I’m bringing cursive back.

Or not it would seem. I’ve been putting pen to recycled cardboard over the past couple of days to write my Christmas cards. If you know me for reals, please don’t hold your breath, I think I’ve averaged about 4 personal Christmas cards over the past 5 years. I’ve actually been writing out Christmas cards for my clients, last year I managed to bribe some poor fool at work into doing it from “us”, but this year I work remotely so there’s only me to bribe and only me to whinge and bitch at.

Man. Writing hurts. I think I have a wrist injury. Serious. And my handwriting is POOR. I’ve managed to only chuck one card but I think I have used half a bottle of liquid paper – who even uses liquid paper anymore!? Also, because the cards are sort of slippery my writing is all squiffy and my lines keep dragging upwards to the right. I’ve lost count how many times I have written “I look forward to working with you in 209″. Who needs Plutonium? I have a pen.

My writing is this weird hybrid of printing (in about three different styles as I went to schools in different states and they all had their own way of teaching how to write) and cursive (or running writing as we called it at school), it’s really rather spacky looking. So I decided to see if I could write the whole greeting in cursive on a piece of spare paper – I’ve totally forgotten how to do cursive!

I’m sad. Do kids at school even learn how to write now? I think I am probably not even as bad as some adults are as in my job I do tend to do a lot of not taking during client meetings – again, it does kinds of look like a pen has vomited all over the page and then a pigeon walked in it (you know how they just walk all over the place and round and up and down and sideways and up, down, right, down, left, up?)

So, I’ve decided to become a one-woman mission to bring the writing back. Maybe not the cursive because I actually can’t remember how but 2009 will be the year of the handwritten missive. I am going to write letters and actually post them. I am going to write messages in birthday cards – rather than making Mick write them and just signing my name. I am going to sign my envelopes S.W.A.L.K and my address is going to end in “Australia, The World, The Universe, The Solar System, The Galaxy”.
Ok. Maybe not that far – but I will actually write to people again and I will actually post things again. I invite you to join me dear readers – in fact, would my upcoming birthday not be the best time to start this, I’m not adverse to presents either.

Just joshing – but I do encourage you to pick up a pen and post a letter to a loved one today

Britney doesn’t own crazy you know.

Dearie me. It’s been… well, quite a while since I posted. I’ve been chastised, quite rightly, by Boz and I promise that in 2009 I shall pay some attention to this poor, wee blog.
My problem lately is that I have no ideas… hence blogging about having no ideas *rolls eyes at self*.
My life is really not that exciting, however, you all keep on hanging around and I even got 2 new commenters – the lovely Steph , who sadly but understandably no longer blogs and the gorgeous Mrs Lard. So welcome ladies, pull up a chair and read the archives – my, I used to get drunk a lot didn’t I?

The new pad is going really well however poor Mick is just discovering he has moved in with an absolute loon who has the emotional stability of a 14 year old girl. Does anyone else have this problem? I have my ups and downs, but sometimes the downs can be so down and I can be overly sensitive about ridiculous issues at times. I know this. I know that I can be sulky and snappy and surly. And weepy. But what can I do about it? Should I dust off the Evening Primrose Oil or is that old hat? Does anyone else have this problem? And yes, it does get worse once a month….

To be fair to myself, I am not a total nutjob all the time. I mean, I am nowhere near as good and crazy as Britters got when she shaved her head or was sitting in the gutter crying and wearing that silly hat or when she applied for a job as a cocktail waitress in a bar. Dude – You are Britney, you could own your own island if you wanted to.
Man. She was just fucking batshit crazy at that stage wasn’t she?

However, I digress. I don’t think I need anti-depressants or anything. I don’t want to numb or quell the person that I am, I’d just like to be a bit more even-keeled.