Introduction....to me.

So having never “blogged” before I don’t really know what you want from me. To start I thought I’d introduce myself and verbalise a few random thoughts of mine and hopefully they with present themselves as coherent reading.

Firstly I have a daughter who is 21 months old (and can I just say now at my age I’m glad we stop aging people in months after “24 months”. Because saying I’m “301 months old” quite frankly would make me want to shove my head in the oven). I have to apologise now for anyone reading this expecting to read about anything other than my life. On the whole it’s rather boring, so don’t come to me trying to claim the last 5 minutes of your life back after reading it-because you have been warned.

I am a single mum. Or as the government prefer to specify, a “lone parent”. This terminology baffles me if I’m quite honest. I feel like there is a sympathy vote attached to it. Ironically, in my opinion, being married was where I needed the sympathy. But anyway, I am a single mum and it’s fairly immense. It’s a job driven my overwhelming, unconditional and consuming love. It has to be, because if I was working with the general public and within the space of 30 minutes a consumer of my service had screamed at me, kicked me in the eye and demanded I cleaned up their faeces I’d be incarcerated.

But I embrace my role as waitress, cook, cleaner, Santa, punch bag and sworn enemy with my whole being for my daughter. As quite frankly she is the most miraculous, marvellous individual and my love for such a creature is uncontrollable. (It’s almost a touch daunting!)

I am 25 (or 301 months) and turned such a month ago. I always dreaded turning 25. For most it’s 30: but not me. At 25 you officially have to tick the 25-30yrs box on surveys etc (I’d like to apologise to the “Next” corporation for lying and ticking 18-24 on your last catalogue survey). You are no longer in your early twenties. And the chances of reaching a Diamond wedding anniversary have reduced just that little bit more. Personally I can’t wait to reach 30. I can STILL tick a box as if I were 25, I will be back in the early part of a decade and it’s socially acceptable to piss and moan about your birthday from this point until you die. Win win!

And finally I live in London. There’s not a lot else to say about geography. It’s the capital of England with a population of 7,754,000, approximately 7 of these residents have manners, and everyone is obsessed with the Metro. For those who haven’t been on the London Underground or are unfamiliar with the Metro: it’s a free paper distributed in stations/on trains. 7:30am in any station is perilous when every commuter in the capital is grappling for the holy grail of tube literature. Come 11:30 when commuters are safely in their offices wishing the train that had gotten them there had actually hit them: it’s Metro graveyard. However its still a risk to try and obtain said paper. (It’s where a distinct lack of manners comes in handy). Tip: if ever caught in this situation, if you spot a deject Metro, grab it. DO NOT attempt etiquette by asking the nearest person seated “are you reading that?” They will lie, clutch the sorry paper and pretend to flick through it: even though it is blatantly obvious that this cretin has never so much as read the back of a sodding cereal box. Saying that…I’m fairly sure I’ve played this part too. Swings and roundabouts eh?!

And that’s it. My introduction. (And I wrote my largest paragraph about the bloody Metro…) I’ll try very hard to be more interesting next time.