Monthly Archives: August 2012

When least expected, butterflies….

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I read a quote the other day. It went like this

“Maybe it’s just hiding somewhere. Or gone on a trip to come home. But falling in love is always a pretty crazy thing. It might appear out of the blue and just grab you. Who knows — maybe even tomorrow.”
― Haruki Murakami, Sputnik

Every now and again if you are very lucky there will be moments in life that will in years to come define the very person you are or way that you see the world.

I had that moment this weekend. An unexpectedly exquisite stumble into feelings that I think if I am honest, had forgotten existed. I understand what they say in the movies now, about electricity between two people, the moment your casual glances meet and almost as though fate is sealed, it’s just up to you to do with that moment the best you can.

Weddings are always tough for me, I adore that I am involved in someone’s life moment, I am always an enthusiastic hymn singer and will happily dance to the jitter bug. However, the cynic in me thinks that the world has become obsessed with the wedding and dismissive about the marriage. I unfortunately therefore rarely enjoy them. But this wedding was more than that. It wasn’t a distant cousin I don’t really remember sharing Lego with, it was a friend I have known since we were 9, I have been a part of his family, his mum and my mum adore each other, his dad is the kindest man I know, I’ve watched his amazing little brothers and sister grow into incredible individuals. So this wedding was a special one.

On a summers day, in a tiny church in Kent, one space free next to me on the pew and in he walked, grey 3 piece suit, baby boy features and in he sidled next to me, introduced himself and the rest as they say is history.

Watching Mark, the groom, turn to watch his soon to be wife, Sophy, walk into the simply decorated church, arm linked with her dad, I realised that despite all the people watching, that moment all he saw in the world was Sophy. She, as all brides do, looked beautiful, they giggled through vows, starring into each other eyes, listened to people who love them recite readings of love and hope for the future. It could not have been a more quintessential British summer wedding if it had tried.

The party was at the brides parents house, a beautiful farm house, surrounded by an orchard, the marquee was dressed in black white and green, the amazing drinks tent with home made ginger beer and pink lemonade, kids running around, adults getting slightly tipsy in the August sunshine.

Having not seen Mr 3 piece suit for a while I had been commandeered by a very brash but hilarious Texan called Ash, whose hobbies he informed me include “shooting shit, drinking expensive champagne and dancing like a mother f**ker” so he and I drank champagne, talked about politics then danced like lunatics to the Arctic Monkeys, Bon Jovi & various other perfectly picked songs.

And then Joshua Radin “I’d rather be with you” came on as if from no where Mr 3 piece suit appeared on the dance floor, equipped with a huge grin on his face and a beckoning finger, urging me to dance with him. His jacket discarded now and his red silk tie a little looser around his neck, we danced together my hand in his, he spun me around, mouthed the words to the song to me, these words

“I need to be bold
Need to jump in the cold water
Need to grow older with a girl like you
Finally see you were naturally
The one to make it so easy when you showed me the truth
Yeah, yeah I’d rather be with you
Say you want the same thing too”

Now I have to tell you at this point it’s very hard for me to write all of this down, but I made a vow 4 months ago that this blog would be nothing but honesty, and so even though it’s making me feel a little funny, it’s honest and my life. If I am truthful I don’t think that I would have even noticed Mr 3 piece suit before I had been away, I’m fairly sure I would have thought he was gorgeous, then began the mental beat up of myself, listing the reasons that he would never look twice at me. But this time was different, he had looked twice and as we danced he was smiling at me like I haven’t been smiled at in a very long time.

His life, as all of ours are, is slightly complicated. But we decided that just for 24 hours not to think about the things at home, not to seek anything past the end of the weekend. I realised that I spend so much of my life looking for the future, wanting to be grown up, new job, home of my own, nice holidays, that I have been missing my life, missing the moments like this, in the arms of a great guy laughing and carefree.

We went our separate way for a while I danced with the grooms little brother, who at 17 is 6ft 1 and was at this point quite drunk, then the grooms grand father, we danced, laughed and drank. We watched on as the new Mr&Mrs smile at each other whilst wearing pink wellies and dancing under the star lit sky.

And so for me the end of the evening approached, mum and I heading back to the faulty towers type b&b we were staying in. Mr 3 piece no where to be seen as we said out goodbyes, then as I walked away from the marque, a firm hand grabbed me, spun me round, and suddenly he kissed me, full on Hollywood style, and asked me to stay. Now, in steps my stupid stubborn side. No, that was my answer, this wonderful guy asking me to stay, but rather than be brave and see where the evening might take me, I walked away. I did look over my shoulder and he looked like a puppy I was abandoning. The drive to the b&b was quiet, but once in our room I realised I had made a shitty decision. Quickly changed out of the dress I was in, on went the jeans and white shirt and a taxi was called. I realised that I could go back and just be brave, maybe nothing would happen, maybe he would have left, found someone else to sweep off her feet. But I realised that I had to try, isn’t that what life is about, taking a leap and hoping to god you can fly.

I had butterflies the whole way back to the wedding, nervously arrived back at the marquee.

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Greeted by the groom, by this point in a straw boating hat, white heather boa and pink wellies, he grabbed hold of me, squeezed me and said. ” thank god you’re back, he’s sulking in the orchard” so with that I grabbed a bottle of the home made raspberry vodka and went on a man hunt. And as the groom had rightly described sitting at the end of the orchard on a picnic bench was Mr 3 piece, nursing a bottle of brandy.

Now I’m not one for big dramatic romantic moments, so I am going to make the most of this one, he saw me, and I have actually never seen anyone smile like that towards me, it was like I had made his day by reappearing. Up he stood, walked towards me and picked me up off my feet to hug me and said “you’re even more perfect in jeans”

Now the rest of the evening is some what of a blur and I don’t want to give away all of my secrets but let’s just say, there was lots of alcohol consumed, we danced until 3 am under the stars and ended the night sharing a very small tent.

I would be lying to you all if I said that leaving in the morning was a nice feeling so I slipt out as he slept, a note next to him that simply said “thank you, more than you will ever m know” no number was left, this perfectly magical time was just that, a moment in time, something that I think if I ever tried to make more of would become dulled. The moment would be weakened by real life I fear.

And he won’t ever really know what he did for me, to have a renewal of faith in love, a real moment of realisation that I won’t be alone forever, that I am good enough to make a man smile eat to ear.

Whist curled up in the car on the journey home, feeling like my hangover might drag me into the seventh circle of hell, I realised the Jaegermeister shot drinking completion at 2am had finally caught up with me, a memory flashed into my mind, the last words he said before falling asleep….

“I’m not sure after meeting you life will ever be the same”

And you know what, I agree, it never will.

E x

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Well….what a week!

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Well to say that this week has been an emotionally charged g-force week would be a fair understatement. Since coming back to the UK I have felt a little disjointed as one would imagine, well this week the joints were slowly re-jointed and peace was finally restored to the Trotter Kingdom.

Love, that is what has touched most of the events of this week, in some guile, not always the movie kind, some time simply the tiny ray of hope that comes with potential love.

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It started with a date, my first proper one in well over a year, there were a lot of nerves, slight unwell feeling and a distinct amount of sweating, but I made it to the date in one piece. The picture above is me on my way out on said date. I have to admit although JP was not in any form my “type” I decided a date was a date and I had to proverbially “get back on the horse” it turned out to be a really lovely few hours, we chatted about work and family, the usual topics, finished our drinks, hugged and went our own merry way.

But something strange happened whilst walking home, I had a really vivid memory of my first date with my first love, sitting nervously hoping he would make the first move, almost melting into a puddle when he kissed me for the first time and the literal joy when he rang me the next day to ask me out again. There was something so incredible about that feeling, that overwhelming strength of attraction to another person. I remember even to this day the moment leading up to him coming to pick me up, the hours spent talking to my girlfriends about him, the numerous hours spent boring my mum to tears about him. But to me he was perfect, first real love perfect. To me he was the best looking human that had walked the planet and I thanked my lucky stars. But of all of this, all of my feelings, the greatest feeling in the world was when he looked at me, and smiled and I knew that he felt the same. Every now and again he would stop mid sentence to kiss me, just because he couldn’t finish the sentence without kissing me. I remember walking down the stairs at a family wedding and him actually gasping because in that moment, to him, I was the best thing in the world.

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Well folks I tell you something, I want that kind of love, the kind that is inconvenient, knock you off your feet, completely all consuming love. So I have decided I will not settle for mediocre love, not settling for anything other than fairytale. Now I appreciate those of you who know me may need a wee moment to lift your jaws off the ground. I know this must come as a shock to you all, the romance-less, hater of happy endings wants one for herself. Well yes, she does and she would like the whole package. The nerves, the butterflies, the hours spent just being with that person because there is no where better to be.

And that ladies and gentlemen is why, although JP was a great guy, funny and charming, he isn’t butterflies, and I am looking for butterflies.

So once Tuesday was over there was the whole rest of the week to battle, Wednesday was spent job hunting and generally being proactive, rather than waiting for “agencies” to help me find a job I set to and contacted companies I want to work for directly, with a witty yet professional email, not expecting a whole lot of response. What a shock I got when an email landed in my inbox from a company MD who had received my email, the email said and I quote

“I have been having the most appalling day and receiving your fiery, forthright almost borderline intrusive email just made me laugh out loud, much to the amusement of my office. I must applaud your tenacity, to email me directly and inform me of why I should hire you has been a breath of fresh air from the hoards of generic covering emails. I can tell you whole heartedly that I am saddened that we are not hiring at the moment, as I know once we are you will have been rightly snapped up. So thank you, Emma for making a very grumpy man laugh like he hasn’t in a while”

Now, no one likes a rejection letter, but if you have to get one thats the kind that you want. It has spurred me on to continue to search for the perfect role, and as in my love life I do not intend to settle for anything less than epic.

Thursday rolled round and was of course “A-Level results day” a smorgasbord of a day filled with the varying degrees of joy and despair. But my day would not be spent waiting for results, thank goodness. No my day would be filled with writing, writing my book.

Finally I feel like I have broken the back of it as I approach the 30,000 word mark. If you are interested, which I sincerely hope you are, its a dark comedy loosely based on my train crash of a dating life, its a little like this blog, overtly honest, sometimes I slightly over share and obviously filled with the obligatory sarcasm. But it all harks back to the “love” not matter what form the guys I have dated have been, the ways that we met, the ways we parted, there were parts of each of them I loved. Be it the first love, the “way out of my league” adoration, the first grown up love, or the most recent devastating painful love. Every single relationship as got me to where I am now, so I wanted to celebrate them, these men that in their own ways have helped me to grow up, and become the woman that I am. I wonder, maybe if anything comes of the book, I will send them each a copy.

Finally we come to the weekend, and a surprise party thrown for one of my closest friends, who has just signed a publishing deal, and is still very much in the slightly shell shocked phase.

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So myself, Simon & Sarah put together a little surprise gathering of Amys’ family and close friends. We drank roughly 12 bottles of wine & champagne, 10 bottles of beer and ate an obscene amount of cake. I have to admit that it was an afternoon that really made me realise how very lucky I am. To be surrounded by people who are kind, creative and wickedly funny too boot, is just about all a girl could ask for. It got me to thinking a lot last night, as I lay in bed thinking about this life that I have lived so far, I don’t think even if I was given the chance to start from scratch and do it all again, I would change a thing. The trick now is to turn everything that has got me to my ripe age of 26 years, 10 months 22 days, into lessons to get me through the next 26 years, 10 months and 22 days in as exciting a way a possible.

So the moral of this weeks slightly disjointed blog is that rather than looking over my shoulder at past love and past feeling, I have to keep putting one foot hopefully in front of the other and enjoy the trip rather than eternally searching for the ultimate destination.

That’s all for now, same time, next time

E x

Simons blog – http://pleasedontslowmedown.wordpress.com

Sarahs blog – http://alovingheartisthetruestwisedom.wordpress.com

Disappointment

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It is a charming skill we are taught as children, to not be bitter or hot headed when faced with disappointment, but to be respectful and accept it as part of growing up. But, I ask you, how are we meant to deal with it once we are grown. Should we all learn the ability to “manage our expectations”? To be a good sport? What does that even mean?

I am quite honestly bored of having to gracefully accept disappointment and let down. I am mostly bored of accepting the way people behave. It happens more and more the older I get, I am let down either by the actions of others or by events as they unfold.

From the simple trip to the cinema, spending a small fortune for the luxury of an uncomfortable seat and over priced refreshments, but after you have been rised of money, you take your seat, you become engrossed in the admosphere, the trailers and the anticipation of the feature you are about to watch. Then, sadly in most cases, I leave feeling disappointed. Take the Bourne Legacy, the amazing adverts, the knowledge that I adored the previous ones, well I tell you if I wanted a sappy romantic movie I would watch Love Actually. I would love someone to explain something to me???

Why is it when you go to see a romantic comedy with the likes of Jennifer Aniston or J-Lo, you are not bombarded with hand to hand combat or an 18 car chase? But heaven forbid you go to watch a movie that is advertised as the “Ultimate Bourne” and it is actually just that, a high octane, fast paced, heart racing action thriller. Because I tell you something I left the cinema today realising it was 2 hours of my life I was never going to get back!

But enough of the film reviews, and apologies if in just burst your bubble before you go to see it, I genuinely hope that its just my cynical way.

The real reason for this post was a follow on and update on my foray into the world of gainful employment. Well I have to tell you it started extremely well, I felt on top of the world as I left the PR speciality agency full of confidence in my transferable skills. It turned out that I really did need someone to tell me that I was good enough and someone would most definitely employ me. As I sat on the train home I was filled with a wonderful sense of belonging again, something I didn’t even realise I was missing.

And so my CV went off to a creative agency I already knew of and loved the sound of and I sat smugly thinking it was in the bag, HA! Well how I felt the fool when Friday passed with not so much as a squeak, not a word, not even a rejection, and thus began the weekend of Limbo – wondering, waiting and hoping that I would get the call to say YES they would LOVE to meet with you. Instead just as 11am passed I got the call, “you didn’t get it” gutted is a great word to describe how I felt, deflated there is another one, but of all things I felt I mostly felt disappointed. Now, I really have fantastic friends and family and as is my way I obviously posted on Facebook & twitter that I was disappointed and they were all fab as always, tweets and comments of support and condolences. But the thing that I really struggle with is the immediate need to pacify disappointment, I had messages like this “You were too good for them” “They don’t know what they are missing” “There is something way better out there for you” and I tell you something that makes for wonderful friends and family. But here is my thought on the matter. Maybe actually I wasn’t good enough for the job, right for the job, maybe they have someone far more suitable. I actually think that rather than temper my disappointment I am going to use it to adapt my CV and look into ways of making my self the perfect candidate. Its a stance I plan on adopting in all aspects of my life….dating included.

As my single years have passed, I continue to be disappointed in men I date not seeing past the fact that I am over weight, I am disouraged and in the long term angry that they are so superficial that they dont take the time to get to know me. I imagine a lot of you reading this feel that I am being hard on myself but im not. Why wouldnt a guy be put off by someone that doesnt fit the type they go for, if I was as dumb as dirt then i would expect them to have an issue with that too. Luckily i’m pretty smart & have great sense of humor so the issue holding me back is something I can change so as such I am going to deal with the weight thing, because as much as I might say “Im comfortable in my skin”, its a lie i’m not I want my size 12 body back. And before anyone says that i’m doing it for the wrong reasons, surely no matter the initial reason being healthy and well is always a better way to live that over weight and unhealthy.

So on the 15th September I will begin a 21 day regime with a friend who is also a fantastic personal trainer Chris Lupton from Innovate Fitness, you can read about it on his site, http://www.innovatefitness.co.uk. I will of course be blogging about it and tweeting so if you want to know all about it stay tuned!

Whilst researching “disappointment” I found this quote and think it suitably sums up how I plan to deal with it going forward, I will leave this post with the quote and il be back soon!

“The size of your success is measured by the strength of your desire; the size of your dream and how you handle the disappointment along the way”

E x

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Ding Ding Ding round 2!

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So here I am on the eve of my first job interview in over 3 years. I have bought a new outfit, slightly different from my most recent uniform of skinny jeans, vest tops & Ugg boots. Instead its beautifully tailored trousers, a silk shirt with cream suede heels and finished off with classic rose gold jewellery. I have agonised over straight or curly hair – going in the end for volumous straight, I have debated the suitability of certain heel heights, 3 inches was decided upon, nail colour…. Chanel Red.

Its a strange old feeling, I have been the one on the business side of the desk, asking the questions and theoretically deciding someones fate for 3 years, I have hired & managed 6 members of staff throughout that time, asked them probing questions about skills, life plans and experience. I have debated over how “right” they are. But tomorrow at 12 noon I will be sitting in the office of a hugely successful woman, who runs a hugely sucessful business, hoping that she sees in me something she feels she can work with. I hope that she sees my drive and ambiotion, my determiation and tenacity and most of all I hope that I keep my inner “boss” inside!

It has been a strange old few years.

I went from living with my “wonderful” boyfriend, working with friends and with a great social life filled with parties and holidays, to being broken hearted back on my mum and dads door step with a suitcase and a sense of complete loss. I wont lie to you all it took me 6 months to even begin to deal with the end of the relationship, to say he pulled the rug from under me is an understatement of quite epic proportions, he cheated, lied and drank excessively. I was the one who eneded it, I left our home together, left all the furniture, and decided that I would rather be devastasted on my own than with a man who would treat me with such disrespect and regard.

So back I went to my childhood room, and i began to plot, to plan to take back my life. And my life became a life wrapped in bun cases and topped with whipped butter cream.

I started making cakes to raise money for a sky dive I was doing for Orchid Cancer Care, something I decided whilst inhebriated with my dad just after his prostate cancer diagnosis. It turned from around 36 cupcakes a week, into a home run business, when my dad passed in May 2010 it pushed me harder towards success and with his gentle geordie accent in my ears urging me to be more than people expected of me, I took over a corporate kitchen, then leased a beautiful period shop in Harrogate, I lauched a bakery blog and ended my days in the business making around 2000 cakes a week. During those 3 years I had the greatest moments, met incredible people, created cake masterpieces for wonderful couples & companies alike, opened my own shop and started writing a cook book. But as those of you who are self employed or in fact anyone with a beating heart know, where there are ups, indeed there are downs. I cried when a member of staff left me completely in the lurch and ruined my holiday, I screamed when clients pulled out last minute, I cursed when I had to spend hours chasing invoices. But without all of that, without the moments of sheer delight or the horrific moments when I would wake at 2am thinking I had forgotton something, I wouldnt have all that I now have. I wouldnt have sold the business, and spent some of the money expoloring America & Canada, meeting achingly cool new people and family members I have never met. I learnt to miss people and mostly love myself.

But as with the business, where there are the ups of Edge Walking the CN Tower, watching imaculate sunsets and laughing until I cant breath. There was the down time, the moment I landed in Manchester Airport on Tuesday 31st July 2012, I felt my tan and optomism begin to fade. I panicked, how would I keep up the momentum, remain so positive with life, when once I was home nothing defined me. No business, No staff, No reason to need to be up in the morning. For someone like me, always with a plan and always charging through life, being useless is a very daunting feeling.

And that brings us to now, laid on my bed at 12.29am on Monday 6th August 2012, nails painted and hair washed in my I Heart NYC pjs. I am glad to report that although I am nervous, I am filled with all the hope I had the first day my shop opened, I am supremely grateful that my father bestowed his abillity to have infinite self belief onto me.

I am faithful that tomorrow will bring about the dawn of the next chapter in this exciting life of mine. I always said that I never wanted to get the end of my life and wished that I had done more, seen more or most of all been more. I made a promise to myself sat watching the sun set over Lynden Ontario that I would be true to myself and never deny myself one moment of supercalifragilisticexpealidocious-ness and that is a promise I indend to keep.

Here is my new motto…

“Eventually all of the pieces will fall into place
Until then laugh at the confussion,
live for the moment
and know that everything happens for a reason”

Speak soon

E x