Posts Tagged christmas
This post comes post a large unjustified identity crisis and a great deal of panic at the Bad Robbers who were not at the door (eventually proven by Brave Boy who unlocked the door) so if it is a bit discombobulated and confused please write to my cpn at
CPN name of choice
Mental illness aid land
and ask for an increase in my don’t-bo-so-paranoid pills and the don’t-panic-about-non-existent-Bad-Robbers medication.
Thank you. (whenever I write ‘thank you’ i think back to my prior self who thought thank you was one word and feel smug due to my improved literacy skills, I aim that one day the same will happen with my use of commas..and possible my ability to deviate from the topic of socks.)
Today, I purchased a pair of Easter themed socks…
They are grey and pink and have easter eggs on them (which could also be ovals with spots and stripes in, but who am I to nit pick drawings?)
Anyway – the bottom line is that these were seasonal Easter socks, not just your run of the mill, every day socks.
I promise that this post have a point and I shall get there, but (in the style of ‘Miranda’) bear with, bear with!
This Christmas I purchased for myself and others, and in turn received, a large amount of Festive Christmas Socks…
Mine had slightly psychotic looking Penguins with Santa hats and a candy cane on them. (and trust me, they really did look Psychotic, I should know).
I also have a pair of Birthday socks…
And I so WISH they were copies of that image, but I am not so lucky…mine have purple presents and cakes on. Be it not for the cakes, they could have been mistaken for Christmas socks, especially as my birthday is in December.
Lastly, I have Valentines socks…
I am proud of my sock collection. I mostly spend my days in dresses, as the Eating Disorder complain less loudly when I am buried in fabrics than held tightly by jeans..and thus my feet are often covered by tights. I do not let that small fact stop my sock enthusiams, no! I wear socks over my tights and if I do venture Outside Into The Scary I hide them with my big clomping DM’s.
Today as I was placing my Easter Egg socks into my shopping trolley and eyeing up the pjamas I do not need and could not afford I realised how much had changed….
I actually used to hate seasonal socks. With a passion.
I know, I was so wrong!
I thought it was a waste. I thought that people would only wear those socks once a year and it also made them appear overly happy people who would happily suck up to a materialistic, consumerist world view.
Yes, I was a teenager at the time. These days, now I am OLD and approaching the mid-twenties I realize I LIKE being sock-happy and I happily admit I am somewhat materialistic-in as much that I buy seasonal socks, creame eggs when they are at till points and any biscuits or food advertised in the breaks between the tense bits of CSI-and consumerist because I like all the above and spend money.
But, before, I was a bit scared of breaking my own sock rules…and so many other rules. Rules like…’I can not eat until 4pm’ ‘I can not stop washing my hands for 35 minuites on my phone timer’ ‘I must get 100%, A’s, Firsts or U’s, 0%, fails and nothing in between’ ‘I can not open a door’ ‘I can not eat chocolate without the mother of all binge purge sessions’ ‘I cannot think any nice things about myself’.
I do not know what came first, relaxing my sock type rules or the bigger scary ones – but what I do know is that I have made really progress, and I was able to identify that fact while sock shopping in Tesco. It may sound odd but I used to fear any positive progress, I wanted to be the most depressed, the most eating disordered, the most scarred, the most borderline, the most ill…and when I realized that would equate to the most dead I tried for that too.
I do not think like that any longer, or not often.
I will happily wear Christmas scary penguin socks in the summer…and while things to do with my illness are still very prominent in my life I do not want to be the ‘most’ or ‘worst’..or, perhaps the ‘best most worst’. My mental health is not a competition.
I dare whom ever reads this to buy some Easter socks and wear them in October, when there are no real exciting events..only the terrifying run up to fireworks night, which shall never be saluted with sock desgins as bangs and fire are very terrifying things.
Now, in homage to the humble sock I intend to inundate any readers with countless socky images..
WORD FACT: I also recall the time when I accepted the fact a ‘drawer’ was drawer not jsut plain draw…such a confusing word day, but I learnt it.
I am now googling sock cakes further to see if these are things you can buy, or a deft example of how useful origami really is in modern life. (and proving to my younger self that materialistic tendencies and consumerism is okay if it ends in owning such an item…)
It seems to be mostly folding…and aimed as presents for young babies..bit I prefer the wedding cake idea..I think the boy would like something edible though, so maybe a mix of the two.
I am constantly surprised at the amount of words I am happily devoting to the subject of socks..
and, of course..I can not finish this post with out adding an image of sock animals, can I?
I need an I love socks badge or something. Some people conquer elements of mental illness and find a higer power to believe in…I find socks.
I am not entirely sure what possess people to make these videos, but, until they stop I say keep watching them, and laughing…
Funnily enough, after finding the link on that site ^ I took myself off to youtube to search more. (I just do not have a ‘stop’ button it seems). Unfortunately I couldn’t really find another gem worthy of the first one..
Talking of things I found online today it seems that using normal bodies to model clothes just is not good enough…H&M confess to using digital bodies to model clothing on their webstore..
This saddens me because it sends out yet another message that your average Joe/joaana/emma/tine/catherine are Not Good Enough. Our bodies and our hang ups are too great so computer generated ‘ideals’ take the place..how can they expect to have people respecting their brand if they conveny the message that normalacy is not ‘good enough’. It is sad. I thought the media were finally turning a corner..but, no.
This is a topic I have a lot of views about and I am currently attempting to write another post about eating disorders, or, really – my eating disorder. It will come, I am just trying to piece all the bits together in my head first…it is pretty scaring to launch forth into the net-o-sphere and write about something so personal, so secret, about a disease that has been dominating my life for a decade. But I also think it is important that is much is said as possible.
I can’t quite believe it is the 23rd of December already. Only one more morning of Advent joy – I so love my mini – chocolate with my tea & fag. I really think it should become a year round event, I’d be much less of a formiddable cow in the mornings if this was so. Poor, long suffering Boyfriend actually admitted to getting ready for work with the lights of, so scared is he of encountering my sleepy wrath.
Talking of the upcoming festivities, watching ‘Shrek’ tonight got my in the Christmas mood but I also realized I am going to spend tomorrow covered in sellotape with bits of ribbon dangling off both ears trying to make my presents look, well, presentable. Generally I use far too much sellotape and well chosen gifts turn into Fort Knox.
My sleeping tablet is taking affect so I shall cease this post before the drug kicks in fully and my typing gognjcgf;dst to dhityuxZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
I’ll try to update over Christmas, but in case I do not, I wish you all a Merry Fucking Christmas.
My brother says the funniest things.
Some years ago, when I was 16 and Samuel was 17 we were showing him around a perspective residential college, a residential further education college for students with special needs.
I was a sensitive teenager and pretty shy and socially awkward. I thought I looked cool and less of a socially terrified freak because that morning I had inserted an over-sized safety pin into my ear. By the time we reached the college my anxieties and my ear had been festering in the back of a car for four and a half hours. My ear was bright red and has ballooned to double it’s size. The very kind carers who were showing us around obviously noticed and, I swear, smirked as I removed the offending pin. In short, the already thought I was a dick and I really did not require any input from my brother dearest, but, as per usual he was only too eager to oblige.
We were walking along a corridor and my brother was being asked about his intrests, friends and family.
Brother; Yes, I like music and dancing and this here is my mum and my dad, my Dad is 49 and my mum is 47 and then there was this one time, at band camp blahblahblahblahblah
(carers make appropriate noises in gaps in his conversation)
Brother continues ‘ANNNNNNNNNND this here is my youngest sister, she is already 16 and she is a VIRGIN’
(carers look shocked and amused)
Me ‘…………………..’ (totally and utterly mortified)
‘…………..VEGAN!!! He means vegan!! I am not a virgin!! I mean, I am, I mean..no..I am a vegan, I do not eat animals..or, no…but virgin, but..sex..but but but
(pass me a goddamn spade!!!!!!!!)
Every one found this highly amusing and continues to bring it up to this day. I swear that it is some of the reason why I now happily tuck into bacon and slurp at milk.
Sometimes, however, my brother is just plain funny – although it doesn’t always registrar with him.
This evening is a good example. My Mum gave me a christmas card which had a picture of a dressed up punk dog in it with the words ‘Christmas is bollocks’ emblazoned across the front in pink and yellow, Sex-pistols style…
I laughed out loud.
Brother wanted to see.
Brother took card, looked at it and chuckled loudly.
As with everything he decided to let our terrier in on the joke.
He bent to our dog and showed him the ‘bollocks’ card exclaiming loudly;
‘The dog thinks it it nuts!!!’
(sorry about the crappy camera quality)