What’s with men scratching their genitals in public?

The Husband has this tendency of having a shower and then casually strolling into our lounge room buck naked and asking me if he should “wear this to work tomorrow?” Whilst his hand is permanently fixed to his appendage and his appendage’s friends aka- his balls! I never tire of him doing this as it has me in fits of giggles each and every time! But it leads me to the question that why must men always play with their fiddle?

Whilst out shopping this morning and being the avid people watcher that I am, I noticed men all handling their packages and by packages I mean their penises and their balls. I noticed that some just scratch, then there are others that tug, and others that just adjust and the freaks who do all of the above as they walk past you. Why do they feel the need to do this and in public? Why?

I try to put myself in their shoes and I ask myself if my vagina were itchy in the middle of a shopping centre would I just scratch out in the open in front of thousands of people? The answer is that there is no way in hell that I would put my hand on my snatch and just scratch. I wouldn’t do it! I couldn’t do it!

My observation also found little boys from say the age of 3 just placing their hand in their pants and scratching, tugging and pulling in the middle of a busy shopping centre. I’m not a mother and have no nephews to be able to relate or understand small children but, and I’m not trying to be an uptight moron here, but aren’t you supposed to teach your child that scratching ones genitals in public is really a no-no?

I think back to my childhood growing up in my family I never ever truly saw my brother; male cousins, father, uncle or grandfathers do this. Am I sounding like I was raised with a plum in my mouth because that is the furthest from the truth! I grew up in a middle class family with some values, but I’m perplexed to say the least and I find it peculiar that some men do this! I also look at The Husband and he has never done that in public nor in front of me in our own home. And NO we aren’t some well-mannered freaks either.

Why do we as women ignore or pretend we didn’t see them playing with their dicks and balls in public? It’s such a turn off to me and I am sure that there are other women out there that think like I do.

I appreciate that in summer or hot climates that people sweat and for some men their cock and balls heat up and it gets all sticky and sweaty but aint it the same thing for us women? I know if I’m not waxed down there I too get hot and sticky and uncomfortable and when it’s the time of the month it gets even hotter down there but you don’t see us tugging at our period pads or our underwear. Right?

I can also understand and appreciate that if you have an insatiable itch and you need to scratch and scratch it immediately to get some relief you have to scratch and its hard to ignore as you want some relief, but if my boob or vagina were itchy I would quickly stroll to the ladies room and scratch to my hearts content.

Today I had direct eye contact with this young man of about 25-30 years of age and off he went scratching then adjusting and I so wanted to scream at him “Ewww you dirty, dirty man” instead I kept direct eye contact with him and scowled. He kept scratching and adjusting and kept walking like what he was doing was perfectly natural. Like WTF???

I believe that no man with “proper” breeding does this and fellas I’m not tarnishing you all with the same brush. But my point is why do you do it? Is it not bad manners? Do you have crabs? Thrush? Eczema? Jock Itch? Fungal disease? What? What is it?

If I ever have a son I can tell you now that he will be taught from a very early age that the little sausage he has dangling in-between his legs is HIS for life. It will be his favourite toy and his best friend, his sausage will bring him so much joy and pleasure and when he is at home he can pull, tug, scratch, adjust, tie it in a knot, do whatever he wants to do with it as much as he wants but when in public it remains nicely concealed in his pants and not for general viewing!

My point is there is a time and a place for everything and scratching, adjusting, tugging in public is a serious turn off for us women, its disgusting, its an eye sore and one that I do not want to have to endure watching!

Why is there a double standard? Why do we let men get away with doing this whilst we women behave non barbaric?

DH

xoxo

Chopsticks...

I am a 40-year-old woman who can’t use chopsticks! It has been one of the “things I gotta do before I die”. Stupid huh? I have a list that I keep that I write things or goals that I want to attain before I die. Funnily enough I think I add things onto this list almost monthly. There is so much I want to do, try, taste, feel, experience and see.

There are times when I think it’s all too hard, it’s all unattainable, and I will never get to do or experience all this stuff. You know the typical negative talk one can sometimes tell themselves.I am usually a pretty positive person, yes I am the type of person who thinks and says that the glass is half full but at times I can hone into the negative and sort of stay in that headspace for a bit. Hey I’m human and I have my annoying and negative moments. Don’t we all?

Anyways back to the chopsticks. I have always wanted to be able to eat with and use chopsticks. It has been one of my life long dreams. Look I know it sounds silly as I guess some people who call jumping out of a plane a life long ambition yet here I am wanting to learn how to use chopsticks! I’m a simple gal.

What is ironic and rather funny though is that I actually have a collection of chopsticks and I have been collecting them for years and years and years. Every time a friend is travelling to Asia I always ask for chopsticks!

Chopsticks are my secret obsession and when I am home alone I tend to pull a pair out and try to use them. Try being the operative word! I tend to fail and fail dismally! Which rather than have me angry or frustrated I tend to laugh my head off at how bad I am. I have this tendency of stabbing at my food and almost eating my vegetables and meat like it’s a spear and with rice I tend to just lick the rice off the chopsticks. I kinda look a tad "primal" if you know what I mean. Which takes me hours, and I mean hours to finish my meal.

I remember a few years back when I went to an amazing Chinese restaurant (which the name escapes me at the moment) but the food was authentic street style Chinese food. The restaurant was so authentic that the waiters and waitresses didn’t speak a word of English and the menu was all in Chinese.

Our food came out and oh my God it was the most amazing food and there were no knives and forks on the table only chopsticks. I had to ask our waitress for a fork and she looked at me initially trying to comprehend what I was asking her for. Once we sort of got through the language barrier and she realised that I wanted a fork she burst out laughing! It was a very funny moment for all I have to admit with me bursting into laughter! That moment though was when I told myself that before I die I have to learn how to use chopsticks.

So today whilst shopping for some coffee cups at a local home wares store there in front of me at the counter were kiddie chopsticks so I just had to purchase a pair. I thought lets do this DH, it’s on your list of things you want to do and achieve and there is no time like the present!

I can’t wait to use them and train myself up to able to use real chopsticks and to finally go to a Chinese restaurant and confidently use the chopsticks! I think tonight I am just going to have to cook some Chinese food for dinner and see how I go.

DH

xoxo

My happiness equals your misery!

I’ve mentioned The Husband in a few blog entries and I know you must all want to vomit as I go on and on and on about how much I love him, yeah its sickening I know but for me marrying my husband was the best thing and decision I have ever made in my 40 years of life!

Its funny though that me meeting him and marrying him so quickly and so soon into our relationship has caused so much havoc and chaos to my so called friends. I think about this a lot and I know that it subconsciously eats at me.

Let me explain without going into it too much but the lead up to my wedding day saw me losing a few friends along the way. At the time I kept telling myself that my friendships with these people was, like the saying goes: “For a reason, a season or a lifetime” But now 2 years after the fact I’m left scratching my head as to why my happiness made me lose my friends.

The Husband is a wonderful human being and all my family tell me how lucky I am to have nabbed such an amazing human being. The husband is no angel, and not perfect by all means. The reality is that no one, not one of us is perfect and angelic. No one! But he is what I classify as a “good guy”. The Husband makes me so happy, he makes me feel alive and there is no better feeling than marrying your best friend who knows absolutely everything about you. For the first time ever I am in a real relationship.

We have our ups and we have our downs but we communicate about everything! And when I say everything I mean everything! We understand one another and we are on the same life path. We are headed on the same direction and want the same things out of life.

Lately though I have been thinking about my dear friend Adelaide. Adelaide and I had been friends for 20 years. We had run muck together, we had partied hard together, we had done so many crazy and fun things together and I remember being so excited going out for coffee with her to tell her that I had finally met my soul mate. We were sitting outdoors at a local cafeteria sipping our coffee and deep down she knew I had something to tell her and I think she knew that I had massive news to tell her and it was about meeting a man.

I remember leaning over to touch her arm to tell her that I was madly and utterly and totally in love with a man and I distinctly remember her jolting at my touch and sort of pulling herself back from me. Let me add that yes I am one of those touchy feely people who tend to touch people, not inappropriately, but I tend to touch people to show my affection towards them. I am not a sexual pervert and I do not inappropriately touch people, but I have always touched people on their arm when I am speaking, or to show comfort, or to show affection. I have tried to not do it but I honestly think it’s my genetic makeup as I have always done it and it’s hard to stop myself. I am the type of person who wears their heart on their sleeve and shows the world how I am feeling. I think also that by touching someone when talking is me showing him or her that I care about them and I sympathise and care for them.

Back to what I was talking about, I have always touched Adelaide, as I said I had known her for 20 odd years and for the first time in 20 years she flinched when I touched her arm. I was startled at her reaction and felt my face flush out of sheer embarrassment as her actions made me feel like I had overstepped the mark or done something awful and invasive! I realised though that it was her defence mechanism taking over, as she didn’t like what I had just told her and boy I wasn’t wrong!

So off I opened my mouth and told her what had happened and that The Husband was going to be moving in with me. Her response was: “umm well I guess I’m happy for you” Yes that’s precisely what she said to me. That was it! No how did you meet him, how old he is all the normal questions two best friends ask one another. Nothing!

I sat there just staring at her and blinking my eyes in utter disbelief! I am not a quiet little mouse usually I usually roar like a lion and say what I think but I just knew then and there that this was probably going to be one of the last times I would ever see or speak to Adelaide. Our coffee outing was soon dissolved as Adelaide said that she had to run. I stood up and hugged her goodbye and she flinched and stiffened up yet again (and we ALWAYS hugged and kissed one another hello and goodbye for 20 years) and watched my best friend walk away. She didn’t even turn around. She held her back straight, shoulders back and almost ran down the street.

Once The Husband had moved in and settled I wanted her to meet him. I knew our friendship was over but I thought I just had to give it one more try. You can’t just let a friendship die in the arse like that and do nothing about it. It took me a good 5 months to finally coax her into coming over for dinner. Countless emails, phone calls, text messages and even going into her workplace to invite her over. I felt like I was stalking her but I didn’t want a man whom she had never met ruin our friendship. I will give her credit she did come over stayed for dinner only and again almost ran out of my home. I think she thought that if she didn’t come over I would continue to stalk her!

I remember that I closed the door and said to The Husband: ‘That is it! I have tried and tried and tried with her and she only stays for an hour and then runs out of here?” The Husband tried everything and he constantly encouraged me to get in touch with her and I listened to him but sadly she dodged me.

I sent her a wedding invite and she was one of the last people to RSVP. She finally accepted only to have us pay a shitload of money for her to attend and then she had the audacity to not even show up. I remember looking for her during our church service and half way through being married I realised that Adelaide and I no longer had a friendship and this man standing in front of me sharing the altar was my only true friend.

I’ve bumped into her a few times in the local shopping mall and down the street and she will only speak to me if I approach her or greet her first and she holds a sheer look of dread on her face when she sees me. Our eyes have met across a crowded supermarket and I know she has seen me yet she turns her face away!

I’m over trying with her and I’m over being the instigator of trying to have a friendship. I don’t know what I have done wrong that has her avoiding me but my attitude is that if I have done something and you don’t tell me what I have done wrong then how am I to know what you are cross about.

If you ever read this Adelaide and you work out that I am talking about you all I have to say to you is that I am sorry that we are no longer friends but at the end of the day if you think back to our friendship I was always the one that invited you out, I was always the one who invited you into my home you never ever, ever reciprocated and I hope that one day you remember me and remember that I was a good friend to you!

What’s really sad is that some of our mutual friends have all told me that she will die an old and lonely woman and as much as I agree with that statement I also cringe as deep down she was once upon a time my dearest of dearest friends.

I have more so-called friends like Adelaide who have dumped me all because I got married and I guess the same thing applies to them. My happiness equals your misery!

DH

xoxo

It was like lightning…

Sitting on the sofa with the husband last night I saw lightning appear from the corner of my eye. For a split second I thought that it was actual lightning but then I realised that my eye and head were preparing me for what was about to ensue.

I looked at the husband and said to him: “A migraine is coming”. I am a migraine sufferer and thankfully I really only get 2-3 hits per year, but it was coming and there was nothing I could really do until it hit me.

I’ve investigated and researched migraines intensively and as useful as the information is I know that for me what works best is to basically sit and wait until it hits me badly, tuck myself to bed, wrap a scarf around my head and eyes and go to bed.

I don’t bother taking pain relief until it hits me. That may not be the right thing to do and that may be not what other migraine sufferers do but its what works for me.

20 minutes into seeing the lightning which was almost permanently etched on my left eye ball I got the worst pain at the base of my head and thought shit this one is going to be a killer.

I slowly dragged myself to bed and my gorgeous husband tucked me into bed and turned all the lights off and had a glass of water on my nightstand, as he knows that I need to be hydrated. I lay my head on my pillows and waited patiently for the huge wave of nausea to come and then the real aching of eyeball, temple and head to visit.

As I lay in the dark I realized that I hadn’t wrapped my head but couldn’t find the words or the energy to yell out of the husband so I decided that if I rocked myself slowly it may lull me into sleep and hopefully I could sleep the migraine off.

Sleep finally came and all was going OK until a friend decided to send me text message at 11.30pm. I woke up startled and was ready to just burst into tears! I had finally gotten myself to sleep and now had been awoken by a text message! Dear friend I could have killed you had you been in front of me at the time.

The husband came to bed and handed me my migraine pain relief and I gladly and appreciatively took it and waited again. And waited, and waited. I got so inpatient and as the pain relief felt like it was taking too long to work. It was most likely only 5 minutes had passed but if you are a migraine sufferer then you know that 5 minutes in migraine hell feels like a blasted lifetime!

I don’t know how long it took but there is no better feeling once this medication starts to work. I felt my entire body just relax, as I was so clenched and tight from the pain. It felt like when you are about to go under for a general anaesthetic. I felt this liquid warmth slowly seep through my body and felt the tingling from my toes slowly moving up to my knees, then to my tummy, then to my chest, my arms and then my head and then…nothingness, total and utter blackness and a beautiful, beautiful sleep.

I awoke this morning feeling 80% better and decided that I was not going into work. Thankfully my work has seen me fall to pieces when a migraine has hit me at work so they know that when I say “I’m not coming in today I have a migraine” they know that there is no exaggeration or fabrication of the facts. They know when DH has a migraine I am incapable of functioning. Thankfully my delightful husband took over and rang my work and explained what was going.

So here I lay on the sofa, laptop in my lap and slowly feeling that I am getting better. I hate people who feel sorry for themselves but the only time I feel for people whingeing of pain are when people complain of migraines. It’s the worst type of pain I have personally experienced and I so feel sorry for my fellow migraine sufferers.

With that I am not going to move form this sofa and continue resting.

DH

xoxo

Ohh crap I've got saggy breasts!

I was looking through some recent photos of myself this morning and like most women I became extremely judgemental on how I looked, how fat I looked, how bad my hair looked and so forth. I'm sure you have all had those moments in your life when you see yourself and just scream out YUK!

I know I'm not alone and I know that every single woman that I am friends with has suffered those awful moments. My entire life I have always looked at photos of myself and nit picked the shit out of myself but today showed me something that I had feared would one day happen to me. I gasped with horror when I saw what was staring back at me. Saggy boobs! Yes saggy boobs! Some people call them boobs, but they are also known as breasts, tits, breasticles, boobies, puppies, jugs, titties, bee stings and so forth, you hopefully get my gist!

My breasts used to stand perky and upright and always what bought me the most amount of attention but alas turning 40 has seen my puppies turn into dogs! I then stood naked in front of a mirror thinking or trying to persuade and convince myself that it was just a bad photo. OK a series of bad photos then. Unfortunately the mirror never lies dear readers, oh no the mirror tells you the truth, the honest truth.

I’ve turned 40 and it feels like it’s all downwards from here on in. My boobs are so saggy I reckon that I could tuck my boobs into my boots if I tried! What’s going to happen to me if I ever have children and I breastfeed? Oh Lord I just don't want to go there!

But alas even though I have seen the evil revenge of age and gravity I have to sit back and laugh as if I don't laugh I will have to cry and I don't believe in wasted tears. I have two options I either have them surgically lifted or appreciate that I have 2 boobs and live with them, sags and all!

I choose living with it!

DH

xoxo

Tell me why I don't like Mondays...

The Boomtown Rats sang a song titled “I don’t like Mondays” and of course they were singing about a 16 year old woman by the name of Brenda Ann Spencer who back in 1979 shot at some innocent children and I think 3 adults.Her response as to why she did such a heinous crime was “I don’t like Mondays and this livens the day”.

I awoke today not in exactly the same head space as Brenda Ann but I did wake up in the foulest of foulest of moods and my brain kindly reminded me that it was Monday and ohhh how I don’t like Mondays!

I opened my eyes this morning and had absolutely no motivation to get up and get to work. I couldn't fathom how Monday had come by again so quickly! I’m okay once Monday passes but Sunday nights I tend to suffer what I refer to as “dread nights”. I almost always suffer moments of anxiety and a tremendous amount of dread. Which in turn almost always has me tossing and turning all of Sunday night in bed.

Seems though that I was so anxious and dreading going to work today that the husband told me that I was talking in my sleep. I don’t know what’s wrong with me but exhaustion, frustration and fatigue has reared its ugly head and getting myself out of bed is just agonizing.

If I wasn’t so loyal to my job and couldn’t care then I would have pulled a sickie today and called in sick complaining of some fake ailment! I wish I had the balls to do that, to lie to my boss and not go into work but alas I just couldn’t and can’t bring myself to doing something like that.

I’m at a point in my life and in my career where I am feeling a tad disillusioned with life and career. Don’t get me wrong I love my home life and wouldn’t change a single thing about it but there has to be more to life than just work. Right? Today has left me questioning this, and questioning this and questioning this.

I thought back to my life and realized that I have never ever been unemployed. Not a single day of unemployment. I feel blessed that I have been lucky enough to always have been in paid employment. But I am a 40-year-old woman who hasn’t had massive breaks from work; I had 6 months off to go backpacking through Europe and Asia some 10 years ago. I’m left feeling ripped off and disillusioned in a sense. All I have done and do is work, work, work.

I can confidentially say that I don’t love my job; in fact I have never loved my job. I stay in my current workplace only because they tell me that I am great at my job but they all don’t realize that I’m not great at my job I just have the routine and procedures down pat. Repetition is the key to success in any job; well that’s what I think! If you are constantly repeating your job and doing and saying the same things over and over then you cant go wrong!

So why do I do what I do? I can honestly say that I do it so that I may be “rewarded” with my pay each and every month. I’ve become so sad and pathetic!

Hopefully tomorrow being Tuesday will bring me a better day and hopefully snap me out of my Monday-itis! Tell me friends am I the only one that doesn’t like Mondays and am I the only one who feels that all they seem to do is work?

DH

xoxo

All you need is love...

Ive had such a busy week at work that it has left me feeling manic today. I had to do a full 6 days of work Monday through to Saturday and my only rest day was supposed to be today - Sunday.

But alas some dear friends of ours needed to come over to pick up some paperwork which saw me waking up at the crack of dawn on a Sunday and do a massive clean up of the house! Just as I sat down to rest our friends had shown up. Love their company, love having a laugh with them, love having people over but today I just could not find my spark and my va-voom.

Its rather embarrassing for me when I feel so flat and just have no motivation or drive to entertain. Thankfully our friends were also in the same kind of funk so it ended up not being such a bad day with them.

Its ace to see our friends finally settled and married after being together for 8 years. It was gorgeous to see them one week post their wedding so happy and relaxed and so in love. During the evening it took me back to when The Husband and I were so in love and so GA-GA and all over one another. Don't get me wrong I love my husband more today than I did yesterday and we are the type of mushy couple that I used to detest as we are all over each other constantly. But today seeing our friends really put a smile on my face. Its like finally there is look of complete and utter love, complete and utter comfort with one another and a sense of safety between them. It was so nice to see.

I'm just so saddened to see some of my other friends who are either married, or in a de-facto relationship or dating who seem to be in their relationships just for the sake of being in one rather than being alone. I could go on about this but that's another blog entry in itself!

Which brings me to once upon a time when I was single and hadn't met my husband how I used to loathe the couples who were always mushy, mushy, kissy, kissy all the time. Sadly I have become one of them! Which, to me, is just so damn hilarious! I never in a million years thought that I would end up with a man who would organically make me something I despised!

Its funny how love can do such amazing and weird things to you. I used to be so closed off to love and romance and was never interested in settling down and marrying "the one". I always believed, and I say this with hand on heart, that there was no such think as Mr Right or The One. I was always a believer, a firm believer of "Mr Right-Now".

But alas I met a man who blew my mind and before you could blink I was dressed in white, walking down a church aisle and declaring to the world how much I loved him and I was his and he was mine.

Funny how the things you think will never happen to you, or things that you don't want to happen to you do. Ive realised that the saying "never say never" is so true!

There is nothing better in the world for me than going to bed each and every night and having my husband snuggle up close with me. Since I met him I have never felt more loved, needed, respected and idolised and there is no better feeling in the world.

So tonight I hope you all snuggle up to your loved one and you tell them how much you love them, because like the mighty Beatles once sang: "All you need is love". If you have no love in your life then there is no life to live! And I am not talking about love as in two people falling in love and being in love I'm talking any kind of love, whether it be the love your parent gives you, the love your pet gives you. Any sort of love!

I sign off singing The Beatles: "All you need is love"...

DH

xoxo

Growing up me...

Growing up I was always considered a bit "rough" around the edges and in a sense I was a tomboy who loved girlie things. Ironic huh? I loved nothing more than climbing trees with my older brother, playing cricket, throwing the Frisbee and then playing in my room full of dolls. I remember my favourite doll Drowsy whom I refused to be separate from. My uncle Gee had bought her back from the States as a gift. I climbed trees with Drowsy wrapped in my baby sling made out of my jumper. (Who would have thought 30 years later that baby slings would be the fashion statement for the yummy mummies and I could have made millions if I had made the prototype!)

I digress..I was raised to have an opinion and to say what I wanted to say but manners were the most important thing. To compress or zip my 40 years of existence into one blog entry I can safely say that I was and still am an opinionated, foul mouthed, loud but polite woman!

My entire teens and twenties I was unsure of myself, I felt like a loner and secluded myself from the world as I realised that by being on my own no one could harm me. being like this hardened me up and I had massive imaginary brick walls surrounding me. I kept people and by people I mean everyone at arms length and subconsciously had the "Don't fuck with me" attitude plastered all over my face. I felt different as I didn't like the "boy-bands" that my friends liked to listen to I liked faster, harder, louder, angry music. I liked to read whilst my friends liked to go to the mall and try to pick up boys. I liked to watch European movies whilst my friends wanted to go clubbing. I was (and still am) obsessed with drinking copious amounts of coffee whilst my friends drank themselves stupid on Midori and Lemonade.

I found it extremely difficult to make friends with like minded people, which in turn left me secluding myself from my friends and kind of shutting myself off from them as I had NOTHING in common with them! There was not ONE single thing that could make my friends bond with me. Don't get me wrong, these friends at the time were lovely, truly lovely people but we, or I, was on another planet far removed from them. I was "different" from them and no matter what I did I couldn't fit in no matter how much I wanted to. Which in turn left me feeling odd. I was the freak. Which then made me angry. Angry at my friends, angry with my family, angry with the world.

Looking back now that i have hit 40 it has made me realise that just because my "oddness" or "quirkiness" wasn't relate able to my family and friends that was why I was so angry. Such a wasted energy being angry all the time but alas my anger is what has bought me to where I am at now I guess. I always ask myself if I had the power to go back in time, knowing what I know now, would I really and truly change a thing? I really think I wouldn't. The mistakes I have made, the lonely days I spent, the angry days I had have made me who I am and for the first time in 40 years I finally feel comfortable in my skin. I am happy with who I am, who I have become and I feel liberated. I feel alive.

I believe a lot of being finally comfortable and happy within has got to do with finally meeting the love of my life and marrying my husband. For once someone other than my sibling and parents loves me for me and there is no more empowering feeling than being loved unconditionally, totally and wholly. My husband whom I will refer to as "The Husband" from hereon in stimulated my mind, broke down my barriers and stripped me raw emotionally and for that I feel so blessed and happy that he found me and chose me.

I'm 40 and finally an adult, I best rephrase that, I was an adult when I hit 18 but now at 40 I truly feel like an adult with a voice and with a voice that matters, but you know even now at this age I miss my baby doll Drowsy. I hope that I can find another Drowsy when and if I ever have a baby girl so she can have as much fun and adventure as I did with her. Its funny how something so silly like a Drowsy doll encompassed my childhood and to this day still takes me back to happy childhood, carefree times.

DH

xoxo

My name is Dishevelled Happiness.

I've wanted to write a blog for so many years and have sat down on numerous occasions full of ideas and thoughts only to have me afraid of doing so.

Let me define afraid, when I say afraid, I mean it as if I write something and someone I know reads it what are the consequences going to be? What happens if I write something that truly offends? Am I going to be read the riot act by my family and friends? Am I going to start a "Dishevelled Happiness Family Civil War"? Am I going to be emotionally pushed towards Outer Siberia?

So I realised that my fear, yes FEAR, of what "ifs" ,and "should have, could have, would haves" had me cowering into the shadows and left me feeling as if I were censoring myself. I loathe censorship, I loathe people who don't take action, I loathe having to bite my tongue! So how can I loathe all these things yet be all those things?

So with that I decided that tonight I would bite the bullet and as the Nike ad reads: JUST DO IT!!!

So I sat here for a good hour contemplating on whether I should use my "real" name and thought long and hard and came to the realisation that it would be wiser if I created a character called "Dishevelled Happiness" I could be her but I would also be ME at the same time. All of ME. The real ME and not worry about what I want to express and how I come across. I could vent my spleen to the world and not worry about upsetting the people around me.

Sort of hypocritical yet a necessity in a sense. I can be ME and the only "fake" thing about having and writing a blog would be the name I hide behind. Yes JUST the name!

So with that I want to scream out at the top of my lungs: "Hello Blog World! I'm Dishevelled Happiness! Wont you join me on My Magical Carpet Ride!"

DH

xoxo