what do you do?

…except when i say ‘going to the chapel’, i mean [drumroll please…] i’m going to australia!

and when i say ‘i’m gonna get married’, i mean i’m not. (and perhaps i should have picked a more appropriate lyric to title this post).

anyway… i leave (i think) on april 10th for about three months.

so i’ll either be blogging loads or not blogging much at all until then.

is it wrong - or so very very right - that i’ve already started packing? 

i’m researching australian visas because i might just HAVE to go before this rain DOES ME IN, and there’s a few different options to choose from.

all the different explanations on the aussie government’s website say at the top:

this one is for you if…

but i haven’t found the one that finishes that sentence:

you’re struggling to feel positive, PMS-ing like no-one’s business and worried that you’ll never feel happy again.

i’ll keep looking.

i know you’re an intelligent bunch who like words and reading and book learnin’, so i’m picking your brains for a new project i’m (very very slowly) putting together… (all being well).

do you have any favourite language/word-related sites, blogs or podcasts to recommend? anything to do with how we use words and language (including slang, writing and non-verbal communication) welcome. i have a few ideas, but would like more resources, so if you can think of any, please let me have them! (self-promoters OK).

friday afternoon.

i was feeling ten kinds of terrible, sitting at my computer with a sinking stomach and a heavy heart.

wallowing.

i’d started the week with bucketloads of hope, and ended it in a trough of despair. it had been a week of no thank yous, not right for uss and we’re not looking for anyone at the moments. i’d tried harder than i ever thought possible, and got exactly nowhere.

well, that’s it, i thought. it’s hopeless. i’ll never work again and no one loves me and i’ll have no money and have to go and live in a cardboard box and drink methylated spirits.

then i looked up, and at that moment, my eye caught the quote i’d cut out from o magazine and stuck on my wall. it said:

the difference between successful people and unsuccessful people is that… [are you ready?]

successful people fail more.

in work news (don’t yawn!), i have been sending out pitches like mad, dead keen on getting in lots of lovely lucrative and interesting writing to do. yes peeps, the sabbatical is officially OV-ER… send yer (lovely lucrative and interesting writing) work my way, and be quick about it!

and you can see my new, improved, pimped up and ready-to-rock work website (which i made myself, just like a proper person!) at:

www.dianeshipley.co.uk.

also, i’ve signed up for a photoshop course.

dorkily, i’m very excited about it. it’s a two-day introductory thingy, in february. which is good ‘cos i know not one thing about photoshop and i think i need to. fabbily, i got 40% off the price! (i don’t know how i qualified for that, it was all v. secretive, but somehow i did.)

i want to expand my “skills portfolio” by getting to grips with graphic design at least a little bit and then i’ll conquer stuff like CMS, CSS and HTML so i can take over the internet and be reech beyond compare do more.

finally, i got the BEST business cards from moo. after dilly-dallying with picture cards, i finally went for some text cards (i got aqua, black, pink and red) with ‘DIANE SHIPLEY. FREELANCE JOURNALIST’ on the front in a cool font, with a stripey print background. that sounds gaudy; but they’re just funky. and small! (cute). i love them and will be finding all kinds of excuses to give them to people.

i have other work-related news involving spreadsheets and the like, but even i have to draw the line somewhere…

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.

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.)