It's practically winning at the Cannes

Oooh, a Beautiful Blogger Award, how lovely! Many thanks to the absolutely maaarvelous Elle for nominating me – I am pleased and bemused in equal measure, as I’m fairly certain I’m not as awesome as she seems to think I am, but who am I to argue?

As far as I understand it, I’m supposed to write seven truths about myself, so if you’re all sitting comfortably, I’ll begin...

1. When I was 5 or 6 years old, I was out with my family – I am mixed race, with a Nigerian father and a Portuguese mother – when we came across a furiously angry middle aged white (English, possibly) woman who proclaimed loudly that their relationship was abhorrent and I was an abomination. The concept of racism was explained to me later. Lovely woman, right?

2. As I am currently signed off with ‘Mental Health Issues’ since November, I spend all of my days writing prose and poetry, drawing, doing Origami (I’m an Origami fiend), reading blogs, watching WWE and smoking copious amounts of cannabis – to numb the constant mundanity of day to day life – doing fuck all is a LOT easier when you’re stoned. I’m waiting for my theatre and special effects makeup course to begin, waiting to see my psychiatrist, waiting until I can be outside without freaking out completely, waiting until I am able to hold down a steady job and, though I never thought I’d say this when I was still a student, I am SO FUCKING BORED. Give me gainful employment! Structure! A reason to wake up in the fucking morning. A purpose!

3. I haven’t thrown away a single item of clothing in about five years. My boyfriend says it’s a symptom of my need for control and contingency plans, but I say it’s just good sense. I mean, what if I need it in another five years! What if it suddenly comes back into style? WHAT IF I discover the PERFECT occasion to wear it in a decade and it’s GONE? I don’t think so. If it rips, I fix it. If it becomes too big for me, I take it in. For example, I have a gorgeous nautical blazer a friend stole from her stepmother and gave to me four years ago as retribution after an argument that I only wore once. Now? Now it’s fucking amazing.

4. During my first bout of anorexia at around 14 and 15, I was never diagnosed. Despite my lowest weight of under 7 stone, I never saw a doctor or a psychiatrist; I never entered recovery and never worked out my issues. When I blacked out one day, my father – who up until that point had been oblivious of my uh ‘condition’ – dealt with it fabulously, flipped out and slapped me around the face. Hard. Demanding that I tell him ‘how I could do this to him’. I was removed from school and quarantined in my home, the internet and phone were locked with a pin number, my keys and phone were confiscated and the windows and door were locked. My existence, for the next two to three months, was one of frequent weighings, beatings, forced feeding and constant scrutiny, as he attempted to force my disorder out of me. After three months, I gave in and did as I was told, like a good little daughter – it was the only way to get my life back.

5. When I was 9 I used to climb scaffolding, really high up. It’s an odd pastime, I know. I stopped after I slipped and fell from just above the first floor onto the ground below – snapping my femur and shattering my kneecap. Which is now mostly made of metal :)

6. When I was little I tried to catch a squirrel. Now, this was not some one off fancy. God, no. I used to have lots of hamsters and I had constructed a habitat for said squirrel by connecting up each clear plastic hamster box thingy with those clear coloured plastic tubes that go with them and put bedding and food and hidey holes etc in each section as well as food and water. I even filled one halfway with soil so the lucky squirrel could bury things. So I went out into a park to try and catch one and I nearly did. But then it bit me and made me bleed and I was very upset. What upset me the most was not the bite, but that my hand jerked and accidentally caught the squirrel's tail and yanked out the fur from halfway up and I was worried I hurt it or affected its balance. I cried all the way home because of that. And I STILL really want a pet squirrel.

7. I could do bad things to Jeff Hardy. I could bite him. And he’d love it. Ahem, maybe I have an odd taste in men, but he is EXACTLY what tickles my fancy. Amazing cheekbones and jaw (bone structure SO does it for me), light coloured eyes, bit of facial hair, longish hair, and not strictly sane *thrust* Oh yeah! Quite like my lovely boyfriend :)


Aaaaaand, now for the awardees!

Alice – Zoete Narcissen: Abrasive personalities are pretty much always the funniest

Zen – Dainty Zen: You have the biggest balls of any girl I know.

Elle – Average Is Not An Option: I LOVE listening to your rambles, you always seem so honest. Also: YUMMUS!

Violet – Shrinking Violet: I think I’ve only commented once, but I read every blog post :)

Now, I know what you’re all thinking... there’s only four, I know. My excuse is that I haven’t been around for very long and don’t read that many people regularly yet. I'm takin' it slooow.
 
So there *blows raspberry*