i think it’s (past) time we had a fistula fundraising update, don’t you? (if you don’t know what i’m talking about, please click here).

the aim was to raise £150, enough for a fistula repair operation for one woman, by my birthday, january 27th. we haven’t made that total yet (and we may not make it, i have to be honest) but we have still done pretty well, and i’m really impressed that with minimal prodding, a group of us has already raised £72.50.

that’s enough for a preventative caesarean and a set of surgical instruments for fistula repair, or hospital transport for 14 women or food for 29 fistula patients for a week. in other words, it’s blooming fantastic!

however, this campaign can always use more cash and if you want to boost the total, you still have time. you can give your £2.50/$5 via paypal - my email is dianewhatdoyoudo@googlemail.com - or contact me if you’d prefer to send a cheque). if you can add a few pence/cents extra to cover paypal fees, i’ll love you for it, as so far i’ve been covering them from my own pocket.

you have until midnight (any time zone!) on the 27th when i’ll wrap things up for good. (i’ll send the donation sometime the following week if everything’s cleared).

as the 27th is my birthday (have i mentioned that?) i’d consider it a wonderful gift if you’d donate.

i asked for it.

boy, did i ask for it. over and over again, i asked for it. begged for it, even.

and now i’ve got it, and i haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate it. boy, do i hate it.

let me backtrack: when i was nineteen, i started feeling so flat and numb and unable to cope with life that i left university, went home, crawled into a double-duvet cocoon on the sofa and pretty much stayed there. i was depressed, my counsellor was a flake, anti-depressants didn’t work for me, and i couldn’t feel a thing. i prayed, begged and bargained with the universe and god (who i didn’t believe in, btw) to make it better. i didn’t even want to be happy - i just wanted to feel something, even if it was bad. anything would be better than nothing.

fast forward through eight years of mental and physical health challenges which caused me to have (major understatement coming up!) an atypical twenties experience. almost two months ago, i underwent the manifest abundance retreat, part of the journey programme which regular readers will know i’m obsessed with a big fan of.

the last part of the retreat was the time when, all shiny and cried-out and open and honest, we let our intuition tell us what god/grace/the universe (whichever you prefer) most wanted for us.

for me: healing on all levels. not only did we admit it to ourselves, we stood in the middle of a truth circle, said it out loud, and everyone in the circle focused on it. it felt physically hot in the centre of that circle, and i was spooked.

the very next day, the crap started coming. i had trouble with just about every aspect of my journey back, got home and cried for about four hours straight. it was agony. and yet i KNEW. i knew the universe was doing exactly as i asked. ever since, i’ve been getting regular challenges, some smaller than others, some embarrassing and stupid. all of them flagging up things i haven’t dealt with, releasing pent up emotions i’d rather deny i had.

but it’s all helping me to heal. you see, i know that my illness was caused in large part by my suppressing upsetting emotions since childhood in an effort to be a ‘coper’. (argh - never be a coper, people! fall apart, it’s healthier). i know now that all those emotions have to be felt - and as i can’t go back in time, now will have to do. this is what i asked, prayed, begged and cajoled for. i wanted this. who knew it would feel so bad?!

i truly believe that once i’ve finally worked through all this raw emotion, felt the pain and healed the wounds of the past, i’ll be transformed, and happy, and healed on all levels. just like i’ve always wanted. in the meantime, my emotions are like a small ship on a very rough and blustery sea.

turns out you really do have to be careful what you wish for, because how it happens is out of your hands.

and you might haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate it.

i’ve written a new piece for the guardian blog about romance fiction and how male and female authors write about love in different ways. see what you think.

and i’m in woman’s weekly this week, if you’re so inclined. go on, buy it, i dare you.

i read an article in the independent before the new hampshire primary, which talked about bill ‘the comeback kid’ clinton, and how he went from second place in iowa to first place in new hampshire back in 1992. i vaguely remember hearing about that before (and it sounds familar from primary colors - i recommend the book and the film, btw):

while hillary sat outside in the car, bill was in a macdonald’s the night before the vote, meeting people and pledging to be a brilliant leader. the next day he won, and the rest is history.

BUT, argued the independent article, hillary couldn’t do that. not only is she less charismatic than bill (there’s a reason she was in the car) but she was in third place after iowa. new hampshire would more than likely seal her defeat.

oh, really?

the clintons clearly have some kind of new hampshire mojo that can not be fought.

it doesn’t mean hillary will be elected president, or even get the ‘nom’, but it’s spooky all the same.

update: i didn’t know how to phrase what i thought about hillary’s tears, then someone else did it for me (and ps: the latest news suggestion* is the questioner was a ‘plant’…)

*okay, carol? ;)

post from the past: a politicial.  

remember last year (oh so many moons ago) when i laid out my plans for 2008? (they included vegas and uni and australia and i’m not sure what else… is it coming back to you now?)

well, it’s all changed. i’ve just sent off my uni application (just NOW! aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!) but for a deferred place - i.e. i’d go in 2009, not 2008, if they let me in. (PLEASE let me in!)

vegas and the grand canyon is off the table for now, but i can always visit if i get into the study abroad programme for 2010 (please let me in!) australia is hopefully still on, just postponed til - well, we have some travel agents to see…

y’see, planning is all very well, but sometimes life has other ideas. and i’ve learned that it’s very nice to make plans, but no good if you don’t follow them up with actions, like eating well, resting enough, exercising and making sure you’re fit enough to follow through.

hopefully i’ve now struck the balance between wild optimism and hopeless despair: i hear there’s a place called REALITY? i’d like to spend some time there, making real plans that will actually happen.

having said that, everything is - of course - always and forever open to change. i’ll only really know what i’m going to do when i’m actually doing it.

and you’ll know right after that, when i blog about it. naturally.

i’m not blogging here today because i’m blogging there, and when i say there, i mean of course most excellent hot igloo blog the fashion police. thank you for having me, amber!

read my guest post by clicky-clicking here.

coming soon to this blog: reality bites and the clintons do voodoo. (probably). and i’m still taking birthday celebration suggestions: would do you like to do?

it’s the seventh! which means! it’s only 20 days! ’til my birthday!

whence it will be one year ’til i am thirty, and also - i will stop saying ‘whence’.

what shall we do to celebrate, internets? (apart from the ‘whence’ thing.)

so far, only my friend helen ™ has contributed to the discussion i started on new year’s eve, but there’s still time for you to answer, too: what’s your most memorable year (good or bad), and why?

for me, it was 1997.

a lot happened that year…

i turned 18, voted for the first time, witnessed the first change of government since i was five months old (gosh, i was hopeful - what a bitter disappointment), fostered a cat which had kittens (which we looked after and weaned and found homes for), took my a-levels, moved to my grandparents after our house sold and we had nowhere to go (the day before my last a-level exam, natch), my dad separated from his second wife, i went to rome the week princess diana died, moved away to university, made a new group of friends, got so ill with glandular fever (which wasn’t disgnosed ’til months later) that i couldn’t speak and could hardly swallow, had the drunkest new year in recorded history (antibiotics and alkehol don’t mix) and held hands (that’s all) with my soon-to-be boyfriend of five years.

…for starters. 

doesn’t this new film look interesting? weird, but interesting.

i’m desperate to see enchanted asap, it’s getting rave reviews all over. even from grown men!

looks like there will be plenty of small-screen action this year. as usual, i’m only really interested in stuff from the US, so gossip girl is top of my list, along with the brilliant-concept [forensic scientist is secretly a serial killer!] dexter. hopefully brothers & sisters will be back, and i know desperate housewives will be. in brit news, i HAVE to see if that girl from eastenders will be any good as the bionic woman (anyone?) and home-made drama lost in austen sounds weird but potentially fabulous. i’ve also got 3 months of lovefilm free so have rented the first DVD of a cult series i never saw during its run: dead like me. so far it’s v. good.

what do you want to watch, like yesterday?