Update

It's been a while since i last blogged. I'll do a proper update soon but I've just not felt like it.

It's almost Christmas time. I love Christmas and have been listening to christmas tunes on my ipod for a couple of weeks!

I've met a lovely man. He makes me very happy and treats me like a princess.

Work's still there!

End of update!

Keep on running!

I’ve worked at Leukaemia CARE for nearly two years and met hundreds of runners and given advice to them but personally, I’ve never taken part in a race.

On Sunday that all changed as I took part in the Hydro Active Women's Challenge, a 5km run around Hyde Park. It is organised by the London marathon office and involved 15,000 women running for all sorts of good causes.

I was running with my sister and as we lined up at the start at 11am the nerves kicked in but as we counted down and started to shuffle forwards to the start line the nerves turned to excitement. Waved across the start line by Linda Robson, my sister and I ran hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder. We ran past some of the slower runners and people who were walking the whole distance, waved on by the crowds (and some very bemused tourists!).

As we passed the 1km mark my sister gave me the thumbs up. I grinned with pride. I hate running but here I was one fifth of the way through a race. At about 1.5km I needed to walk for a bit but told my sister to go on ahead of me. I power walked for a while then just after the 2km mark started to run again. At half way there were a lot of crowds and other charities supporting their runners which again was a huge pick up. Just after 3km I saw my brother-in-law who was our one man support team! I high fived him and jogged off around the corner feeling a new life in my legs.

The rest of the course was a mixture of walking and running, I’d developed several blisters on my feet and was feeling quite dehydrated. There was quite a big hill about 500m from the finish which might as well have been Mount Everest but once I was past that I could see the finish. My legs picked up, I started to run and with 100m to go I sprinted to the finish as the announcer said ‘Well done, Alice’ over the loud speaker. As I crossed the finish line I expected to feel jubilant and excited. Actually I felt like I was going to die and nearly crashed straight into Jonathon Davies and a BBC camera crew! I soon recovered, especially as I was handed my finishers medal and goodie bag and the elation kicked in.

I completed the run in 45 minutes which I am SO proud of. I am not a runner. I hate running. I used to cheat at cross country! But I did it and I’m glad I did. I think that it just goes to show that you can do anything if you put your mind to it.

Thank you to everyone who sponsored my sister and me, if anyone else would like to sponsor us you can do it online at www.justgiving.com/aliceandhannah

Changes - Turn and Face the Strain

A lot has changed since I last blogged. It's been nearly 2 months.

Well I have moved out of the family home into my very own flat. It's lovely and it's nice to have space and my own stuff. I'm still terrified about it all but its too late now.

I feel odd today. I've been off work for a week and today is my first day back. I cannot wait for it to finish. I'm so frustrated and feel so ill. I am trying not to get irritated by everything but its quite hard!

I don't know. I thought everything would be better and that I was on the right track but actually, whilst everything is different, nothing has changed.

"Which Way Do I Go?"

One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree.

"Which road do I take?" she asked.

"Where do you want to go?" was his response.

"I don't know," Alice answered.

"Then," said the cat, "it doesn't matter."

Smoking Ban

A smoking ban comes into force on Sunday. You won't be allowed to smoke in enclosed public spaces. So no smoking in bars, restaurants, clubs, offices, etc.

There is a massive, incredibly expensive advertising campaign to let people know about the ban.

Why? It's all over the news and has been for ages. There's articles in papers, thousands of leafelts anywhere within 10m of somewhere that sells patches so unless for the past few months you've been in some kind of nicotine induced coma, you know there is a ban coming into force.

I doubt there is a smoker in the country who hasn't had some smug, over zealous health freak come bounding up to them whilst trying to enjoy a brief moment of tar-related bliss wagging their finger and telling them that their days are numbered. It's not like they aren't aware that the ban is coming in.

Or is this stupid waste of government money just in case there are those out there thinking about taking it up as a new hobby!

Either way, I don't have any opinion on this smoking ban. I am an ex-smoker. I'm not an annoying ex-smoker who is 'reformed' and now preaching the gospel of fresh air to all an sundry. Nor am I an ex-smoker who hangs around smokey bars desperately trying to inhale nicotine passively or somehow letting it osmosise through my skin into my veins.

I don't care whether people smoke or not. I don't like stupid drunk tarts brandishing their cigarettes on the dance floor like some miniture glow stick as more often than not their spacial awareness is somewhat lacking leaving me a human ashtray. But the smokey atmosphere doesn't bother me.

In fact, whilst the majority of people are excited at the prospect of being able to go home from a night out not smelling of cigarette smoke, I am getting increasingly nervous about actually being able to smell the vile body odour and cheap aftershave of the no hopers who hang around town on a Saturday night.

God bless the government for bestowing this pleasure on us.

Like ships in the night

Isn't it strange how there are people in your life who you recognise but don't know. People who you see as you go through your life but never actually talk to. Like the muscle heads who are always using the weights area at the gym, the girl behind the bar at the nightclub, and the people you pass every morning on your way to work.

There is one girl I drive past every morning on my way to work. She wears the same thing to work every day and walks the same route. In the summer she wears a long black skirt, black vest and trainers and in the winter she wears black striped trousers, a black hoodie and the same trainers.

Over the weekend, this girl had her haircut. It looks really nice. Before she had long straight hair with no real 'style' and now it's all shaped around her face and just looks great.

I don't know this girl. I don't know her name or where she works. But part of me wants to be able to tell her that her hair looks really nice and it really suits her. But I can't. Because she wouldn't even recognise me as all I do is drive past her every day without her noticing.

Moving on with life - My Mid-Twenties Crisis

Okay, well once again I've failed to blog for over 2 weeks but never mind, eh? It's been an odd two weeks.

My sister got married. She's now Mrs Hannah Gordon which is incredibly exciting but weird at the same time. The wedding day went really quickly. I have no idea where time went or what I did all day. Part of me feels like I missed it, that it didn't really happen. For the past 16 months everything has been geared towards the wedding. Anything else that needed to be done was put off till 'after the wedding' and now it is after the wedding but all of the other stuff is still waiting to be done.

I went back to work and nothing had changed. I had nothing to work towards, just the usual things. Due to various reasons (which I could do a whole other post about!), I've now not seen my manager for over 3 weeks so I don't really have any direction at work.

I turn 25 in two and a half months and I'm having a bit of a crisis about it.

I've always been one to plan and right now, I have no plan. This terrifies me.

Whilst I love my job, I don't feel like it's going anywhere. Things keep changing at the office but not for me. I stay the same, do the same things. I don't feel like I have any support from people higher than me. I'm not paid much and I have no 'career ladder' to climb. It all feels completely in limbo.

I still live with my parents and can't really afford to move out. I love my parents but I want my own space. But could I cope with living on my own? I get really lonely sometimes but at the same time don't have any friends I'd want to live with, I like being on my own sometimes.

I can't really afford to buy somewhere due to the wonderful way the property market is in this country but renting seems like throwing money away. Plus on my own with my crap wage, I can't really afford anywhere half decent and I don't want to live in a hole.

And as for other life plans: husbands, kids etc. That doesn't look like it's happening any time soon. I was seeing a guy who turned out to be an arsehole. I'm not heartbroken, it wasn't exactly a long term thing but I just feel stupid for believing that he was a nice guy when clearly he wasn't. Hannah got engaged when she was 25 and whilst I know I don't have to compare myself to her, it scares me how different my life is.

So there you go, I'm about to turn 25 and am absolutely terrified about it.

My Big Sis

In 24 hours my sister will no longer be Hannah Watts. She'll be Mrs Hannah Gordon.

I'm so excited by this but at the same time it doesn't all seem real.

I'm ready for the wedding. I've had my hair cut and my skin tanned. I've had body hair removed and been wrapped in gel and bandages. I've had my nails extended and feet scrubbed. I've got my dress and shoes and jewellery. The orders of service are ready, the menus are printed, the place cards are being written. It's all happening but somehow I can't get it into my head that my big sister, my best friend, is getting married tomorrow.

I'm excited. I am excited because weddings are fun and I love a big party. I am excited because my sister is going to look beautiful. I'm excited because I get a pretty dress and have my hair done. I'm excited because my sister has found someone to share her life with, someone who completes her and makes her happy. I'm excited because I get to have a brother, someone to look out for me (he's already started by giving Hannah the third degree about the guy I'm seeing!).

I don't think it'll seem real until we're outside the church. But it'll be good.

Death, selfishness and grief by the book

Last weekend my Granddad died. It was sudden but I suppose, given that he was in his late eighties, not entirely unexpected.

I am incredibly upset by his death. I loved him so much and have so many happy memories. When I was growing up he used to let me get away with murder! He'd shower me and my sister with presents and we'd go to the drive through McDonalds and take their dog for walks on Cannock Chase. I used to comb his hair whilst he sat on the chair. I used to drink tea from my Errol the Hamster mug and have penguins or kit kats from the pantry. He would tell me stories about all the jobs he'd done and the people he'd met. He'd talk about his time in the war and when he met my Gran.

And now there won't be any more of that.

In all honesty there hadn't been much of that for quite a while but somehow I feel cheated. I feel like I wasn't given a chance to say goodbye and tell him how much I loved him and what he meant to me. When my other Grandpa died and when my Gran died they'd been ill for a long time and we knew it was the end. This was supposed to be a Sunday like any other Sunday when Daddy had simply gone to see him to do his duteous son bit.

But for as much as I loved him, when I was told he'd died, my first thought wasn't one of sadness or shock, it was purely selfish. All I could think was what bad timing it was. In the next few weeks there's a lot going on. Things are very busy at work, it's my sister's hen do and then wedding. My first thought was that I didn't have time for grief.

Maybe some part of this was to do with my job. I face death as a fairly common occurrence with work and not only have been taught how to deal with it but have an NVQ in Bereavement Counselling. I know how you are 'supposed' to grieve. I know the stages and I know what's normal and what's abnormal grief and yet I don't feel like that. I feel as though I should be ticking the boxes as I go through stages but I'm not.

I don't feel anything. I'm not overwhelmed with grief, I'm not sad and crying 24 hours a day. I'm not even thinking about it that much. When I'm at work I think of work things and when I'm at home I think of what's on telly or what's for supper or what washing I need to do. I do cry, but often its triggered by something completely unrelated.

I feel like I'm still waiting for it to hit me. I'm worried that after my sister's wedding at the beginning of May, when I finally stop and take a deep breath, that that's when I won't be able to cope.

Nothing like a bit of Sunshine

The sun is shining and its relatively warm. This means its spring and there is nothing which makes me happier. Not only does it mean longer days and warmer weather but I look damn sexy in my sunglasses!

So, it's time to roll the car windows down, turn up the music and get ready for the summer.

For the first time in a long time, I'm feeling truely positive.

Lack of blogging

I've not felt like blogging much recently. I keep checking back on it thinking someone might have done it for me. Like someone else can just take my thoughts out of my brain and type them out in some vaguely elloquant form on my behalf!

There's been several things I've contemplated blogging on. Here's a brief round up:

* It snowed. It took me 9 1/2 hours to get to and from London. But hey, it was a day out the office. I don't understand how the underground gets so messed up by a bit of snow. Especially when the majority of it is, as the name suggests, UNDER GROUND.

* I hate my job. I'm sick of it. Actually no. I'm sick of the people I work for. I'm sick of not being trusted. I'm sick of people having no belief in me and not being able to contemplate for just a second that I might actually be good at my job.

* We have a new kitten. He's called Harry. He's 4 months old and exceptionally cute (pictures to follow!). Unfortunately he doesn't understand how much his claws and teeth hurt against human skin and therefore the little terrorist has covered me with scratches and puncture marks!

That's about it, I think. I don't want to delve any deeper into my subconscious as whenever I do my entire body gets covered in a rush of absolute dread.

Jade Goody

I hate Jade Goody.

I believe she represents everything that is wrong with society today and living proof that television has reached it's lowest form and the people it is reaching out to are only able to communicate through some ug-language and in doing so undo thousands of years of evoultion and labour.

Jade Goody is the flakiest scab of celebrities which should be peeled off and flicked triamphantly towards the waste paper bin of eternity.

In 2002 (yes, nearly FIVE years ago), Jade Goody went into the Big Brother house. I like Big Brother. It entertains me. It's like having pets you don't have to feed. But I don't think that Big Brother should encourage anyone into the false pretense that 'real people' have of the requisites of fame. They should come along, entertain us for the summer, have a bit of publicity and then go back to some vaguely normal life and leave 'being a celebrity' to those who have a bit of talent.

There was a brief lived television series called 'What Jade Did Next'. It seemed a slightly bizarre when no one had previously bothered to answer the question of what the hell Jade ever did in the first place but now, whenever I see Jade Goody on the cover of OK! or Heat or any tabloid or even, heaven forbid, back on the television screen polluting my ear drums with her vile Bermondsy twang, I have an overwhelming urge to scream 'WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!?'

On the one hand you almost have to respect her. The woman has made millions for doing absolutely bugger all. She's managed to fool a large number people into caring what is going on in her life.

Apparently Jade's 'charm' is that she's 'real'. A slightly ironic statement when you consider the amount of plastic surgery she's had. Maybe it's the fact that she's 'working class', a phrase which the tabloids seem so difficult to define in an age where we're all supposed to be whipping up Nigella Lawson delights and working on our decking at the weekend. Maybe is shows us that Jade still eats pie and chips with her mates and swaps cheery banter with the green grocer and clings to all the vestiages of a lost age. If Jade is 'working class' then the working classes are demanding agents and memberships to Soho House and Cartier watches?

It worries me that every struggling school kid and now say 'Look at Jade. She can barely read, can't spell, struggles to add up and now she's buying a BMW and a flat in Primrose Hill'.

Of course for millions its just another promise the tabloids can't deliver. Jade is the spawn of the tabloid world, oblivious to the world, books and outside knowledge. And now, like some demented modern farmer, the tabloids are starting to feed themselves on their own diseased product. It is like a mother complaining that the child she's brought up on a diet of pure fizzy drinks and McDonalds is now fat and acned.

Jade has entered 'Celebrity Big Brother' and all hell has broken loose. With every day that passes I can imagine Jade's publicists have less and less hair as they all watch helplessly screaming 'Just stop talking' at the television screen.

I am sitting back watching it unfold and secretly hoping that the very television programme that launched Jade into this inexplicable superstar will be the very thing that leads to her ultimate demise.

It's a beautiful irony.