Wednesday, 31 March 2010

Everything I am...

A teenager dreaming of faraway places or solemnly voicing ambitions to build schools and hospitals in Africa to a disbelieving PSE class whose desires rested upon flash cars and designer trainers.

A school leaver singing a rainbow with coloured balloons teaching quechua children English in darkest Ecuador or trembling with excitement at riding in the back of a pick-up truck for the first time. Pretending to be the sacrificial virgin at Machu Picchu. Living in rural Malawi, tackling Mount Mulanje in the rainy season and feeling as if she's truly awakening to the world for the first time.

A skinny student crossing a river in the Vietnamese mountains or sitting quietly in a temple somewhere in Thailand. Getting lost in Morocco and eating melon and discussing politics with an old man on a deserted roadside.

A girl with a radio in one hand and a map in the other in a muddy English field as we seek to deal with multiple casualties, broken vehicles and general chaos. Remembering what I'm good at and who I am when I'm at my best.

Work sent me on the most useful course ever last week which was all about travel safety and awareness. It certainly covered that but bizarrely has left me feeling more confident in myself having remembered that I am good in a crisis, do think quickly and that other people look to me as a leader. Things that can get lost in the general mire of life. Feeling exhausted and frustrated at work, dealing with friends and relationships and the grind of paying the bills all take it out of you and sometimes make it hard to see the wood for the trees.

Have decided to sod everyone and everything else and to book my adventure for this summer. All on my own, probably somewhere in Asia during the monsoon season. Bring on the spiritual reawakening and hopefully some time to remember who I really am because sometimes right now I worry that between work, relationships and kink I've lost a big part of me. And I like all of me - even the bits that are sometimes hard to fit into life in North-West Enders.

Have also decided to look elsewhere on the work front. They are messing me around, my boss is a psycho and I have had enough. At the very least hopefully it'll mean they take issues that I've raised seriously if I get another offer. Have applied for 4 things and been told I'm very likely to have interviews for two so that's all good.

Sod settling for less than I'm happy to fight for. Stolen from the lovely Echo's blog:

Fuck. That. Shit.

I don't think it's actually on her blog but I definitely got the link from her. You should check her out - not only is her blog named after one of my favourite Catatonia songs ever but she has lots of sexy and interesting things to say.

The plus side is that feeling good about me usually leads to feeling good about kink - so bring on the adventures in pervery as the springtime flowers bloom...

Wednesday, 17 March 2010

Purple Thursday knickers...

So this week didn't quite provoke the flurry of posting that I'd hoped for. In fact the outcome has been something a little akin to a non-kinky workhouse or sweatshop that has seen me toil for fifteen hours a day with little prospect of resolving half of the issues the team here are facing. Not that I haven't *had* kinky thoughts about living here in ancient times (the place has barely changed - it's utterly charming) and being a harem girl or a carpet maker's apprentice or something of that sort. It's just there hasn't been much time to write about it sadly.

However tomorrow I get to wear my purple satin 'Thursday' knickers and start the long journey home. You see, I fell in love with a pack of days of the week knickers in the January sale and eventually succumbed to the purchase. They are very sweet in different shades of pastel satin with the day embroidered on the front and two little bows. Knowing that this trip was looming and I was likely to be suffering the dreaded combination of feeling lonely and being under massive pressure at work I saved them. So that every day I've worn a different pair and could see how many days were left (which was somehow comforting on Monday - which was the day from hell) and got to wear a new pair of knickers which always cheers one up. The last pair which are lilac are laid out for me to wear tomorrow alongside my jeans and a t-shirt and other comforting western clothes.

It will be nice to get home, although this will be fleeting as I am off to Dublin for the weekend with Jessica, Eliane, Haron and Martha to visit Emma-Jane. Our sixth form weekend away will see us wreaking general havoc and hitting Nimneach on Saturday night so if you do see us do say hi!

Saturday, 13 March 2010

Middle Eastern Reformatory

I am on my travels with work again. Sitting in a distant hotel room as the Call to Prayer echoes out across the land. An ancient city surrounded by mountains full of places to inspire kinky thoughts in a girl like me. Work travel has the ability to be terribly isolating as you battle with strange menus, dodgy hotels and the knowledge that everyone back home is probably having a riot whilst you grapple with spreadsheets on a Saturday afternoon. It can however be a time to be introspective, look inwards and rekindle your batteries away from the madding crowd. It's interesting that after months of being a little indifferent about writing I'm feeling the urge to blog again after just two days away from home. Thus this Arabic week (Saturday-Wednesday) I shall endeavour to bring a blog post every day, mainly because I have been having some fabulous adventures over the last few months, I just haven't really felt like blogging about them.

But first (as I really should be preparing a report for tomorrow but have been at work all day and fancy a break) I bring you the striking similarities between travelling in a strict Islamic country and a Victorian reformatory. This is largely inspired by my incarceration in such an institution a couple of weeks ago, which is a story for when I don't have a giant spreadsheet to populate.

1. Rules about dress. Except the reformatory dresses, ribbons and knee socks were far cuter than the long skirt, baggy top and headscarf that I have to wear here. Plus infractions resulted in a beating rather than being arrested or kidnapped!

2. Cold showers. Unlike most of the other inmates I was somewhat unphased by the cold bath at the reformatory (years of messing about in boats do that to you!) but having had three cold showers since I got here is significantly less kinky and really quite annoying.

3. Powercuts. At the reformatory the powercut caused a minor panic and spoiled my cherry batter pudding whilst everyone rushed around trying to find the fuse box. Here there is no fuse box and eventually the generators start roaring and power returns. This happens several times a day, usually when you are just about to save a vital piece of work. Thankfully Jessica bought me a very interesting flashlight that doubles as a vibrator and is perfect for keeping me amused when the power goes out, I would attach a picture but unfortunately the local internet provider has banned the babeland site as 'pornography' :( On that note it is very amusing to discover what does and doesn't constitute porn over here...

4. Working at the weekend. In the reformatory we had to copy boring phrases from the diary and cook for the masters, here I have to go into the office and pretend to do my job. At some point they're going to figure out that I'm a total incompetent but I'm hoping that when they do they won't beat me...

5. Contraband. At the reformatory we smuggled in huge amounts of alcohol and sweet goodies to nibble on. The dressing table of my room here is piled with Mini Eggs, Dairy Milk and Chupa Chupps lollies as often the food in these places is pretty random and I get grumpy when I get hungry.

6. Inspired kinky thoughts...from being wronged by masters at the reformatory to wondering what it would have been like to be a harem girl in years gone by...yes I have a dirty mind.

7. Regular interventions, although at least the hourly punishments at the reformatory didn't wake you up in the middle of the night like the call to prayer!

So there you have it girls and boys - same difference really :)