Project Guess the Dinosaur Game!

My Little Monster came up with a gem of an idea for a birthday gift tonight: a Guess the Dinosaur Game! The birthday person will be five and a dino lover. Ooh! I have less than a week to do it so no time for procrastination. Five dinosaurs, one of which will be a mystery dino :-) Can't wait!

"Someday, my prince will come..."

I have been trying to get this post out for about a week but life kept getting in the way -- I'd started writing it following a conversation with my dear friend Wise Light.

Wise had just started seeing an amazing woman who not only was a great match for her but had the capacity to spoil her. And as we talked I tried to remember when I had been spoiled, I mean properly spoiled - a meal in a posh restaurant, a luxurious piece of clothing or jewellery, a trip to the theatre! Shoes!

I came up with zip. This from nearly two decades of marriage.

In that relationship, I was always the one who did the spoiling -- I bought the flowers and gifts, planned the Valentine's dates, organised those adventures just for two, booked the fancy(ish) restuarants. At the time that I did all those things, I didn't mind, but as time wore on, a small part of me wished wistfully that things were otherwise. I buried that voice, tamped down the disappointment, because it was just impossible.

The last time I was a little spoiled was on my last birthday. The loveliest thing about that was that I didn't organise it, plan it, choose it, or pay for it. It was only two lovely meals over two occasions, but I felt cherished. He had also taken the time to restore something as a gift. And not just restore, but customise it. For me. It even came in a gift-wrapped box. He actually knew, not just what I needed, but also what I liked.

To feel that need to be wined and dined, bought expensive gifts and essentially be treated like a rich man's mistress -- I actually felt a bit ashamed. After all, in a perverse way, I was proud that I was the provider, that I could play that role. To then feel the need to coddled and wooed seemed a betrayal of my feminist self. But I think, this need to be shown how precious you are to someone, is universal, regardless of gender or role.

My fantasy spoilage would be this: I would like to be gifted with a customised corset, complete with skirt, accessories and shoes. Then a full make-over by my favourite make-up artist, Ashley Kay Gifford (http://www.primppowderpout.com/). After all that, I would like to be shown off. Preferably at a ball or red carpet event. Something ridiculously over the top. In amongst all this, there would be food. Glorious food. Lovingly sourced and prepared morsels to delight the senses. And to finish? Well, since I had been gift-wrapped so lovingly, it would only be fair to be just as lovingly undone.

PS: The title was inspired by "Once Upon A Time", that TV series which mystifyingly features Robert Carlyle. I am fascinated by it as they have really gone to town with the story of Snow White and Prince Charming. It's such a seductive proposition: that love will conquer all, that true lovers will always find each other, that everything will be alright because they are destined to be together. But underlying all this blind faith, there was one question they'd asked themselves - are we fated always to lose each other?  

I understand that culturally, the Chinese think falling madly in love should be avoided. I wonder if this is true since all the Chinese "love stories" I know are actually tragedies (classic is this one Butterfly Lovers and of course, Madame White Snake) which seem to be warnings. Are they right?

What makes you proud of your mummy? When she does something she's never done before.

This from a four year old. I was moved to speechlessness.

Today I was listening to Rebecca Adlington on Desert Island Discs, on how, at the age of three, not knowing how to swim, she just ran and jumped into a swimming pool, which is exactly what my daughter did at that age, too. And I think, I did as well. (Though I do recall jumping in a pool, not knowing how to swim and doggy-paddling for my life when I was a bit older.)

1970-something. Learning not to drown.

I feel as though I've just done it again - I've jumped into the self-employment pool with only a theoretical grasp of what I'm doing. Doggy-paddling like crazy. I hope I don't run out of juice before I am swimming!

I've just registered on Freelancer.co.uk as a Creative Consultant / Writer / Voice over artist, bid on a couple of jobs, and I've got a couple of meetings lined up with agencies. It's been an education seeing all these projects and seeing all the profiles of the freelances out there.

I am certainly doing something I've never done before, and I hope that my daughter will talk about me with pride. Preferably on Desert Island Discs.

"Allow yourself to accept the precariousness..."

...something more creative might come from it." -- H. Ferguson, writer, polyglot and friend.

It's been 5 days since I became self-employed.

I've been reading the stories of like-minded individuals - thank you Career Shifters - and watching talks about entrepreneurship. 

I've also seen that a fellow creative who was in the same boat as me has taken off! I am so pleased and at the same time slightly envious - that's the competitive side of me growling (down, girl!). 

I'm now registered with three temp agencies and hoping to hear from another I contacted today. The idea is to just keep money coming in while I work on the creative side.

I've been working on my "creative CV" (if sketching and doodling ideas count!), and getting my work online (well, so far, I've managed to rip the damned things off the DVD and in the right aspect ratios). The next step is to pull it altogether. This bit is the tough bit for me. Didn't used to be - the taking action bit. That's what made me an efficient promo producer when it was a job. I wonder if this is damage from crashing all those years ago.

Today, I had the most interesting conversation with two of my dearest friends* -- they've got me thinking about writing something else. It's an intriguing proposition and due to its adult and potentially explosive nature, I am mulling it over.

Dare I do it? And how far could/would/should I take it?

The idea is tantalising and certainly appealing to my inner wild child. Oh, it's not just erotica - that I already do, just not published.

Oooh... I think I will. I think I dare.

*Indispensable, wonderful, amazing and just awesome.