we just went for it. I asked cheerfully and confidently if certain items were vegetarian, ordered them, and then ate them, even though I didn't know what the flavours were. Because I am so much more open minded about food, and I wanted to be that ever since I blossomed out of the significantly pickier teenager I was. I can order wine and talk confidently about it in restaurants, some very nice ones I have been lucky enough to try, but I am also pretty bloody good at ordering in Pizza Express now. Many worlds.
And I still write - ok, it's fic, but it makes me happy - and generally there are lots of good things in my life. Although I really do think I might put some effort into getting my bike licence before I'm 30, because why the hell not?
Er. That was all a bit angstier than I meant.
This weekend I'm going to Ormskirk for Megan's engagement party. I know, I'm as shocked as everyone else despite several hundred words before this regarding ageing and the passing of time.
I, just, er. I sort of feel like I should be achieving a little more for someone who is now Nearly 30. I found myself having a rather unpleasant self dislike spiral on Wednesday and Thursday, which led to just wanting to sit in the loo and have a cry at work. Which, again, is sort of bad. ("Everyone hates me! I look like a moose with leprosy! I'm a terrible wife! I'm a fraud at my job!") I'm not being helped by the engineering works on the Tube, which means I have to take a roundabout route to work that involves a lot of walking and in the evening running for the first train roughly going my way at Liverpool Street and hoping for the best. It has mostly not been the best. I'm getting up a lot earlier, which means my body clock and the light it expects is all a little bit wrong, too.
SO. On Thursday I came home and watched Parks and Rec and Yonderland (the latter, by the way, is making me cry with laughter) and on Friday I went out with work. And I tried to constantly tell myself that okay, I may not have bought a house or learned to ride that motorbike yet, but I am an exceedingly well qualified person! Educationally and professionally! And I may not yet particularly like my body (it's a problem, at the moment) but 18 year old me would be flabbergasted, I tell you, that I have finally learned to apply ALL of the make up, yes even the difficult eyebrow stuff, and ALSO have the confidence to mostly say 'fuck it' and just whack on some vestiges of goth eyeliner for work pretty much EVERY DAY. And that I am capable of picking out clothes APPROPRIATE FOR THE SITUATION. And I'm in a place in my life where when my tights ladder uncomfortably around the toe, I have the disposable income to BUY ANOTHER PAIR OF TIGHTS ON MY LUNCH rather than be in pain all day. And I can socialise with DIFFERENT KINDS OF PEOPLE in WEIRD SITUATIONS. I can also COSPLAY AT CONVENTIONS. And I have LOTS OF FRIENDS who are, incidentally, amazingly well-rounded and brilliant individuals, so if they like me there must be something right about me, right?
On Saturday, Richie and I went out for Michelin star Peruvian food. There's a sentence I wouldn't have believed when I was 18. I wouldn't have much believed it when I was 25, actually. But he had a voucher through work for a nice meal out and we just went for it. I asked cheerfully and confidently if certain items were vegetarian, ordered them, and then ate them, even though I didn't know what the flavours were. Because I am so much more open minded about food, and I wanted to be that ever since I blossomed out of the significantly pickier teenager I was. I can order wine and talk confidently about it in restaurants, some very nice ones I have been lucky enough to try, but I am also pretty bloody good at ordering in Pizza Express now. Many worlds.
And I still write - ok, it's fic, but it makes me happy - and generally there are lots of good things in my life. Although I really do think I might put some effort into getting my bike licence before I'm 30, because why the hell not?
Er. That was all a bit angstier than I meant.
This weekend I'm going to Ormskirk for Megan's engagement party. I know, I'm as shocked as everyone else despite several hundred words before this regarding ageing and the passing of time.
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Date: 2015-08-18 08:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-08-19 06:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-08-19 07:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-08-18 08:36 pm (UTC)Also, Megan's engagement party, oh no, oh no.
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Date: 2015-08-19 06:38 pm (UTC)And yes, OH NO OH NO is the correct phrasing. I am taking half a day's leave in order to attend her engagement party at The Coach and Horses in Maghull. I have been informed there will be a DJ. I have had to check dress codes. AAARRFGGHH