If We Only Live Once

“If we only live once, I want to live with you” ~ OneRepublic

Or, as defined by my dictionary

Live (vb): to show the characteristics of life, be alive


In the parlance of great romantic declarations “I want to live with you” probably lacks a little something in comparison to “marry me”. As Julia Roberts says in Pretty Woman “But never in all the time… that I had this dream did the knight say to me, “Come on, baby, I’ll put you up in a great condo.”

But that’s really not what that line is about at all. To live is to breathe, to experience, to see and wonder at the world; to cry at the marvels and the cruelty; to stop dead at the sight of something so beautiful that all you can do is gaze. And the very best thing is that there are all these other people in the world that you can choose to share it with.

And choose is a key word. There are all sorts of people we interact with in our lives that we would prefer not to but can’t avoid. They are to be endured. But to choose the ones that we want, the ones we want to turn to say “wasn’t that amazing” or even to not speak at all, just know that there is someone else, maybe next to you, maybe miles away, but experiencing exactly the same thing and feeling it exactly as you are. That’s to live with someone, that’s to have someone in your life.

You don’t need someone in your physical space to live with them, you can be in the same room and still be poles apart, no matter how close you are. I don’t need someone in my space or my life to validate me but I love meeting and knowing people who I can share with my life with. And I’ve never had a more timely reminder of that than this year.

There’s a whole world out there to explore. So, to all the people I know, love, interact with, share with; I want to live with you.

Happy New Year.





“You’d better smile, smile, smile, smile, smile, smile, smile, smile, smile, smile, smile, smile, smile, smile, smile, smile” ~ The Supernaturals

Or, as defined by my dictionary

Smile (n): a facial expression in which the corners of the mouth are turned up, showing amusement or friendliness


I was raised to count to look on the bright side of things, to be grateful for what I had, to count my blessings. The fact I write so many blogs about things that make me happy I believe this testament to this outlook, especially a lot of those were written at times when I was desperately low but still searching for something to lift me up.

There are schools of thought that state that smiling can make you feel better. I happen to agree with this. If I smile, even when I am feeling down, it makes me feel better. That’s not the same thing as putting a brave face on things when life is really bad or to use it as a mask for depression – those feelings are important and should always be acknowledged. More pain and heartache almost always comes from keeping something suppressed.

However, a bit of ‘count your blessings’ mentality is also healthy. Whatever your problems are, they are problematic to you, whether others have it better or worse. I have no truck with grief competitions. But, equally, there will be blessings you can count, things you can be grateful for, small items of beauty in every day life that can catch your eye and are worth smiling about. And especially when you are a little down but ok really. Smiling, finding something of good cheer, is much more enjoyable than wallowing in negatvity.

Watch this


And smile.





“Beauty’s only skin deep, yeah, yeah, yeah. I know that…
Beauty’s only skin deep, yes indeed.” ~ The Temptations

Or, as defined by my dictionary

Beauty (n): the combination of all the qualities of a person or thing that delight the senses and mind


I can’t recall I’ve ever looked up a word for this blog and been quite so delighted with the definition as I have with this one. Go on, read it again…doesn’t it make you curl your toes with delight?

Anyway, in the current media climate, one cannot write a blog on the subject of beauty without mentioning Ms Samantha Brick. As far as I can tell, Ms Brick is an ok looking woman who has maximised her assets in order to achieve what she wanted, namely a wealth, career, material goods, husband. It seems to have worked for her. Fair enough. I wouldn’t mind a bit more money & a Mulberry Alexa myself but faced with the option of the bag versus holiday/good times with friends/a few more visits home to see my mum? Yeah, no competition at all.

The vitriol launched at Ms Brick has been deeply unpleasant. She seems to think she is hated because she is beautiful. No, it is that society don’t like women climbing over other women to get to the top then back-stabbing them. That is deeply unattractive behaviour. If the materialism and the domineering husband have made Ms Brick happy then good for her. Many of us would choose friendlier, less back-stabby routes to get what we want.

Sadly, “society”, in the UK at least, also doesn’t like women talking about how attractive they are. Thing is, it never works the other way round either. There was uproar about how good Helen Mirren dared to look in a bikini at 60+ (or whatever age the great Mirren is, I haven’t researched her age, but I remember she looked fab in that bikini). Posh Spice doesn’t smile on photos cos she knows she doesn’t look good. Yet she gets slated all the time for this. You ever seen a photo of her smiling? I have. She’s right, her smiling face does not work in photos. She looks great all the same. And heaven help any famous woman, especially a model, if she dares to get her figure back quickly after having a baby…

Women, it seems at the moment, can’t win. We look good and talk about it. Doom. We look good and self-deprecate. Doom. We just look good and don’t say a word. Doom. This mentality has to stop somewhere. Please?

Strangely, the idea for this post came to me because of the cats. If you follow me on Twitter you’ll know that I have a regular cat visit called RC. He is, by anyone standards, a gorgeous cat.  But this weekend there’s been a new ginger tom on the season, whom I named Macavity. The two of them had a stand off this morning. RC flattened his ears & hissed at Macavity like a demon. This is perfectly natural behaviour; his space, he feels threatened. Yet it was the one and only time I’ve ever seen this cat look ugly.

So maybe this pulling down of others we humans do is just our own version of the cat flattening the ears & hissing? Can we rise above the natural instinct of being threatened by others? Or do we need to yowl those that we perceive as a threat into submission?

It’s an ugly subject, I know. Thoughts, my darlings, on a postcard-shaped comment box as always…