The stars look very different today

Since last I wrote I can’t help feeling that the world has shifted slightly – that somehow it is different than it was before.

Like many people of my age and musical persuasion I spent a happy chunk of my early twenties exploring the David Bowie back catalogue and in the years that have followed I’ve returned to some of the treasures I discovered from time to time. That’s the extent of my David Bowie story – which is really just to say that his music found its way into the corners of my soul and stayed there with all the rest of the music I’ve taken to my heart.

Of course there’s no reason that what WeeGee has to say about Bowie’s passing matters, save I suppose that it matters to WeeGee because, as far as anything goes, music matters.

If my blog has only one consistent theme it’s that music matters. Music is about hope, and despair, and belonging, and meaning, and happiness, and grief. Music is about life and death and everything in between. It’s what keeps my chin up and helps me make sense of the things that hurt. David Bowie’s music was, and will remain, part of that.

The stars look very different today, no less beautiful, but different nevertheless. Perhaps there’s another one up there tonight, shining just a little brighter than the rest…..

Farewell Starman. Over and out.

 

Hello. It’s WeeGee

It’s been far too long since my last post for me to begin with my usual ‘since last I wrote’ update. I thought about looking back over 2015 and writing some kind of ‘year in review’ piece, but in the end I decided that it all boiled down to pretty much the same thing: there has been life and some bits have been better than the rest. If that sounds a little pessimistic, it really isn’t intended to: when all’s been said and done, it’s only the better bits that count anyway.

Hello, by the way and happy new year (I realise now that would have made for a better beginning than the rambling paragraph I decided to go with. What can I say? You live. You learn). Welcome to the 2016 edition of How do you eat an elephant? I hope you’re all fine and dandy and filled full of the optimism and hope that a Brand New Year usually brings with it?

You may or may not be pleased to learn that I’m hoping to fit in a lot more blogging in 2016 but, at this stage and for the avoidance of any doubt whatsoever I need to make it clear that I have NOT made it a new year’s resolution. I’m not well known for finishing things at the best of times and the chances of me saying I’ll do something on the 1st January and still giving a flying fuck three days later, let alone a WHOLE year later are slim to say the least. The fact that it is January and I am (sorta) promising to do more of something in the coming year does NOT mean I’ve gone and made a new year’s resolution. Okay, so I’m glad we’ve got that cleared up…..

I may DEFINITELY NOT have made any new year’s resolutions but I am, nevertheless, pretty optimistic about the year to come. I quite like being at this end of the year looking forward before any of the time has run out. It feels shiny and new and there are endless possibilities. For example, winning the Booker prize for my first (as yet unwritten) novel only ever feels possible in the first few days of January – of each new year. I expect it will be ever thus, but I’m glad that the possibility remains, and indeed returns, no matter how many times the world has turned beneath my feet.

I head into 2016 in better shape than I headed into 2015, of that I am sure. I’m also sure that I headed into 2015 in better shape than I headed into 2014 so I’m marking the past few years down as a victory for progress. I’m still getting used to living with myself a little more, and a little better every day. The ebbs and flows of my brain don’t engulf me the way they once did – I’m safer in my own skin somehow. I catch myself when I start to fall and make running repairs as I go. Of course there are still grey days, and obstacles, and challenges and heartache. I know that these are things that will never be far from my side; I know that knowing is a large part of the battle fought.

Anyway. I just stopped by to share what’s in my head today. Now you know and I’ve achieved what I set out to. There is news – of course there’s news, there’s always news. I’ll save that for another day though and leave you instead with a song of old just for the sake of a song of old:

Love you all lots like Jelly tots,

With smiles, or hugs, or hope or whatever else you need, WeeGee xoxo

If I could talk I’d tell you 

Since last I wrote it’s all been coming up WeeGee. I love the way that happens – you know, the way that even though it all seems arid and bare, green shoots manage to appear and suddenly, it all feels okay again. Life shuffles along, things get better, hope is important………

Last month was hard. It was hard on my brain but it was way harder on my heart. So often I’m told that my ‘problems’ live in my head but you know, the more the more I think about it and the more I feel it, the more I think that really the problem has more to do with my heart than anything else. Every time September comes around the thing that I have to deal with is a broken heart, not a broken head.

I’ve thought long and hard about whether I have any words for the heartbreak that September brought. I don’t. Not because the pain doesn’t deserve words, but because none of the words are good enough and because I can’t bring myself to say them and because somehow, even after all this time, I just can’t. If I could talk I’d tell you. But I can’t.

Of course, all of that matters because the things you don’t say matter even more than the things you do say. Fine. I’m going to leave it at that. There are things that I don’t, or won’t (or can’t) say out loud. Those are the most important things of all and they become no less important if I stay quiet.

I don’t have to shout about it for it to be important. The opposite of shame is NOT pride. It still matters if the whole world doesn’t know about it. Most of my heartbreak is quiet and introverted and none of any other fucker’s business. Still. My heartbreak, or the pain in my heart, or the pain in my head – adds up to an illness, in the same way that any other illness does.

I write about it because it makes me feel better, and because it allows me to connect. I don’t write about it because I want to be a spokesperson, or an ambassador or because I think that my experience of ill mental health ought to serve as anything other than one girl writing her life, if anyone cares to read it.

Here’s the thing, at least as I see it. Sometimes it’s hard, and sometimes I love it. I feel responsible for the life I have, to make the most I can of it. But sometimes I can barely find my way through it. I want to survive and I want to do it quietly. I want it to be okay to feel depressed or a little manic, or separated from the world. I want to feel okay but I want to know that my place in the world is the same if I don’t feel okay.

I didn’t choose poor mental health.

I didn’t choose depression. I didn’t choose hypomania. I didn’t choose an eating disorder. I didn’t choose any of the things I got, but I got them. And I live with them.

If I could talk I’d tell you all about the life that I’ve had. But I can’t.

I’m not ready to talk yet….

Meanwhile in other news there really is nothing I can add. Nothing else to report save that I love you all lots, like jelly tots

WeeGee xoxoxo

Hiding. It ain’t all bad…..

Here we go again then, eh? September’s over and done with for another year and I’m still here, putting one foot in front of the other, managing to survive and wondering how I keep on managing to pull it off……

Last month was all about going easy on myself, and, to a certain extent, letting myself get away with things that I wouldn’t otherwise let myself get away with. But that was last month – this month is all about taking hold of the boot straps and pulling myself back up as best as I can.

I’m still feeling remarkably short of time mostly, I think, because my brain is busy. Generally speaking, I prefer a busy brain. I have a fear of what I have come to know as ‘spare brain’ because when my thoughts aren’t gainfully occupied they tend to wander off in dark directions. This, I think, is why I’m at my happiest when I’ve got lots of different projects on the go.

At the same time, every once in a while I find my brain getting a little too busy what with this project and that project and the other project and A MILLION AND ONE IDEAS and a couple of obsessions thrown into the bargain. Looking at it with my sensible head on, I think I have a tendency to over compensate during ‘difficult’ times because I’d do anything to avoid the ‘spare brain’ thoughts taking over. In the end of course, I overwhelm myself with all the ideas, or run out of energy, or more usually, I get overwhelmed and exhausted at the same time.

Of course recognising that this is happening is more than half the battle won because when you can see what’s going on you can take steps to stop the bad stuff coming down the tracks. As it stands, I know I’ve been a little over focused on distracting myself from, well, myself, for the past month. I’ve detached myself from much of the real world and I’ve connected myself with as many activities as I could manage to care about. On the one hand it worked because here I am – safe and well and not lost in misery. On the other hand it can’t go on forever because, whichever way I look at it, I know I can’t hide forever.

I’ve learned that hiding has its place: sometimes, in fact, it’s going to be the only thing for it. I wasn’t ready for the anniversaries that September brought, nor was I ready for the heartache that came with them. Hiding was a better response than unravelling or jumping off an impossibly tall thing. Hiding was the right thing to do LAST MONTH. But last month is over now and I have to stop hiding because I really didn’t ought to be making a habit of it.

That’s my long and rambling way of saying that things dipped into a strange and not entirely healthy little hole for a little while there. But there was a good reason, and I’m letting myself have a little dip because its way better than a ginormous dip that ends with me deciding jumping out the window is a good idea. For now it’s all about building my routines back up, and getting my connections back in place and looking after myself. Because everything is easier when you look after yourself…..

Meanwhile in other news I had my hair cut this weekend which confused Mr Awesome Thing Number Five because he genuinely couldn’t understand why I was delighted that it looked EXACTLY the same as it did before. Nothing else to report save that I have recently fallen in love with this guy’s songs and, since I can’t stop raving on in real life I might as well rave on here. Check it out – it’s beautiful:

Hope you’re all fine and dandy. Thanks for reading my ramble of a post. I’m working up to something more coherent, promise.

Love you all lots like jelly tots

WeeGeexoxoxo

The state of the WeeGee Nation

I’m still feeling a little far away. Truth told I feel like I’ve started to evaporate – you know, like tiny little wisps of me are floating off into the atmosphere leaving behind a lesser version of the thing that was there before. There. I’ve said it: that’s how I’m REALLY feeling today, although I probably wouldn’t say it anywhere but here. Which makes me think, we might as well get a song in early today:

Of course, I’m doing my best to keep myself connected to things. Trouble is, I seem only to have managed a concentrated period of ping-ponging from one AWESOME activity to the next. Right now, I’m like a 1950s housewife on speed, what with all the pickling things which turned into frenzied chutney making which turned into serious time invested in perfecting chilli jam which reminded me I was going to make a knitting needle roll (!) which made me think I really ought to finish knitting that cardigan. I’ve also been baking stuff, and cooking stuff, and cleaning stuff and ironing stuff (to relax, like) In quiet moments I’ve continued to buy Tupperware at an alarming rate because…… okay, I admit it: I STILL DON’T KNOW WHY IN THE NAME OF FUCK I’M BUYING ALL THIS BLASTED TUPPERWARE.


tupperware one

Ho hum.

So yeah – safe to say there’s a slightly odd state of affairs going on here in WeeGee Land at the moment but I’m mostly putting it down to September. September is my least favourite month of all and I tend not to be at my best whilst it’s in progress. I’ve dragged myself through enough Septembers to know that the best plan of action is to simply hunker down and go with whatever comes. I suppose that’s the bad news: September happens. The good news is:

  • September will be over soon
  • I’ll feel better once September is over
  • I’ve taken care of myself during September which means I’ll be well enough to spring back into action come October

I guess what I’m trying to say is that it isn’t going to be ho hum forever.

Meanwhile in other news the Rugby World Cup is well and truly underway. This is a good thing in WeeGee Land. Nothing else to report save that I have a surplus of Tupperware containers if anyone out there is going short…..

Tuperware 3

Hope the sun is shining on you, wherever you are.

Love you all lots, like lots and lots of Jelly Tots,

WeeGee xoxox

Pickle ALL the things

Since last I wrote I have mostly been being in hiding, partly I think because I’ve been a little under the weather with some kind of ‘virus’ that I can’t seem to shake off for once and for all. The less said about that the better.

I’ve also been feeling quite far away from myself which is just one of those feelings that seems to come along every once in a while. I’ve gotten used to my feelings and I’ve learned to rub along with them without losing myself but I know I have to be careful when I start feeling far away. Historically, I’ve had trouble staying ‘grounded’ and ‘attached’ and I’ve learned the importance of working hard to keep hold of myself if my brain decides it wants to fly away. If anyone needs me in the immediate future, I guess I’ll be working hard to keep hold of myself……

Apart from feeling unwell and far away, life here in WeeGee Land is still rumbling along nicely enough. My latest escapades include pickling ALL OF THE THINGS, reading the fantastic Constance Spry cookery book, going a bit leftfield with my box sets and watching Midsomer Murders from beginning to end, and buying a fuck-tonne of Tupperware, for reasons best known to (if not fully understood by) myself. Standard.

Meanwhile in other news I have decided that I’m going to start keeping a diary. I’ve done a lot of journaling in my time, but I really quite fancy doing the whole ‘Dear Diary’ thing again. So I’ve started one. In September, because if I wait until January I’ll only have forgotten about the idea and who says diaries have to start in January anyway? Nothing else to report today save that I wanted my diary to be ‘old skool’ and it ended up looking like this:

Secret diary

I hope you’re all rare and sparkly and unicorn like. I thought I’d take the liberty of ending with a song. When I was younger I thought it was THE most beautiful song in the world, and I don’t exactly disagree now I’m old(er). I’ve probably shared it before, but some things just keep on coming back to you, don’t they?

That’s it from me.

Love you all lots like Jelly tots,

WeeGee xoxox

Some girls are bigger than others

Just so you know – I’m going to write about the life I lived when I had an eating disorder. There are no pictures and there are no numbers but it’s a post about having an eating disorder. So now you know, in case you’d rather not read.

I hope you’ll forgive the title. I pinched it from the Smiths, one of my go to bands when the going gets tough (and good, and middling. I love the Smiths, me). It seemed appropriate, given the things that have been on my mind this week and carries NO significance beyond being a pretty good song and a straightforward statement of fact. Human women people, much like human men people believe it or not, come in all shapes and sizes and some of them are indeed, bigger, smaller, taller, shorter and all kinds of other things than others.

—–

I write an open and honest blog about the experiences I have with poor mental health: that’s what I do here. I’ve written openly, and honestly about depression, and self-harm and suicidal behaviour because that is my truth and because I refuse to apologise for the pain I have felt. But this is my other truth: there are some things that never get better, and never go away. Some things stay with you, because some things, it seems, are sewn into your very soul.

I’ve never written about my eating disorder, not really. I’ve alluded to it, and danced around it, and acknowledged it without ever really saying anything about it. Why? Because of all the things I’ve felt, and all the things I’ve thought, the things I’ve felt and thought about food, and my weight are the things that hurt the most.

I couldn’t tell you where it started: I’d love to know how I ended up with this particular monkey on my back. In my mind, looking back, I know that my body started changing and I know that it felt wrong. I remember feeling ‘wobbly’ in the bodily sense, and I remember knowing, somehow, that I didn’t want to feel that feeling. There was a point, that I just wanted it to stop: the growing up, the changing body, the being in charge…. I wanted to disappear, to be invisible – I don’t know how or why I came to think that way, but I did.

As for the way I felt? I can’t begin to find the words. Of all the things I’ve felt the way I felt then, in my teens and early twenties, are the only feelings that I can’t bring to life with words. It was a time of ritual, and numbers, and fear, and horror: there has been no horror in my head quite like the horror that the eating disorder put there. To have an eating disorder is to become so absolutely and completely lost that ‘self’ becomes an impossible concept. There is no self – no anything, in the face of a monster like that. They’re sneaky little bastards, eating disorders – they hang around in the background, changing your habits, thoughts, behaviours and instincts. Before you realise it they’re there in the foreground and you’ve completely lost track of which way is up.

For most of my eating disorder my weight was a little low but completely stable. Those were the darkest times because those were the times when I had no help – I was hiding in plain sight. I lived with it alone, I tended it alone, I stoked the fires alone. Then, of course, there were the times when things weren’t quite so stable when my weight became too low, dangerously low, low enough to set alarm bells ringing.

My recovery was a slow one because it took me years to get past the notion that I could ‘get away with it’ and do things my way without anyone noticing. Put plainly, I got used to thinking everything was fine so long as I could convince others, by way of stable weight, that everything was fine. As I’ve already said – eating disorders are sneaky little bastards that conspire to keep you ill against your better judgement.

Nowadays I don’t pretend that my eating disorder isn’t there anymore. I wake up every single morning, look it square in the face and know, for that day, I’m winning. I struggle when I’m hungry, especially in the morning, because there’s a little eating disorder voice challenging me, and coaxing me to keep the hunger going. Every single day of my life I hear that voice and I override it. Because that’s what beating an eating disorder feels like. Every single day of my life I come across food that belongs on a list of ‘banned food’ and I eat it, if I’m hungry. Because that’s what beating an eating disorder feels like. Every single day of my life I refuse to count, and I refuse to weigh and I refuse to feel sorry for nourishing my body. Because that’s what beating an eating disorder feels like.

I was surprised, when I finally got to a point in my life that food and weight and guilt and control didn’t rule it, to discover that things STILL weren’t perfect. Right now I know that I’m still bleak, and over enthusiastic, and compulsive, and secretive, and frightened, and angry, and overwhelmed, and awesome, and hopeful, and happy and a MILLION AND ONE kinds of things. And that’s okay, because that’s what beating an eating disorder feels like. It feels imperfect, but it feels like life, and it feels an awful lot better than it did before…….

Love you all lots like jelly tots,

WeeGee

I heart Fleet…. (Share Your World)

We bought a new fruit bowl at the weekend. Not particularly interesting in of itself, granted, but the net result of buying a new fruit bowl here in WeeGee Land was an afternoon spent COMPLETELY rearranging the furniture to accommodate it. Of course, I’m probably not the first person who COMPLETELY rearranged the furniture because they bought a new fruit bowl, but I’m guessing it puts me in a reasonably small minority nevertheless.

I’m sure that says all kinds of things about me and I’ll probably spend ages having one of my little thinks trying to figure it out. In the meantime I thought I might as well continue my journey with Cee and share my world for another week…..

What made you feel good this week?

To be honest I’ve been feeling a little sad and hopeless this week, not so much about my own life but about the plight of the hundreds of thousand displaced peoples that Europe seems to want to turn its back on. Today saw the bodies of children washing up on Turkish beaches and yet still, as far as I can tell, governments across the continent, refuse to say ‘enough is enough’ and provide easy paths to safe harbour.

Anyway, I’ve digressed. The thing that made me feel good this week was this fantastic initiative to provide much needed items to refugees in Calais and Greece. Much welcome proof to me that we’re not all bad us humans….

For potlucks or parties do you cook it yourself, buy from a grocery store, or pay for catering?

I’m not a bad cook, and I don’t half like doing it so I’d cook myself, each and every time.

What is your favorite part of the town/city you live in.  And what Country do you live?

I’m in the UK which is at least an island, if not at all tropical. I live in Fleet, a little town about 40 miles south of London which is famed for its motorway service station and a rather large pond, which I think is my favourite part of the town:

Fleet pond 2Fleet Pond

I’m also quite fond of the Canal:

Basingstoke canal

And the fields between here and a little town called Hartley Witney:

Countryside

Complete this sentence:  My favorite place in the whole world…..

My favourite place in the whole world is my bed in the five minutes before I have to get up.

Bed

Bonus question:  What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?

This week I was grateful for the Bank Holiday which gave me a three day weekend and a whole extra day with Mr Awesome Thing Number Five and Gryff, the best cat in the world.

In the week coming up I’m looking forward to re-painting the fabulous cast iron recipe-book stand I found at an antiques fair on Monday.

Meanwhile in other news I booked myself a place on a sewing class – something I’ve been meaning to do for approximately four years since receiving a sewing machine as a Christmas gift. Nothing else to report today save that I really must stop procrastinating.

Love you all lots like Jelly tots,

WeeGee xoxoxox

Enough time

Now that August is almost over, I’m considering lifting the self-imposed media blackout that’s been in force here in WeeGee Land for the past few weeks. I got tired of reading about the ‘migrant crisis’, which, in days gone by might have instead (and indeed more accurately) been described as a ‘humanitarian crisis’. And please don’t get me started on the omnishambles that is the Labour Party leadership contest. As a general rule I consider it my duty as a citizen of planet Earth to keep up to date with the news of the day but there’s something about the news during August in general and this August in particular that makes me want to punch faces…. lots of faces.

An ode to Tony Blair

Other than a growing sense of unease I don’t have a lot to show for August – it just sort of came and went in a haze of thoughts and ideas. It was my birthday at the start of month and that, I think, has been the most significant thing to happen because there’s something about turning 36 that makes you realise you really are stuck on a slippery slope: destination GROWN UP.

Its funny how it creeps up on you, this being an adult thing. All the way through my twenties I was completely oblivious to the fact that time was passing because it didn’t seem to matter. I suppose, looking back, I enjoyed the time I spent being old enough to know better but young enough to go ahead and do it anyway. Now I find myself confronted by a growing body of evidence that, not only am I not young anymore – at least not in that optimistic, oblivious way I once was – I am actually a proper, bona fide GROWN UP. I mean, I own a gravy boat, it matches my dinner service AND I inhabit a life that necessitates gravy boat ownership. If that doesn’t make me a grown up, I don’t what does.

Of course, there’s humour in realising that you’ve turned into a grown up – mostly I suspect because you have to laugh at yourself if you hope to get by. And so listening to radio four, and acquiring a skincare REGIME, and reading the care labels on clothes before you buy them, and worrying about the dexterity of your joints, and realising that all of your favourite albums are so old that they’re either considered seminal or have been forgotten by everyone save those who share your age and musical persuasion becomes the subject of those knowing ‘in-jokes’ you share with your peers over mid price French wine that you bought by the caseload because it got five stars in the Waitrose Weekend Magazine.

At the same time, being a grown up has been bothering me of late. Its not a vanity thing because getting old is inevitable and I have every intention of doing it completely disgracefully. More I think, it’s about sadness: sadness for the time that has passed and the things I won’t have time to do.

Recently, I’ve been struck by the fact that there are things that, for one reason or another, I will never do again – like spending my wages in a record shop on pay day and then having to borrow my bus fare to work the rest of the month. You know, important stuff like that.

Funny adult

And then I think about how the more time that passes, the less time there is. I’ll always remember realising that even if I’d started reading books the very moment I was born and had never stopped until the day I died that I wouldn’t even have managed to have read all the books that were published in my lifetime, let alone any of the books that had come before. It feels like a heavy realisation to me and I guess it applies to life in general. There just isn’t going to be enough time.

I suppose it occurred to me that I don’t have all the time in the world and that I can’t do it all. Which means, I think, that you have to take the time you have and keep on filling it with as many of the things as you want to. And that is what I’ve worked out in the August that I didn’t watch the news, turned 36 and realised I am a grown up: you can’t do it all, but you will do some of it. You have plenty enough time for some of it and that is just AWESOME enough for anyone.

Life is short

Meanwhile in other news I was left alone with a television for one night and managed to grow it into a brand new obsession with a certain TV chef. Nothing else to report save that I discovered today that Amazon deliver to the UK on BANK HOLIDAY MONDAY and as a result I am quite happily working my way through the Rick Stein back catalogue as I write.

That’s all from me for today. I hope you’re all fabulous and fantastic and full of awesomeness. Here’s a song to match the title of the post just to tie the whole thing up.

Love you all lots like jelly tots

WeeGee xoxox

Share your world week 34…..

Without further ado, here’s my contribution to Cee’s Share Your World Challenge for week 34…..

Was school easy or difficult for you? How so?

I wouldn’t go quite so far as to say that my school days were the best of my life, but I liked them well enough. I was fairly bright, I did well academically, my friends were a pretty cool bunch and I was reasonably popular. So yeah – school was easy and I did well. Whichever way I look at it, I was lucky because school opened doors for me and, in one way or another, got me to where I’ve gotten to so far.

Me (far right, for the only time in my life) and my school pals

Me (far right, for the only time in my life) and my school pals – on the last day of school.

By the time I got to university I was really struggling with what was happening in my head and I hadn’t quite figured out how to get the support I needed – most of my darkest days happened between 1997 and 2000. That said, I still loved learning and again, I was lucky enough to have awesome friends in my life.

Some kind of shenanigans with the University folks. I'm second on the left.....

Some kind of shenanigans with the University folks. I’m second on the left…..

My undergraduate degree was difficult but I pulled myself through with an awful lot of help from my friends and family. I left university with a good honours degree DESPITE being well and truly bonkers for the duration of my studies and I’m proud of that.

I went on to get my masters degree and another undergraduate degree into the bargain so, safe to say, I like learning…..

What is your favourite animal?

You’d be forgiven for thinking that my favourite animal is a penguin because I do so love them. My mild obsession with penguins started with the book ‘Death and the penguin’ (I can’t recommend it highly enough) and just sort of spiralled in that uncontrollable way that all mild obsessions do. Here I am feeding some baby penguins:

Penguins 1

Me. And some hungry baby penguins.

One of them shat in my shoe and it hardly grossed me out at all. THAT’S how much I love penguins.

Nevertheless, no matter how much I love penguins I will never love them more than I love this not particularly little guy:

Gryff 8

Gryff: the best cat in the world

Gryff is the apple of my eye, and the love of my life and a VERY NAUGHTY CAT. But of course, that’s half the charm…..

If you had to have your vision corrected would you rather have glasses or contacts?

I’m extremely short sighted and I’ve been wearing glasses since I was fifteen years old. Every so often I come over a bit vain and decide I’m going to switch to contacts but I feel slightly naked without my glasses now. They’re pretty much a part of my face……

Name at least five TV shows, past or present, you enjoyed

I chose ten – WeeGee’s top ten ‘TV box sets that will change your life for the better’. I’ve listed them in no particular order, apart from the first one which is the BEST piece of television ever made and is therefore deliberately at number one:

  1. Breaking Bad (see above)
  2. House (I resisted watching this and then I started and I COULDN’T STOP)
  3. Monk (This has a special place in my heart)
  4. Dexter (Don’t bother watching the last episode. Your imagination can do a better ending)
  5. True detective (The good one. Otherwise known as the first one)
  6. Orange is the new black (and not just because I am a little bit in love with Ruby Rose)
  7. The Walking Dead (because ZOMBIES and because…. Just because)
  8. House of cards (The original BBC one is just as awesome as the Kevin Spacey one)
  9. Jonathan Creek (and not just because I am a little bit in love with Alan Davies)
  10. The thick of it (Never gets old)

What are you grateful for from the past week and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?

This past week I have been grateful for my friends, family, and of course, Mr Awesome Thing Number Five who fits in to both categories. I’m looking forward to the Bank Holiday next week, because what’s not to like about Bank Holidays? Plus it gives me a perfect excuse for this:

That’s all from me.

Love you all lots like Jelly Tots,

WeeGee xoxox