Attack of the Lollipop Man! No Joke!

Now contrary to my predisposition to embellish and exaggerate stories which I get from my

Mother’s side, I will begin this by holding my hand on the Bile and swearing this as THE TRUTH THE WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT.

The day began like any other. I got up and popped on my trainers and began my run. Everything was going fine. I was listening to my tunes and toddling along in my own little world. Usually on my run I see one of the things that annoy me more than anything in the world. That, is a lollipop man/lady positioned on a set of traffic lights. It has long been a pet peeve of mine and something that I don’t understand. Well at a crossing by me there are two lollipop men positioned. Not one, but two! It’s ridiculous. All they do it press the button, walk into the middle of the road and wait. The traffic light is doing everything for them. There are hundreds of extremely dangerous roads near schools that I’ve seen throughout my life with no road supervision and then they are positioning some at a traffic light. A set of lights whose job it is to control the stop start of a vehicle. If anyone knows the reason for this I’d be happy to know it. It may just be me being ignorant. It’s not that I don’t care about the safety of children, but if children are walking to school unsupervised then that says to me they know the rules of the road, and how to use the traffic light system.

This one particular day I was running along, and decided to change my route and cross the road at a particular set of lights where one of these lollipop men were positioned. Now I don’t know what led to the following event occurring, but even half an hour after it I was still thinking “Did that just happen?”

I get to the crossing and I’m doing my little static jog waiting for the cars to roll pass. I noticed the lollipop man move to position himself next to me. To be honest I just assumed there were some kids behind me. Then he stepped forward a little and moved just so slightly in my way. This confused me. Anyway, I side stepped a little and began moving out, as I noticed the cars were clearing and I could get across. I heard a voice over my music say.

“Wait.”

I looked at him and thought; obviously he’s not talking to me. Looked back at the cars, and then heard again.

“Wait.”

It was then I looked around and it was just me and him! Oh my God, he was actually going to try and walk me across the road. He thought a 28 year old woman needed help to cross the road already being assisted by traffic lights. I wasn’t going to be dictated to by  a lollipop man on a power trip.  The road cleared and I thought, I’m off. As I stepped off the curb to continue over the road, I felt a massive tug on my hoody that pulled me back about 3 steps. I stood and stared at this guy, and even before I could begin with:

“What the hell are you doing?”

He started in on me! I was stood in the middle of a crossing being yelled at by a lollipop man. This hadn’t happened since I was in Primary School! I literally stood there in such shock.

“I knew you were going to run across the road.” He said. “We are here for your safety, not ours. If you go running across the road and get hit by a car it will be me who gets the blame, not you because you’ll be dead.”

He then pulled out a pad of paper while shouting at me and proceeded to ask me my Name, and what school I was in.

It was that question that shocked me back to reality. I’m thinking maybe it’s my height. I’ve mentioned it before, and I know that most secondary school pupils would tower over me. When you couple this with my podgy exterior which may resemble that of an adolescent girl who still carries around her puppy fat, I could almost say yeah, from a distance I could be mistaken as a school kid. He however was up close and personal, was he stupid?! He was seriously intimidating me as well, and I thought if I’m scared what the hell does this do to school kids.

I nearly said nothing and ran off, but I though I’m not having this guy speak to me like this. So I gave it back to him.

“Are you crazy!! You could have got me killed pulling me back like that. I’m 28 years old and am fully capable of crossing the road. How the hell could you get me confused with a kid?  If I ever see you grabbing a child the way you just grabbed me, I will report you to whoever it is that lollipop people work for. Now if you don’t mind I’ll just use the traffic lights to get across!”

To be fair I didn’t wait for a reply and just ran away. I mean I wanted to say something which I’m glad I did, but if  he’ll grab me by the scruff for just crossing the road, what would he do now I’ve shouted at him. That lollipop if a pretty handy weapon! My advice any short tubby people out there, just beware the wrath of the lollipop man!

A Smile From A Stranger.

I had been riding the tube home from work for over two months when I finally deciding to buck up the courage to talk to a man who I had seen sitting on the Central line platform at Liverpool Street. Without fail he would be there. Sometimes he would arrive later than me and I’d already be sat on this bench, and sometimes I’d arrive and sit next to him. It was never a purposeful thing in the beginning, it was just coincidence. I’d be sat reading my book, he’d be there. I noticed him but he never really noticed me.

It’s strange to say but the reason that I started remembering him, and noticing his absence was because of his demeanour, and his hat! He was a giant of a man in the muscular sense. He looked like a labourer of some sorts. He had huge arms, massive hands, and towered over everyone as he walked past. People would actually move out of his way as he walked along the platform to get to his seat. He had slumped shoulders kind of like every day was a tough day for him. He had a lined face, and was always dishevelled. He didn’t acknowledge anyone as he walked around, but I noticed people look at him. He reminded me of John Coffey from the Green Mile. He had that sort of conduct about him. His size seemed to be the first thing you would notice about him.

 Then the second thing was his hat. It was a beany cap, bright yellow with the black print smiley face on it. I remember walking past him and it made me smile, though I still don’t know why I noticed it anyway. I think I was having a bad a day and the littlest thing cheers me up. Plus seeing a huge beast of a man walking towards you with a little smiley on his head would make anyone smile I think.

They just seemed to contradict each other so much.

He always sat and just stared at the floor. Once time someone asked him for the paper next to him and he said nothing in response, just sat there, so the man took it anyway.  Not unusual really. I used to look at him out of the corner of my eye, and think I just wanna say hello. I don’t know why, but sometimes when someone looks so sad, or angry, I just want to speak to them because maybe a simple “hello” from a stranger could make a difference to them. Even if it is just me. I don’t know why one day I actually decided to speak to him. Maybe it was because the platform was deserted and it was just me and him so I finally decided to say four simple words. To roll the dice and see how they land. Those four little words were.

“I like your hat.”

It was out there, a couple of little words that didn’t really warrant a response, it was just a statement of fact. If he said anything that was OK. If he didn’t, Oh well, he doesn’t want to talk.

We sat in silence, so I kept my head in my book. I must have read a few sentences and I don’t know how much time passed, but I heard as soft as a child speaks.

“It was my brothers. Thank You.”

I didn’t know what to say. Should I ask about his brother? I was sure he wouldn’t say anything back. I didn’t know. I looked back at him and smiled, and he smiled back at me. Then I said “Bye” and got on my tube. And that was that. He watched me roll by as the train pulled off, and still he sat there with a smile on his face. For some reason though I felt good.

I see him every now and again when I use the tube, and now he smiles at me and I sit down next to him. We haven’t spoken since; maybe those two little sentences will be the only things we say to each other. I more than likely didn’t make much of an impact on his day, but then again maybe I did. All I know is for some reason now, whenever I see him, I get a little smile from a stranger. That’s not the worst thing that can happen in a day.

TUBE STRIKES LEAVE LONDONERS STRANDED! –Do they really though?

Does anyone else feel like there’s just a tiny bit of melodrama going on with the tube strikes at the minute? I don’t know it might just be me, maybe it’s just because it’s not had a massive effect on my commute.  I just feel like everyone is having a massive moan about it though. I’ve heard so many times already since Tuesday.

“You managed to get here then?” or “Good Luck getting home tonight.”

I mean you’d swear we were in the middle of World War 3 the way that people are talking about it; people are literally acting like they are “surviving” the tube strikes. I think good for them striking. Our trip to and from work is being inconvenienced for 48 hours. That’s it, 48 hours. Extra buses have been put on to help aid journeys, and we’ve been warned about it for weeks now that this was coming. So it’s not as if it’s been dropped on us out of the blue. We’ve had time to plan for it. Why not work from home, or take some holiday leave. Get on a Borris Bike, or get as close as you can by train or bus and then have a nice little walk, and enjoy the sights and sounds of London. There are so many job losses these days, and so many people unemployed with little or no hope of getting work, the fact people are complaining that it’s going to take longer to get to their job just seems ridiculous. The problem of getting to work for two days pales in comparison to not having a job to get to at all doesn’t it?

My point is that up to 1000 tube workers may not have jobs to go to over the next few months. When I was looking for work in December I was told by the job centre that for every 1 job  advertised there are 60 people applying for it. That’s a minimum. These people know that our unemployment statistics are still quite bad so they’re probably terrified for their future prospects. Yes unemployment is getting better, but it’s not great, and now we’re going to add 1000 more people to the list. This all in favour of replacing them with machines, and in so taking away more reason for human interaction in a city usually too busy to acknowledge one another as it is.

I personally think people are still definitely needed on the ticketing booths. There are constantly queues at the ticketing windows, so where has it come from that we don’t need them. If anything we need more at the major stations.  The ticketing machines are great if you live here, or are a regular visitor and you know how to use them, but what about people who are visiting from abroad, or people who don’t know London as well. I remember when I first moved here I was only ever buying tickets from the ticket booths or topping up my Oyster with them.  I had never been here so I didn’t have a clue. These people are needed there; the machines they are going to be fitting are definitely no substitute for talking to a person who can help you, and having face to face contact.

Politicians are always talking about investing money back into the city to make it a better place to live, and give a better quality of life for Londoners, but what about using some money to invest back into the people of London. Stop spending billions dicking around with bullshit stuff that no one really cares about and focus on the people of London who work their ass off every day to keep it running.

The Cardiff Half Marathon- Doing it for Week On the Street!

So holy crap! It is actually official! The money is paid and there’s no backing out!!!

 My Bezzie Nicola and I will be running the half marathon in Cardiff in October! It’s suffice to say that I’m crapping my pants-not to mention the fact that people have told me they’ve crapped their pants before while running the marathon! I am a novice runner! In fact I’m probably less than that so I don’t understand the pooping while running thing??If anyone can shed light on why during a run your body suddenly develops the urge for you need to, well, do that I’d be very pleased to hear it.

I get a text a few weeks ago from my good lady Nicola Harper. She wants to do a half marathon. Now it’s not like she just comes out and asks me to do it, no, no. The emotional blackmail that came before the question left little if no chance of me saying no to her. The length of the text took up half my evening just scrolling to the bottom. The point of it was that not only did our friendship rely on us making it over the finish line together, but she also touched on the fact that our friendship has had to span hundreds of miles since I left our home town Llanelli, so she never sees me. So all wrapped up in guilt, there was never a question, it was just a statement! “Let’s do a half marathon.” Little did she know, I had been thinking about this the last month or so and was planning a text ambush like that on her. Like I could say no to this girl anyway, even if I wasn’t into it! We’ve been through years of her saying yes to the majority of stuff I’ve ever wanted to do, no matter how much she knew better of it. Well that’s kind of the point of friendship I guess.

So we’re kick starting our health and fitness regime by giving ourselves a little 2014 challenge. Training began 3 weeks ago so we’re well and truly on the way. I’m not doing too badly. I mean I got this little app on my phone and you can see me most days running along East Dulwich, usually shouting at thin air, telling my virtual trainer he’s crazy! It’s something I’m chuffed with though, even now at this early stage when there’s a long way to go, I’m happy and I’m enjoying the challenge it’s going to bring. The feeling of achievement that we’ll feel when we cross that finish line is going to amazing! Not only for ourselves, but with the permission of Tom Shaw we will be raising money for his charity Week on The Street.

Tom stirred up a huge amount of media, and public support when he took to the streets of London sleeping rough for a week to raise awareness for Autism. Since he began his journey Tom has raised thousands of pounds, and is now helping local families who are in the painful process of discovering their child has autism. He is now dedicating his full time to raising awareness for children with autism. Seeing what this man has achieved in such a short space of time is seriously inspirational. He is now organising more extreme fundraising which includes 3 cycling challenges, one of which is the John o’ Groats to Land End cycling challenge, one of the most difficult cycling challenges to be taken on.

Unfortunately I couldn’t commit to any of these which was extremely gutting, as I promised Tom that I would definitely be involved in his charity work in 2014. This is why Nicola and I are so chuffed that he allowing us to help in another capacity by running the half marathon. As two self-confessed unfit birds this is going to be a personal challenge for both of us, so please watch this space and help support us. We want to help Tom as much as we can, so help us help him!  Anyone who would like to join in with us in more than welcome.

For more information of Tom’s Charity work.

www.weekonthestreet.co.uk

www.facebook.com/pages/Week-On-The-Street/1437636036463048

twitter.com/weekonthestreet

The Shorter Side of a Tube Ride

I have never really thought much about my height. I have always been short, though for a long time you couldn't tell me that. I once had an argument with my friend Chloe that we were the same height even though she’s a good few inches above me. To this day I think she’s had a growth spurt because I swear when we first met 7 years ago we were the same height. I can’t argue with fact though I guess.

I always thought I was roughly the same height as everyone, it’s because the majority of the people in my family are quite tall or at least average height. So I just assumed I hovered with them. My sisters and female cousins are all quite average in their height, but my male cousins. Shit the bed! They are all huge and tower over me. Something I noticed more at Christmas when we were all together, when I ended up face in a belly button. Its times like this I start thinking, yeah I'm quite short. Then I look to my Mum, who’s even shorter than me, and think yeah, we’re pretty short. Bless her tiny little size 4’s! Out of a family of trees we’re the two little shrubs!  But it’s cool, good things come in small packages and its lush being hugged by so many tall people!

I don’t have an issue with being short. Other people tend to comment more than I think about it. I get some banter from it, but nothing that would make me hate my height. I get the odd, “How’s the Weather down there?” , and people come down to my height and say “ Oh that’s what it looks like down here.” Classic huh! Some people sometimes use my little head as a leaning post for their elbows or drinks! This is fact! It’s like I said though, nothing had ever happened to make me hate being short. Except the one place where people dread stepping onto in the hours of peak time travel, the tube!

It’s one of the worst places you can be. You’re crammed into these tiny little carriages, pressed against one another. IT’s hot and all you can taste and feel is the breathe of the other people trying to get to wherever they need to go that’s making them endure this hell. You’re perspiring because you’re in too much of a rush to take off you’re jacket when you get into the underground, and your face is puffy and red. You’re looking around at a sea of heads, and outstretched arms trying not to hit into other travellers, enjoying the breeze that occasionally wafts through. Do you know what you can’t see though? You can’t see us little guys.

There is no hell like a tube ride for a short person. At peak times anyway. We look up at you desperately trying to gasp for some air. We can see the light through the joining shoulders, snaking our way around bodies as people simply try and stepped over us. For you guys, you have some sort of oxygen coming into your lungs, while the only thing we can breathe is the material of whatever you’ve decided to wear that day. Days of woolly cardigans or jumpers are the worst. That shit gets in your lungs! You turn you head from side to side to be crushed further by a man’s chest, or a woman’s boob, someone’s back or back pack even. The glasses I've lost, or the times I've had my nose crushed, been tucked under a sweaty armpit I cannot keep count of.

We have no counter attack from this though. No self-defence. We can go onto tip toes and try and meet you in the light, but we have to forfeit balance for this and risk falling everywhere. At least down in the dark material world you are wedged in enough to stay sturdy. The majority of the horizontal rails I can’t even reach, so on those beautiful days when you can move on the tube and it’s only slightly packed I always end up getting pushed away from the vertical ones I can reach and then struggle to reach the high ones. It’s always some tall guy as well that does it. They move you along so that they can get the rail, even though they can comfortably grab the high one, just to watch as you struggle like a kid on monkey bars swinging back and forth.  Don’t be greedy! Just give me the pole will you!!! You can grab the roof ones! I can’t! Be nice!

I’m not saying things are worse for short people in life. Just on the tube. So the next time you get on the tube and spot a shorty struggling for life just give them some breathing space. Don’t push your body directly into their face. Move aside from the central poles and hang onto the high bar. Let the little one through to have a go. It’s embarrassing having to struggle with the high bars. So whatever time you’re having, think about the short one next to you. No, not that one, look down. There they are!

Happy New Year One and All!

Well it’s that time of year again where I say to myself. It really is time to start doing some writing, pitch a few ideas, keep up with my blog, and maybe tackle that novel I’I've been working on since I was 15. Well, not the same one. I mean, it is the same one, but the ideas and premises have changed as I’ve grown up, and now it’s pretty different to how it started. You know how it is though. Everything kind of gets put on the back burner. That’s me all over. I’m an “I’ll get to it later” kind of girl. An “I just wanna relax for a bit” sort of person. Then before you know it your 15 episodes into Tru Blood, and your room-mates knocking on the door to ask why you haven’t been seen for two days!

Anyway, I ramble on. The thing is. I don’t write because I want loads of people to read it. I don’t write thinking I’ll get very far with it, or even that I want to any more. It’s just something personal that makes me happy. Therein lays my point. I think a lot of people in life are so bogged down and busy running around their  day to day week, doing the things that have to be done, that we ‘re all too tired to do the things we want. This is my New Years Resolution! To say yes to everything! Well not yes to everything, I’m not trying to be the “YES MAN!”. I think I’m just going to be more conscious of not letting my life go by, which I have a tendency to do. I’m going to stop complaining, and moaning, and just be a generally happier person. People who know me know that this is a difficult thing for me. I am King of the wingers, Mayer of the Misery, and Top Dog of the Depressives! But not any more kids!!

2013 was a pretty shit year for me, as it was for my family as whole I’d say. I had heart break, I lost someone I cared for very much, and some personal things that I need not bore anyone. So I spent the majority of last year crying, or sad, terrified, or anything other than happy. I stayed in A LOT. I withdrew into myself and looking back over 2013 I simply wasted my life. A terrible sin really when I knew someone who loved life so much but was taken very young. Even when I was smacked in the face with that I still just didn’t have it in me to move on and enjoy every second. There have been so many situations in my life where I’ve been dragged down, missed out, and threw away amazing opportunities because of being afraid. It’s sad that it’s taken me to get through some major hurdles of 2013 that now at 28 I’ve finally said I’ve had enough! 2014 is the year of taking risks, of saying yes to more things. Going to parties I wouldn't normally go to for fear of not knowing anyone there. Skydiving, because I haven’t done it before. Doing more for others, because if other people are happy because of something I'm doing then that’s going to make me happy. ( Rather selfish yes I know). Bungee jumping, because I haven’t done that before! Meeting new people. Going on more holidays, with the help of my credit card. Then paying off my debt because I wanna be a grown up. Pretty much try me, I'm gonna try and say yes to 90% of all things! That’s my attitude  right now!

Even while writing this, my best buddy asked me to do a half marathon and a 10K this year! I’ve said YES!! See, it’s time for yes people!

My point is. It’s easy to be too tired to go meet your mate at the pub, with this weather you want a duvet more than you want to go out and see someone, or do something for risk of being cold and wet. Everything feels like an effort. It’s all you see on Facebook really, and I'm the number one for that shit, but let’s have an emotional clear out! You don’t have to burn the candle at both ends; and have a nervous breakdown. I’m not going to be doing that. I’m just going to be more aware of what I'm doing with myself. Think outside the box for your New Year’s Resolution because the biggest one is to make sure you’re living your life to its fullest, and you’re enjoying every second because regretting the things you haven't  done is so much worse than regretting the things you have done.

Cancer We're Coming to Get You!!!!

So you wake up in bed on a Sunday morning, stretch lazily, and you think about what you’re going to do with your day. Do you visit the in-laws? Catch up with some friends? Maybe a little Sunday dinner, then spend the day how Sundays should be spent, being a little bit lazy. Well not The Beziere Beauty Belles!

This particular Sunday, was Race For Life! And I was well up for it, I know me and exercise? Who knew right??

A few weeks ago while out with lunch with our Beauty team in work, I agreed to join them in the race for life that they were taking part in. Cancer is a huge thing in my family. I’ve seen the struggle that it brings to lives, through the losses and survivors. I don’t know why it’s actually taken me this long to be a part of it actually, it’s something that having done it now, I’m really ashamed of.

The day had arrived and we got ourselves prepared and Pink’d up, the 6 of us were ready a raring to go. We joined hundreds of women and children to give a communal “up yours” to Cancer, and it felt awesome. It began rather gloomy though , as we made our way to Loughborough. We drove through fog, overcast and drizzle, a dreary contrast to the heat wave we’d been experiencing the last 14 days! Would we let this dampen our spirits? Hell no! We arrived at the run, attached our numbers, and took in the atmosphere of why we were there, and who we were there for.

We joined in a ten minute warm up on the field, with two fitness instructors taking us through our paces, leading the crowd in a series of stretches, star jumps, and squats. The echo of enthusiasm that ripped through the crowd was electric. We cheered, sang and clapped on cue together, we may have been excited for the cause or simply the fact that we had muscle bound ripped guys in lycra commanding us through the routine! Sorry Guys!

The warm up complete we stood in a minute of silence to remember those we had lost, the ones who had survived, and the mass effect this disease has on us all. The most amazing thing that I realised on this day was the positivity that surrounded everything and everyone. We couldn’t dwell on any sadness, just focus on the reason we were here and what taking part in this will achieve.

The music blasted from the speakers and we were off. The 5K began, and Cancer we were coming to get you. Armed with smiles and laughter, and some severe excitement from some in our little troop, we hop, skipped and jumped around the 5k course. Obviously stopping for a few cheeky candid moments along the way, the fun of getting around the 5K is what it’s all about. People dressed up posed happily with other runners, and chatted about their experiences like lifelong friends. A woman dressed in a onesie stopped to pose with me. She was 54 and had beaten Cancer herself, she was so inspirational. It was such an amazing thing to be part of.

Nearly an hour later, after many hills and dales, we’d done it. We crossed the finish line to rapturous applause from all the supporters. All that was left to do was collect our medals and a free pan au chocolate apparently!  That I didn’t understand, but hey, we weren’t complaining mind you!

The day meant so much to me. I ran for my Nanny Bett and Uncle Pad who we’ve lost in recent years. Looking around throughout the day I continually got choked seeing the signs of I run for…. You never can realise what an amazing cause this is and how it affects so many different lives. I can safely say that I will be a part of this every years now, I’m addicted. Next year we take on the 10k!