Josephine 'Panda' Youd

HAPPY (belated) 21ST BIRTHDAY JOSIE!!!

I cannot believe how young you are and how old I am. Honestly, the novelty of now being legally old enough to drink in the States has loooooong for me and here you are living it large, reminding me of how I'll always be just that little bit closer to zimmer frames and false teeth.

The unstoppable threesome in Budapest. How are we so fit?

Um yer. This happened.

You are indisputably one of the ordinary incredibles in my life. My second mother, dietitian, wannabe lesbian lover, future bridesmaid and fellow travel addict, we've been through more together in our first three years of higher education than any ill-equipped pair of teenagers should go through, yet come out the other side stronger than ever. We've got long distance friendship down. tackled crazy ex-flatmates like pros and survived more than our fair share of ridiculous dramas, which we should definitely write down and sell as a script to Channel 4. Through everything you've been there, my pillar of stability and sanity (well... my kind of sanity), always coaxing me out of my dark holes with  chocolate cheese cake and at times yanking me back to reality with a kind but stern word. You've supported me through various ridiculous hairstyles and questionable outfit choices (even trying some out yourself) as well as the tough stuff, and I know that this isn't a friendship that can be easily broken.

Christmas 2012, I can't even remember why you did this.

Britney LOVING LIFE.

I want to thank you for so many things. For always sticking by me, but not being afraid to tell me when I'm wrong. For being a relentless force of positivity, not only in my life but in the lives of all those who come across you. For your gorgeous smile and victory dances and no-filter silliness that we all love. For teaching me to be more confident about myself and my body. For your unpredictability and hilarious fan-girling that continuously reminds me about the importance about having passion for life. For holding my hand through the difficult times. For never giving up on me, even when I had given up on myself. And for everything that is to come, the good times and the bad, the adventures, the smiles, the tears and the inevitable 8am morning-breath-scented cuddles and bitching sessions about life.

That time in Bratislava that you burned yourself SO BADLY that you looked like a cross between a Teletubby and Cheryl Cole (and I'm referring to her ass tattoo)

Christmas 2013.

Our adventures are some I will never forget. Krakow, Auschwitz, Budapest, Vienna, Bratislava, Belgrade, Sarajevo, Mostar, Dubrovnik, Edinburgh, PRESTON and obviously London *queue Beyoncé - Schoolin' Life*. From eating bull's testicles to receiving life advice from my intoxicated bride-to-be-sister, we've experienced some pretty awesome things together in just a few years of friendship. It's funny, because whilst these three years have flown by, it also feels like I've known you my whole life. I think really do think our friendship is a beautiful thing, not only because it's so unbreakable and real, but also because we are two people who are so undeniably different in so many ways, yet we love each other completely and unconditionally. It's cheesy but true to say you make my life so much brighter and I couldn't be more grateful that your Dad spoke to me that first day in Moonraker and thoroughly embarrassed you trying to set us up as friends. Thanks for that one, Stephen.

That time we went to Mostar.

Sometimes we look alright too.

It's fair to say it's been an incredibly eventful three years and I wouldn't change it for the world, because everything we've been through has made us who we are today. I love you to the moon and back you beautiful human and I'm so excited for everything that's to come and the fact that we get to LIVE TOGETHER AGAIN next year and annoy the shit out of whoever ends up with the pleasure of our company. Here's to another three HUNDRED years of being inseparable (no matter how much ocean is between us), hangovers, heart-to-hearts and screaming Tay-Tay at the top of our lungs. Ich hab dich SO VIEL lieb.

My favourite pic of us.

Oh and just a little extra, to give people who haven't met you yet a little more of an idea of what they're in for. Heh heh heh.

Josh is HOW OLD?!

Someway, somehow, my ickle baby brother is turning EIGHTEEN today. Which is crazy. Especially because I categorically banned him from doing this, along with kissing girls and growing taller than me. It appears however, that there are some things older sisters don't have control over. Luckily though there are a few things I still have power to do and since it's your eighteenth, I feel as though it is only right for me to use that old favourite sister quality of publicly embarrassing you in front of all your friends by being super soppy. So happy birthday little bro and here's why you're an Ordinary Incredible.

Those infamous and widely envied Storey-photogenic qualities shining through.

When you were little you were - let's not kid ourselves here -  a bit of a monster and rather quick to anger, lash out and just generally cause havoc. You used to drive me and Rach INSANE with all your antics of throwing chairs down the stairs and getting lairy if we didn't put your favourite show on, but that didn't stop us jumping into older sister mode any time anyone fancied saying a bad word about you. Plus when you were really little, I can't deny you were quite cute with your famous 'funny face' you used to always pull and that Thunderbirds outfit that you refused to take off for pretty much the entirety of your childhood.

Look how sweet you were before you grew up and got all ugly.

All of that now though is such a distant memory, it's almost as if it was in another lifetime. I think there are many others that would agree that you have grown up into an almost entirely different person, so calm and collected now and with more common sense than possibly our entire family put together (though I'm not sure how difficult that is!). With a rather complicated upbringing and eclectic set of male role models you've managed to grow into your own person and really establish who you want to be, which is a difficult feat for anyone to accomplish, regardless of anything else. Plus you have that really inspiring drive and dedication for creativity unlike that of anyone else I've ever met. You always with a new project to show me, be it to do with your artistic or musical ventures, which make me really look forward to seeing what you're going to achieve in the future.

I'm not gonna lie, this picture still boggles me.

You never entirely lost that cheek though and certainly not your love for general banter, normally involving playing me and Rach off each other in the battle of, 'Whose the better older sister?' (which is me, by the way) and I love that we've all developed a similar, very British sense of humour of just taking the piss out of each other at any opportunity. I think it's great that I can boast that my little brother is, 'genuinely hilarious', even if I am the butt of your jokes half the time...

Aw, we scrub up OK don't we?

Basically Josh, thank-you for being amazing and I can truly say that I am so proud to be your older sister and not only that, to call you one of my best friends. I feel as though I've only scratched the surface on why you are an Ordinary Incredible (well, the ordinary bit might be debatable) but I'm a tad scared that I might inflate your head a little too much if I carry on any longer. So to even the score a little bit, here's fancy-pants to put you in your place:

A Love Letter

My dearest Body,
No love is perfect I suppose, I’d be lying if I suggested otherwise. On a bad day, I often obsess over the imperfections of our relationship. Skinny legs, scrawny arms and boobs that are so big they have their own gravitational pull. As I get dressed I suck it in, cover up and repress my true feelings under layers of men’s clothing as the school yard chants of ‘fat slut’ dance around my consciousness. I allow myself to be consumed by the voices that claim that I’m too ugly to ever be loved by anyone, even myself, wishing- no, praying to God to just fix these insecurities, so I would no longer have to be alone or ever inflict my hideous form on anyone else.

I want to apologise for those days I have been ashamed to take you out; those days when I look at you and wish for something else. We've been through so much together, our fates purposely intertwined from birth, to walk this earth for one reason or another. We've made it our mission to love limitlessly, to care for all, even those which others deem unworthy. Yet somehow, we've lost sight of what makes our love so special, that we too, are also worthy of this unconditional love. Over the years we've allowed the media to dictate the way our relationship should be and let society pick holes in our intimacy in a way our younger selves would have found unfathomable.

When I reevaluate our flaws through childlike eyes, a much more beautiful image begins to emerge and even those aspects of you I often scrutinise aren't without their charm – combine those legs and that ass with a pencil skirt and I can’t deny you look pretty fine, not forgetting the unquestionable usefulness of your ‘assets’ when fighting for a drink at the bar. You have always been there for me, through the scars of youthful misadventures to the piercings and tattoos of exploratory adulthood, carrying all with such grace and poise as if they've always belonged. Above all, those eyes, the window that connects me to you, will ever remain unrivalled and unchanged by the years. Together, we have become women, blossomed and developed in our gorgeous imperfections, forever here to support one another. That’s where your true beauty lies.

Love always, Your Soul

***

This is a piece I wrote for a competition to win a Pin-Up Girl photo shoot with a company called Shameless Photography. They announce the finalists in a few days, but winning isn't really my motive behind entering; I just loved the idea of having to write a love letter to my body. This isn't due to some self-indulgent, I-want-to-make-myself-feel-good motive, but because to I wanted to see if I could actually do it.

I've recently decided to dedicate the next six months or so of my life to building my character, working on my insecurities and becoming more of the person that I was created to be. Basically, I'm going to actively pursue and embrace my singledom, so I can concentrate my efforts into becoming the kind of person I'd want to date and not only that, but also the kind of person who could really bring out the best in my significant other. Just to clarify, I'm not completely consumed by the desire to get a boy/girlfriend. Actually it's the complete opposite. I'm terrified of the thought, due to a string of failed pursuits and being messed about over the past two years by people I would consider as good friends. I've allowed myself to repeatedly end up in situations where my self-esteem is beaten down, to the point where I found it difficult to love myself, let alone let anyone else in.

“Experience is a brutal teacher, but you learn. My god, do you learn.”

—	C. S. Lewis

In the last few months my life and my perspective of myself have been totally changed around, and time and time again I've had to confront the 'demons' I've essentially created for myself through countless stupid decisions I've made. I can't say I regret any of them, because I've learned a lot and did, amongst all the crap, have some good experiences too. If you've been reading this blog over the past few months you'll have noticed my slight obsession with exploring identity and what makes me, me, as I feel that I managed to lose a lot of myself on what I originally thought was a journey of self discovery. How does that saying go? 'You have to lose yourself to find yourself', or something along those lines? It appears I've become a walking cliché.

If you hadn't guessed, my most recent challenge has been to love myself. I've been working on my relationship with my soul/personality/essence/whatever you want to call it for some time now, but when I saw the advert for this competition, I was reminded of how there's more to me than just the immaterial. My body, although temporary, is still a vital part to my being and my relationship to it is something that needs some serious healing. I think there's a real importance in loving the skin you're in, feeling sexy and confident that there is nothing wrong with the body that you have been blessed with. There's a huge difference between being narcissistic or vain and having a healthy relationship with your body. Pretty isn't gained by hours at the gym or self-inflicted starvation. What makes you beautiful is how comfortable you are within yourself. So dress in what makes you feel good, respect yourself and give your body the love and care it deserves. Write yourself a love letter if you fancy, because you deserve it. 



At a recent art exhibition I attended I saw a piece that explored those common human traits deemed 'flaws' by society - black heads, acne, unwanted facial hair and the like. In the description next to her work the photographer had written 'there is no body more perfect than the one you are in right now'. 

Grandma Shepherd

Like everyone else I've been through both good and bad times, but one aspect of my life I certainly cannot complain about it my family. I'd write about them all on here if I could, but I have an absolutely huge family so that would take forever. So I'll have to be a bit choosy.

My Grandma's life story is one that I don't know much about. I know she grew up in Manchester (Moss Side to be exact) with three siblings and at one point decided she wanted to be a nun, but then my Grandad came along and ruined all that. Then they got married, had my two uncles and my mum in St Anne's before moving permanently to their house in Preston, in which my Grandma still lives in 47 years on. And to be honest I know little more than that, which is why me and my siblings bought her a book for Christmas called 'To me from you', a pretty journal with space for her to write her life story for us to read. I'm super excited to read it, as the older I get, the more I understand how much the older generation have to share with us and I have this funny feeling that Grandma has some absolute corkers to tell.

However, what I do know about you, Grandma, is what has happened in my life time. That you somehow helped your three children raise your THIRTEEN grandchildren, having us round for dinner every week and helping us all with homework and school art projects. You and Grandad were always the first port of call should one of us fall ill, picking us up from school and tucking us up in the spare double bed with a glass of fizzy water and plenty of Calpol. There was even the time when my sister fell over and got carpet burn on her forehead and was getting loads of sympathy, so I got all jealous and rubbed my head on the carpet so we'd be matching, and despite being reprimanded you still tucked me into the adjacent bed and played doctors and nurses with us. Then there's all the costumes and dresses and jumpers that you've made for us over the years, a skill which I am thrilled to have inherited, and the copious amounts of encouragement we've always received in any aspect of our lives that you've believed we could succeed in.

In the past few years you've had a difficult time as Grandad fell ill. As a team, you'd always been the rock of the family and even as Grandad's Alzheimer's took over,  you still managed to keep it together. We couldn't go round as much anymore, but still visited a lot and tried to help in whatever way we could. There's no 'right way' to deal with what happened to Grandad, but I know for a fact that although he couldn't say it to you at the time, he's now looking down, immensely proud of everything you did for him and for the rest of the family. The kind of strength it must have taken you to get through that time is one I will always aspire to have.

I'll never forget the time you turned up to my 21st birthday party dressed as the Queen of Hearts. Despite the difficult year, somehow you still managed to uphold the Shepherd tradition of being the life and soul of the party. I know Grandad would have been crying with laughter. Generally, the rule is that you're not supposed to outshine the birthday girl but I think I can let you off considering how amazing your costume was, seriously I was SO impressed.

There's so much more I could say. But basically Grandma, I think you're flipping awesome. I hope that one day, I can have the strength, integrity and gentle nature that you have. You're such an ordinary incredible but are so humble about it, I think it is far too often overlooked. So here's to you and everything you stand for. I love you millions!

Frank

Unfortunately, I haven't been able to track down Frank to ask if I can use his real name in this post. Well I say unfortunately, I suppose that's a good thing really.

I met Frank when I started working at a homeless shelter in South Kensington just a couple of months ago. My friend Josie had been going for a few weeks and could not stop talking about how amazing it was helping out there, just serving tea and coffee and getting to know the guys who would turn up. Frank was one of her favourites and one day, she came home with this heart rendering story to tell:

'So I was talking to one of the guys at the shelter today and he told me something I just didn't know how to respond to. His wife died a few years ago, which was the cause of his depression, losing his job and finally, his homelessness. Since then, he has been sleeping on her grave. He misses her so much and talks about her all the time. One night, he was attacked by a group of guys he knew whilst sleeping in the graveyard. They beat him and injected him with drugs. He doesn't know why they did it to this day... What am I supposed to say to that?'

Wow.

This story struck me so deeply, I just had to go along to the shelter; guys like Frank deserved to be cared for and loved. It completely shattered all my previous misconceptions about the homeless. He wasn't some imbecile who'd gambled or drank all his money away. Neither was he a gangster or into drugs or any of that nonsense. He was a regular guy who had to face an unfortunate tragedy in his life that rendered him entirely vulnerable to the cruelty of this world.

The next week, I woke up early on Friday morning to head to the tube station with Jose. Whilst at the shelter, I met so many inspiring people. From the lovely, to the little-bit-rough-around-the-edges, the drug addict to the stone cold sober. For some reason the thing that shocked me the most was that all these homeless guys and girls, well... they were just normal people. I don't really know what else I expected. I learned that those who drank away their lives weren't necessarily 'imbeciles' and getting into drugs wasn't 'nonsense'. The pain and heartache in that place is horrifying, but at the same time the love and compassion the guys have for one another is unbelievable.

This is where Frank comes in.

Frank's story is heart-breaking to say the least, but when I got to chatting to him, I learned about the man behind his agonising tale. He told me of how he used to be a personal shopper, which was ironic for a man who hated shopping, and he could even name drop a few celebrities that he'd been assigned to. He taught Josie and I and the other guys magic tricks and numbers puzzles, gave us life advice and encouraged us to stick at our uni courses. He reminded me of the stereotypical silly Uncle, who was always causing trouble at parties and is off winding up the kids rather than chatting with the adults. Upon being asked his life dream, he pondered and replied with smiling eyes, 'Well, I suppose that was to have a perfect wife, a faithful dog and a nice, little flat to live in. But I've had that dream now, so anything else is a bonus really.' One time he even told us the story of how he stopped taking medication for his depression and instead, decided to spend his time and money making other people smile. That, he said, was his medication.

One week, Frank came in and handed a few of us lucky ladies a chocolate bar each (ever the charmer, eh Frank?) An elderly couple had taken pity on him earlier in the week and handed him a bunch of chocolate bars and a giant bag of coppers. So Frank, with only £9 to his name, no home, no source of income, logically brings the chocolate to the shelter and gives it to us staff to say thank-you, whilst donating the money to the church because it would only 'weigh him down'. I don't know about you but it makes me feel guilty about having so much and sharing so little.

The next week, Josie comes home from the shelter (she sometimes does a different day to me) saying, 'Frank has the chance to get a job and a flat'.

It turns out that he has somehow managed to apply for his old job once again and knows a guy who can give him extra time on paying the deposit on a little place. However, the catch is that he has to get the job back to be able to pay for the flat. It's an all or nothing situation. Oh and the job people are only going to get back to him two days after he is supposed to have signed the contract for the flat. So to us, it's looking pretty bleak.

However Frank, pretty difficult to beat down, seems hopeful. 'If I turn up on Wednesday in a suit, you know I've got it', he beams.

Wednesday arrives. I don't think I've ever been more nervous in my entire life.

I can't work Wednesdays at the shelter because I have class on that day, so I'm relying on a text from Jose.

That message actually ends with 'now I've got to get my 27 suits dry cleaned!'

Ask anyone I saw that day and they will tell you I was grinning like a loon. I cried with happiness for the first time in years because a man who deserved everything, got that which so many of us take for granted.

I'd like to think this story speaks for itself. Frank is an Ordinary Incredible for so many reasons, but above all, because he never gave up. He never let life beat him. Two years on the streets, widowed, attacked, hungry and desperate and he came out on top. I'm so honoured to have shared just a few days of my life with this amazing man.

You're a Goddamn Treasure, Savannah

Savannah is a 17 year old girl with a Youtube channel full of ramblings, songs and stories about her life. SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD PEOPLE. If I consider myself a child still then I hope I don't offend her by saying that it's the youth that we should listen to. Her words aren't profound or revolutionary in the slightest. They're just the common sense that so many of us refuse to listen to. But all you have to do it look at children (now I mean in like the 0-10 age bracket, though unfortunately that bracket is getting smaller and smaller every year) to see that appearance doesn't matter. They'll run around like loons, mud, chocolate, pasta sauce smeared all over their clothes and faces, making friends with anyone who wants to join in with their game regardless of how long they spent doing their hair that morning. And do we love them any different? ER no. We think it's cute that they haven't a care in the world and tell them not to grow up so fast, life is cruel when you're an adult.

So why at a certain age does it become obligatory to care so much about the way you look? I understand there's the whole starting to feel sexually attracted to one another and stuff. But in my personal experience, any relationship I've had that's begun solely based on physical attraction has ended up fizzling out and going sour anyway. Your other half may be initially attracted to the seven inches of slap you've smeared on your face or that tight booby dress you're wearing, but you can't hide your 'real' self forever, physical or otherwise. Because if you like it or not, you are more than just a pretty face. Plus, imagine if you marry someone (I know, scary stuff) and you had to get up every morning to put make-up on before snuggling back down with your spouse, before he/she could see the horrors that lie beneath the shimmer and shine. Ridiculous isn't it?

Oh and I don't mean to leave out any macho types that might be reading this. Same applies to you. You might think that all your potential other halves care about is your muscular forearms and that you can flash the cash, and I won't deny that some do. A minority. A minority so small it's actually ridiculous that they get so much media attention. Most of us just want someone to love us for who we are, someone who can make us laugh and hold us in the bad times. Though thinking about it, isn't that all that anyone wants?

I'm not saying that there is anything wrong with wanting to look nice. Just so long as you're doing it for the right reasons. If you think that wearing a dress and heals and sparkly pink lipstick looks wonderful, then go nuts, just as long as you're doing it for yourself. I personally can't think of anything worse to inflict upon myself, but that doesn't mean that I try and force my dress code on my four other much girlier house mates (OK except that one time in my Identity Thief series but she was allowed to get her own back).

Savannah is an Ordinary Incredible because she has had the boldness to speak out for those who are too ashamed to do so; who comply just because society tells them so and are too afraid to just be themselves. She has no PA to deal with any backlash she might receive from sharing her views, no media empire to twist what she's said into something more easily digestible to those who just want to conform. This ordinary, yet beautiful girl had the guts to say what do many of us have shied away from and in her own creative style too. That's why she's incredible.

(If you click through to YouTube you can find the lyrics in the 'about' bit below the video)

Andrew Kaufman is a Superhero

All My Friends Are Superheroes is a book by Andrew Kaufman and is one of my two favourite books of all time. In this story and his other books, Andrew Kaufman brings to life real life issues in a such a quirky and playful way that you can't help but grin when reading them. I especially love All My Friends Are Superheroes as it shines a light on all those talents and personality traits that are often considered 'ordinary' and are therefore overlooked. I would recommend this book to anyone. You can borrow mine of course, but I'd encourage you to buy your own afterwards, so you can refer back to it if you ever feel a bit down about life. Here's the blurb:

All Tom's friends really are superheroes. Tom even married a superhero, the Perfectionist. But at their wedding the Perfectionist is hypnotized by her ex, Hypno, to believe that Tom is invisible. Nothing he does can make her see him...

Six months later the Perfectionist is sure that Tom has abandoned her, so she's moving to Vancouver. She'll use her superpowers to leave all the heartbreak behind. With no idea that Tom's beside her, she boards the plane. Tom has until they touch down to convince her he's there, or he loses her forever...

I'm going to take a guess that that all seems a little odd to anyone who hasn't read the book. I want to point out that this is, without a doubt, a book for grown ups and not just fun a children's story. The basic lesson behind the story is that Tom, seemingly the only non-superhero in existence, is about to lose the love of his life because he fails to see what is special about himself. As someone who is ordinary, what does he have to give someone who is so perfect? Alongside his friends the Spooner, the Ear and the Impossible Man, what does he really have to offer?

Without wanting to give away too much, he has a lot more to offer than he realises. Which is probably true for around about 99% of the population today. Although I think modesty is a great thing, in our society it has progressed to mean self deprecation, rather than just not being a show off. Far too often we hear people talking about what they can't do, what they suck at and wish weren't inherent aspects of their personalities. Since when did it become the norm to hate on yourself all the time? How are we supposed to provide and support those we love if we fail to see how we are good enough to do so?

I read this really good quote on tumblr recently...

'She deserves better, you say. I say: You’re a goddamn coward. What she deserves is an actual person she can connect with. She deserves you, or me or the entire world; she deserves someone achingly real and honest. She deserves a human being equally raw to pursue her and love her and, perhaps, destroy her emotionally, but she deserves all that as well. She doesn't deserve anyone’s sugary fairy tale. She deserves to float freely, with you, or me, or the world, into the very depths of her own psychosynthesis. She deserves to explore the meaning of the word "intimacy", with someone beside her that will care regardless. She fucking deserves all of it. So, pluck up the courage and be with her or leave her in peace but don’t you dare "sell" her your own"inadequacy" as a lie so that, again, you manage to comfort your conscience and eventually come to feel that you love her exactly because you’re letting her go. Because, darling, that’s bullshit. That’s only your own little self-created lie laying behind a much bigger lie; it’s not even properly concealed within itself, you fucking idiot.'

I don't know where this comes from, but I don't think it really matters. I think Kaufman would agree with it at least. What I'm trying to convey is that if all you focus on is your own inadequacies, what do you really expect to achieve in your life? So embrace yourself, with all your imperfections and mistakes. Because life is far too short to waste wishing you were someone else.

Kaufman belongs in my Ordinary Incredibles series for a variety of reasons. From what I can find about him online, he came from pretty humble origins. Attended an ordinary school, in the ordinary town of Wingham Ontario (with the tiny population of just under 3,000) and really made something of himself. Now a radio producer, film maker and writer, he is living proof that it doesn't matter where you come from, just where you go from there. And on a more personal level, he wrote a book that touched my heart so profoundly when I first read it four years ago, that I haven't stopped raving about it since. So thank-you Andrew Kaufman, for your colourful, creative and unique style of writing, and fantastic sense of humour. 

A toast, to Jake O'Grady

Yesterday when I decided to take up this blogging challenge, I made the decision to base it on all the ordinary, yet incredible people that had influenced my life. I set to work making a rough plan of what or who I would write about each day: friends, family members, celebrities, inspiring events and so on. I combed through my entire friends list on Facebook to make sure I was going to be writing to the very best of the best; those people who had been an inspiration to my life and through my own self-consciousness, I had not got round to thanking them for what they had done for me. Jake had made that pecking order.

Then later that evening I was served a huge dollop of perspective as I read the sad news that Jake had passed away whilst on his travels. From what I can gather, he was in Vietnam at the time. I know very little about what happened to him, except that some of his very last words to a friend were, 'I love you so much and FUCK IT, if I die, I die happy'. And to me that's all that matters, that such a beautiful human being would die happy with someone he loved by his side.

I don't want to sit here and write an obituary or eulogy about Jake. I didn't know him well enough to do it the justice he deserves. But neither do I intend to strike him off my list. So this is a toast, to the incredible man Jake O'Grady and although he isn't with us now to read it, I'd hope that he'd be looking down from the heavens and smiling, knowing that his love and kindness in the time that I did know him, was not overlooked.

***

I would like you to raise your metaphorical pint glass of your drink of preference (as anything smaller hardly seems an adequate tribute), to the legend that was Jake O'Grady.

I was lucky enough to work with you, Jake, for the eight month stint I did on the bar at Premier Inn, during my gap year in 2011/12. It was one of the three jobs I'd taken on in order to simultaneously gain some experience for my CV, whilst saving for my upcoming travels around the USA and South America. I was 19 at the time, had zero experience at working behind a bar or in a restaurant and to be perfectly honest, I kinda sucked at my job. I broke corks inside wine bottles and had to ask customers to open them, was always forgetting orders and was such a wuss I didn't dare try and carry more than two plates at once. However, it's fair to say that despite all this, I loved my time working at the hotel, mainly for the people and banter that every shift was bound to contain.

Jake, every time I checked the rota, yours was one of the names I would always look out for, hoping that we'd be sharing a shift, as I knew then I'd be guaranteed that infectious smile and newest crazy life story. I'd like to start by thanking you for taking a genuine interest in my life. You were always so curious, full of questions about my plans for my future and especially interested in my approaching adventure across the world. We often dreamed together about all the places we'd love to visit, how we'd rather travel our entire lives and never have to have a normal, boring job to tie us down. You raved about how one day, you'd be heading off to Australia and then the rest of the world, just as soon as you'd graduated from college and saved up enough money and I am so glad that you achieved that goal.

I'd also like to thank-you for always being there for me. Through the slip ups and silly mistakes (that, let's face it, were far too frequent), where you'd cover my back and help me to see where I'd gone wrong, to that one break down I had where I couldn't stop crying because life had just become a bit too much for me. I know you felt so awkward but that didn't stop you from hugging me and dithering about how to make me feel better. You were always such a gentle person, with a genuine concern for those you cared about. You were also the first person at work I came out to, which seems like a lifetime ago now. I will never forget your reaction of utter shock, '...so what, you're bi-sexual? Cool. I didn't expect that', when I attempted to casually drop it into conversation, which made all my nerves dissolve in the hilarity of the situation. After the laughter subsided you told me how brave and strong you thought I was and not to worry, nobody was going to judge me here.

And finally, I'll never forget the time before the Christmas work's do when I'd worked a shift and hurriedly got changed in the staff toilets before heading out to join the rest of the team. I'm pretty insecure at the best of times, let alone on my first night out with a group of people I'd only known a couple of months, all of whom I was younger than, after only having 20 minutes to get ready in the loo. I rushed out past the bar, slightly flustered and ready to down a couple of drinks to calm the nerves and all you had to say was, 'Wow Emily, you're beautiful. You should let your hair down more often.' I have never forgotten that moment and never will, as it gave me the confidence to go out that night and just enjoy myself.

There was never a dull moment with you Jake, whether you were blazing like the drama queen you were about a matter you felt particularly passionate about, or scheming with the guys in the kitchen about how to wind up other members of the bar staff. Whenever I think of you, I see you dancing like a loon with me at Rumes in Preston on my farewell night out, when we were the only two people on the dance floor and in that moment, had not a care in the world. That smile, that give-everything-you've-got-to-everything-you-do attitude and the love that just oozed out of every fibre of your being did not pass me by Mr. O'Grady. Although we haven't seen each other in some time, you've always remained close to my heart.

So thank-you Jake, for making my life just that little bit brighter. And for now, even in your death, teaching me something about really living life. It seems you really did manage to live every moment to the full, right up to the very end.

As a mutual friend shared in a status today, legends never really die. Sending so much love your way lovely, you'll never be forgotten.

Twenty fourteen. Come at me.

New Year. 2014. TWENTY FLIPPING FOURTEEN. Like... what? When did this even happen?

I could easily write one of those traditional 'new year, new me' posts, because lets face it, we all start the new year with high hopes that things are going to be better than last year. That we'll be richer, fitter, nicer, tougher, bolder, more honest, loving, thoughtful, kind, generous... etc etc etc etc. As lovely and encouraging as it is to read things like that at this time of year, I doubt that anyone would read it thinking, 'ooo this girl is really onto something here!', but rather 'how lovely, now what am I going to have for dinner?' and then forget you ever endured five minutes of your life reading my drivel. So let's see if I can come up with something a little more thought-provoking, eh?

Over the years, I've noticed that unfortunately, New Year's Eve is something that has become a bit of an anticlimax for most. You get absolutely trollied with your mates, then wait for midnight, anticipating some profound realignment of your soul or some great epiphany that will change your life and as the second hand ticks over midnight... absolutely NOTHING happens. No divine revelation or spiritual intervention, just another day with your mates like any other. So we eventually crawl home, tired or/and heavily intoxicated, slightly disappointed but knowing that really, it's a little bit silly to get down about it because this is what happens every year, right? Some of us will make a good go at our resolutions for the first week or so; some maybe even for a prolonged period of time. However eventually we begin to realise that going to the gym three times a week wasn't exactly that ground-breaking alteration in our lives that we were hoping for and life for the most part, just continues as before.

Year after year I've found myself thinking, 'There's got to be more to life than this'.

Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe you're crazy. Maybe we're crazy. Probably... But seriously, am I really the only one? I've spent my past few new year's parties either in tears over a row with a friend or surrounded by the people I love but feeling no more special than I do on any other day of the year. I've hugged, sobbed, drank and kissed my way through to the new year and all with the same outcome - a few pictures from a fun party and one or two anecdotal stories to tell.

Now I'm not knocking parties (although I'm not one for crowds myself) or expectation that things can be better. Especially not the latter. As a follower of Jesus, expecting things to get better is kinda a big deal for me. But we cannot just sit around expecting things to improve in our lives and do nothing about it, believer or otherwise. 'Well duh Emily, that's where New Year's Resolutions come in!',  hear you cry. Well clever clogs, whilst I believe that resolutions have their value and are not necessarily a bad thing (I have a couple myself), I'd like to suggest that perhaps they aren't actually the most productive thing for instigating the change we are longing for. Just bear with me.

For the first time in my memory, I had one of those profound moments that we all long for as the clock struck midnight. I actually spent New Year's Eve in a church, where I was involved in helping out/annoying the tech guys at an event called Shift. Throughout the night there had been lots of singing and praying and preaching about inciting hope and revival within our generation, all of which I thoroughly enjoyed and consider incredibly relevant for both New Year's Eve and the state that the world is currently in. However it wasn't the call for a revolution of love (which I LONG to see in our world) or the beautifully moving announcements of my peer's hopes and dreams for the year to come, that sent the resident butterflies in my stomach into a quiet frenzy, after so many months of slumber. After I'd hugged and kissed those around me, I was so overwhelmed I had to take a few minutes out for myself and hold back the tears. I was so happy I felt like my heart was going to explode, and I thought I'd better calm myself down before inflicting the doubtless lack of respect for other's personal space that I tend to inherit when I get a bit giddy.

To say it's been a difficult year would be an understatement. I've had all the usual heartbreaks, broken trust and misgivings that a usual year brings, along with some extra dollops of severe illness and self loathing, with a side dish of multiple hospital trips with people I love and topped off with the death of the most inspirational, Jesus-like human being I believe ever walked this earth, my Grandad. It's fair to say I've had more low points than high and to be perfectly honest there were points when I doubted I'd still be around by the time the new year arrived.

As I looked around the room, I realised the longest time I'd actually known someone was just over two months, and the majority much, much less than that. In fact, two of the guys, Nat and Simran, I'd met just the day before and already felt incredibly lucky to have shared the new year with them and to be able to call them 'friend'. I'd spent the majority of the night with two very good friends, Gordon and Joe, both of whom I love like brothers despite only knowing each other for a short time. I sat there, allowing my gaze to wander around all these amazing people, digesting everything that I had overcome in 2013. Because, despite everything that had happened, all the hurt and struggle and pain, I'd made it. I'd lived to see the new year and what's more, it was so worth it. Had I checked out early, had I given up, I'd never have met a single soul that I shared that church with. I'd have missed out on some serious love and amazing memories. And even if Gnarls Barkley is right, if I really am a little bit loopy, I really think that proves that there is more to life than we let ourselves see.

My profound moment wasn't life changing in that physical elements in my life have changed, like my bank balance or waistline, it was more a realisation that new year shouldn't be a time when we mull over everything we've messed up over the past 365 days and figure out how to correct the errors, but to celebrate everything that we've been through, both the good and bad. For a while I've been referring to last year as 'the worst year of my life', but perhaps a more apt name would be 'the toughest year of my life'. Even the difficult things teach us something, to value the good times more or how to deal with a future troubles. No matter what your background or belief, we all have one thing in common. We all made it. Yes we made mistakes and it wasn't all rainbows and butterflies, but we've come out on top because WE MADE IT.

So rather than just nit-picking the things you did wrong over the past 12 months in order to form some impressive-sounding resolutions to share with your friends, I would encourage you to look at everything you did right and continue to build on that. 2014 is our year, 2013 was our year and 2015 may well be our year too. From now on I intend to appreciate the good, the bad and the ugly for what they are - a vessel that has got me where I am today, and I won't even try to express in words just how grateful and thankful I am for that.

As part of my 'building on the good' promise to myself, for the next month I'll be taking part in the 'My 500 Words' Challenge. 500 words, every day, for a month. That's a LOT of rambling.

Banana Pinching and Prayer

This weekend I spent my time on my church's 'Student Weekend Away' or 'Church Camp' as I like to call it, because I'm super cool and it winds people up. We stayed at a place called Ashburnham, about a 15 minute drive from BATTLE STATION (it's just a train station really but I couldn't resist) and had a fun filled weekend full of teaching, laughs and lots of tasty food. As it was a Jesusy trip, we didn't do too much exploring, except for a lovely afternoon walk in the grounds, which consists of lots of beautiful woodland and a pretty church.

Some of the beauts I had the privilege of spending the weekend with.

Who'd have thought we'd find a church at a Christian retreat centre?! Clearly not Joe and Gordon...

Ashburnham is so removed the the madness of London and creates so much space for relaxing and soul-searching. Plus there was no signal and the WiFi didn't really work so we literally had no distractions from reality, which in itself was pretty liberating. It was everything I usually love about camping, with slightly more warmth (as we were inside) and properly cooked food (rather than my specialty of cold beans from a can). This also lead to us having to provide our own forms of entertainment that didn't involve the internet.

These consisted of but were not limited to...

• The most epic game of Chinese Snap that has ever been played. I kid you not, it was so epic that we all had to lie on the floor on our stomachs, shoulder to shoulder and lunge towards the pile of cards in the middle as they were at least an arms width away. And with all those people playing, guess what? I was STILL losing. *Not recommended for those with sharp finger nails or claustrophobia*

• Learning how to pinch a banana open. Sounds trivial but is actually one of my proudest achievements. Apparently it's how the monkey's do it AND you don't end up with a mushy end-of-banana. 

• And this, which for some reason was hilarious at the time. I think it might be a 'had to be there' moment but it'll make a few people giggle so I'll post it anyway.

Oh and I also learned that the key to making new friends is making an abundance of cookies and cakes to share.

Silliness aside, the weekend was a bit of a self discovery one for me. I mean, the past year and a bit has been that, but for some reason this weekend in particular really got some things straight for me. Whatever ever you believe - call it the Holy Spirit, call it simply gaining perspective - the overriding message on my heart the entire time was, 'no more hiding'. Which funnily enough ties into the Identity Thief series Josie and I have been writing recently. For me, the experiment taught me a lot about how I shouldn't be so obsessed with hiding my body from the world and this weekend I got to reflect on the aspects of myself, aside from my appearance, that I was insecure about or felt I should conceal.

Because really, why shouldn't your attitude to your personality be the same as to your body? You are who you are, warts and all, and no matter what people may lead you to believe nobody is all shiny and perfect. The only reason we are ashamed and compare ourselves to other people is because, like us, they are hiding all the stuff that makes them seem less perfect. There is no shame in being who you are, whether that be alcoholic, anorexic, believer, atheist, depressed, insecure and whatever else you can think of. Sometimes it can be really hard in today's 'liberal' society to be yourself, when there are so many expectations for everyone to be a certain way and act a certain way and dress a certain way. But why should we hide the negative aspects or those that others may deem negative, when it may be an inherent part of our being? Whether your secret makes who you are or hinders who you want to be, hiding it stops any use you may gain from it or help you may need to overcome it.

So I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't hide certain parts of my being any longer. And surprisingly, as soon as I opened up about things to people... absolutely nothing changed. Or at least not in the way I expected them to. Things that I had been terrified to admit because I assumed I would be looked down upon or treated like a crazy person for, were accepted and I felt an overwhelming peace and relief. It even seemed to have a kind of domino effect, in that because I'd opened up about things, others did too and I discovered that I am not so different to everyone else. 'It's not the emotions that you have, but the secrecy that will kill you', is a message that one of our student leaders felt that God had said to him, which holds so much truth because keeping something bottled up for so long causes you to create catastrophes in your head out of things that really aren't so bad.

Of course, you don't have to shout about your deepest darkest secrets to every Tom, Dick and Harry that will listen, but when you share things with those you trust, the hold they previously had on your soul just melts away. I realise I'm kinda reiterating the old, 'A problem shared is a problem halved' saying, but it really is true. I feel so much more free now I know I don't have to hide part of myself from those I love. For those who aren't so keen on the Bible, 'honesty is the best policy', or as it says in John 8:32, 'The truth will set you free'.

What will survive of us is love

For some reason my post 'Do what you want and fuck the rest' has taken off in popularity far above anything else I've ever written. I can only assume that in my rather miserable place of ranting, I've struck the same nerve with some people that had been struck in myself that same day.

'You know what? Fuck beauty contests. Life is one fucking beauty contest after another. School, then college, then work... Fuck that. And fuck the Air Force Academy. If I want to fly, I'll find a way to fly. You do what you love, and fuck the rest.' - Dwayne, Little Miss Sunshine

I actually re-watched Little Miss Sunshine yesterday - a movie I'd highly recommend to anyone and everyone - which is what spurred me to reread the post that had been inspired by it. Whilst I can't deny that I still agree with the vast majority of what I wrote, there is one particular thing that I'd like to clear up.

Love is everything to me. Ev-ry-thing. I love everyone I've ever met and never met and it's even listed as my religion on Facebook (so you know it's legit). I feel that last time, as I was a little upset due to one of those complicated, I-can't-be-bothered-explaining relationship-things, I belittled love. To me, love makes the world go round, it's in the air, in the whisper of the trees and it can definitely put you on top of the world. It's the most important thing in the whole entire universe and YET, I stand by what I said; it isn't all that you need.

In an ideal world, it would be. Everyone would love one another so fiercely that we wouldn't have to worry about the unequal distribution of the world's resources or the hurtful words that sparred between two friends. But as humans we are not ideal or perfect, so we get love wrong time and time again. We hurt those who mean the most to us and unfortunately, our love will probably always be inadequate for it to be 'all we need'.

Which is why I believe that we should chase what makes us truly happy. I do not, by any stretch of the imagination, encourage mindless hedonism or complete disregard and lack of respect for others. As I said last time, I agree with good ol' Albert that 'only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile', but we must be careful not to forget to look after ourselves in the process. Burning yourself out for others is, whilst admirable, pretty counterproductive in the long run, as you are no use to anybody completely exhausted, stressed out and hysterical because you just can't cope. So breathe, take a step back and always make some 'you' time. Whether that be a night out with the girls or some alone time knitting in your bedroom (surely that's not just me) you need time to be yourself, in order for you to be the best you can be for others. And honestly, don't they deserve your best?

What I'm trying to say is, don't disregard the importance of human love just because it isn't the only practical thing we need in life. Love the hell out of everyone you meet because, regardless of background, race, religious beliefs, sexuality, gender and anything else you can think of, as humans - sorry to bring High School Musical into this - we ARE all in this together whether we like it or not. Just don't ruin yourself in the process. You are far too precious and beautiful for that. You have to love yourself and your own life in order to show others how to do the same and that comes from pursuing your own personal well-being and happiness.

I'm also going to add this link to a friend's blog as I think it compliments, sums up and is probably an improvement on what I'm trying to say about what love means. Enjoy Bright Lights and Loneliness.

Life Lessons

I've been somewhat lacking in inspiration recently, until I came across this post whilst scrolling through my tumblr feed in the early hours of this morning. I wish I could say I wrote this, but unfortunately I didn't, I just felt that sharing it might inspire some other people as it did me.

For my goddaughter.

Here’s what I’ve learned. 

Do not be afraid to let yourself feel. If someone breaks your heart, break that locket they gave you, the one with “S+E” engraved on it. Take 2, no, take 5 plates out of the cabinet and smash them, then stomp on the fine china until it looks like there was a mini blizzard in your kitchen. Do not be afraid to scream at the people who do you wrong, or the ones who do you right. If you feel it, show it. Nothing good will come out of keeping the fire inside, trust me. You will end up burning yourself to the ground, and you are not a forest fire. You are a hurricane. 

Make art. Cover the walls with it, hang it on the fridge and bathroom mirror so everyone has to look at it. Don’t let anyone ever tell you something you created is not good enough, everything you do will be good enough. Make art in the dead of winter, that’s when the world will need it the most. Make art in the bloom of summer, that’s when you will feel the love radiating from your fingertips. Just please, remember to create.

Travel. Any chance you get to see the world, take it. Even if it’s just a trip to Walmart  go. Get in the car, get on the bike, ride the skateboard, walk, run, it doesn't matter how you get there, just go. There is a deep rooted need in human beings to adventure. We are all born with a hole in our soul, sit still, ignore the beating of your heart and the sounds of your insides. Can you feel it, that hole? Good. Now let me tell you something about that hole, no other human can fill that hole, contrary to popular belief. No piece of clothing or cellphone will fill it. The only thing that will ever, ever fill that empty space is the unknown. So, get out there kid, see this beautiful world and all its forgotten nooks and crannies. You will never regret it, this I promise you.

Don’t ever think that you need another person to complete you. I can’t even begin to count the number of nights I wasted telling myself that all I needed was a lover, a shoulder to cry on, in order to be happy. The belief that we all have a “soul mate” is bullshit. It has taken me 18 years to realize that I have been my own soul mate all along, just as you are your own. So spend time with yourself, you’ll find she’s much more beautiful than you ever could have imagined. Take time to just be. Don’t always feel like you have to be doing something, sometimes the healthiest thing in the world is to let yourself go. 

Be kind. Be kind. Be kind. If there is one thing I can teach you it is this. Don’t let other people’s bitterness attach to you, like some sort of parasite. Always, always, smile at strangers. Hand out kind words like candy on Halloween. You will never be able to know what others are going through, remember that. 

Read. I would never be the person I am today if I hadn't fallen in love with books. On The Road taught me more about myself than any class ever did. Bukowski was the only person I had during some long, dark nights. Plath held my hand as I struggled with urges to end everything, and talked me back from my ledge. Looking for Alaska was like looking into my own soul and reading the small print. If anyone ever makes fun of you for reading, just wink, and kindly say “fuck you”, and turn the goddamn page.

School is not, nor will it ever be, the most important thing in your life. Do you know what the most important thing is? Keeping a hold of who you are. You are going to fail a test, I promise. But you are not going to fail life. When teachers hand you back tests with “F” sprawled in red ink, look them in the eyes, and say “Thank you very much.” Hold your head high when you don’t remember what the vocab means. Don’t let them get into your head, keep your true self guarded. You will already be smarter than them all if you do this.

If anyone ever makes you think you can’t do something because you’re a girl, do it. Ride a chopper, blow past all those assholes who laughed when you tried to talk to them about oil coolers and brake rotors. Get tattooed with portraits of Waylon, Johnny and Merle. Spit in the dirt then rub it under your eyes to show them all this life is a battle and you’re not here to fuck around. Run like a wild horse, howl like a wolf, fight like a lion. You’re going to meet so many boring people in this life, write them off. One day you’ll find your people. In the desert, on the highways, behind the tattoo shops, between graffiti filled walls. Oh, you’ll find them and you’ll know. 

Hit this world like the fiercest tornado but be gentle with the details. 

And carpe the hell out of your diems.

'Do what you love and fuck the rest'

I know I don't usually swear, but that quote didn't seem half as powerful when censored.

This morning I was on one of many trains I've had to catch in the past few weeks. Trains are probably my favourite mode of transport; for some reason I can really let my mind wander when staring out of the window watching the countryside whizz by. Sometimes I think about nothing in particular, doodle dream (my name for somewhere between a lucid dream and a daydream) and perhaps consider what I'm going to have for tea. Mostly though, I let my thoughts meander all over the place, tangling and untangling and creating pretty patterns inside my head until I can suss out what the hell is going on.

Today was one of the latter.

As you may have guessed from my posts over the last six months or so, I haven't been at my best. I've been pretty down for various reasons but it was only this morning that it really hit home that I can't carry on like this.

'Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile' - Albert Einstein

Now I am no advocate for inherent, thoughtless selfishness. In fact due to some intense Christian upbringing it's been drilled into my skull for my entire life to be as selfless as possible. But I've finally realised that although good old Albert was right, if no one EVER put themselves first the world would be a considerably more miserable place. Plus the quote doesn't go, 'Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile, even at the expense of neglecting yourself'.

These thoughts were sparked by a conversation that I had with a good friend not long ago, who was struggling to balance his time between everything he felt he had to do and was consequently not able to do what he wanted to do. When he was offloading to me, the comparison to my former self was uncanny. Never stopping, trying to please everybody, without pausing to consider what I really wanted. Seeing the situation as an outsider really made me reflect on my own priorities. 

Whilst I've slowed down a lot now, I'm still very much in the 'trying to keep everyone else happy' zone. And guess where I am? On the outside of the happy zone, running around the edges trying push people back if they begin to slide a little, totally exhausting myself and letting down the people I care about the most. 

The truth is, the people you care about the most are the ones that probably care about you the most. Meaning when they see you running around the happy circle like a madman, you're never going to be able to make them happy. And why? Because they just want YOU to be happy.

“The most important thing is to enjoy your life—to be happy—it's all that matters' - Audrey Hepburn 

It can be difficult accepting that you can't be responsible for how everyone else feels. However, there is 0 doubt that you are responsible for you. I've learned that, despite how much I'd like it to be true, you can't rely on other people to make you happy. It isn't really fair on either party. To be happy deep down, like truly happy, you have to do what you love. Sometimes you're going to hurt people and let them down, but you know what? THAT'S OK. If life was just peachy all the time we'd never appreciate the good stuff.

Which is why I'm finding myself disagreeing with Paul, George, John and Ringo. Love ISN'T all you need. Some people are content in their solitude. Love just makes the ride a little sweeter. All you really need is happiness. I don't intend to waste anymore of my life on things that make me unhappy. Chase what you want, do what you love and fuck the rest.

Follow up post: What will survive of us is love