Day Three...

This morning I found the diary I'd kept as a thirteen year old. I sat and read the whole thing in one sitting as it was bloody riveting! Not, sadly, because it was full of intrigue and mystery, or because it was brilliantly witty (it WASN'T) but because I couldn't really believe that the person in there had ever been me. It was surreal, all those long forgotten feelings came rushing to the surface to remind me that no matter how far you think you've come, every incarnation you've ever been is still buried somewhere deep inside. What a scary fact.
One of the (many) weird things it made me think of was just how grown up I thought I was at that age! The older I get the easier it is to forget that kids really don't stay innocent for very long at all. Practically the whole ruddy thing is about BOYS. Lots of them. And each one I am desperately and hopelessly in love with - for about a week. Then I move easily onto my next undying crush. I was tickled by how if my feelings for someone weren't reciprocated instantly I completely lost interest in them! Ha, so fickle. I never have been someone who wanted to be in anyone's gang who doesn't want to be in mine. Teflon-coated ego!
Another thing I was surprised at was just how shallow and vacuous I was. I realise that there aren't many young teenagers with hidden depths but, good god; I'm just a walking, talking hormone!
I also note that I seem to have been a bit mean. I'm ready to admit that I was many unpleasant things as a child, bossy, loud, opinionated, precocious, and a general little madam (most of which I still am) but I've also learned with time that I wasn't all bad... I'd also claim that I was loyal, fearless, fun, tough and charming. The one thing I believed I wasn't was MEAN. But it turns out that I really was a bit, as my embarrassing diary testifies.
A few years ago a girl walked up to me in a club and accused me of having made her life hell. I only vaguely recognised her and had to ask someone else for her name. I spent the following weeks absolutely mortified and checked with all my friends from childhood that she was mistaken, wasn't she? I still have no recollection of ever bullying this girl, in fact I can't think of any specific memories with her in them, in my mind she was simply another member of my drama group (see, a performing arts brat too - it just gets better!). However there are other incidents in my diary involving other people that solidify my status as a bit of a cow. I can no longer live in denial.
So, the question is, what do I do with this proof? How should I atone for my past wrongs and is it even possible? I think I feel a little better having told you, my anonymous reader, so that's a start. Is it helpful to carry around with us guilt that we can do nothing about? Will it help me be a better, kinder person in future to always bear in mind that long ago I hurt someones feelings intentionally? Or is this simply what being a kid is all about? Don't we have to make mistakes in the first place in order to learn from them? I truly am sorry for my crappy behaviour but I also know that I have my fair share of memories where I was on the receiving end of meanness and I don't choose to spend my time brooding over that. Nor would I ever approach a grown woman in a public place and chastise her for something that happened 15 years ago. Perhaps all I can really do is keep that little meanie madam hidden somewhere inside me for the rest of my life and make sure that the other, better versions of myself keep her squashed there forever. I promise to try...

The Second One

Sooooo, day two of my blogging adventures and still I haven't a clue of what I want to write about. I may have to simply resort to telling you about one of the things in life that I love.
I love...
Eating chunky peanut butter straight out of the jar using my finger. For some reason it tastes a million times better this way. I think it's exciting because of the memory of being yelled at for doing it as a kid. I'm still utterly thrilled at the idea that this is MY jar of peanut butter, in MY fridge, and I can eat it in any piggy old way I choose to.
On a similar note one of the main reasons (if not THE main reason) I had for desperately wanting to be a 'grown-up' was the undeniably delicious thought that one day I'd be able to purchase a tub of Philadelphia cheese and eat the whole bloody lot in one sitting if I wanted to. I almost couldn't wrap my head around the freedom of being able to just buy it and eat it all WITHOUT GETTING DONE! I honestly don't believe this buzz will ever wear off, and I'm almost thirty *shhhhhh*

I think I just may be a glutton... but a happy one.

The Beginning

So here it is, my very first blog. I've been meaning to start this for such a long time but as I'm incurably lazy I never got around to it. Most of my life takes place in my head, there's so many brilliant things I've thought about doing but putting them into actuality never seems to happen. I don't mind so much. At least my imagination isn't broken. The problem I have is that although I've wanted to blog for a while I never had any idea of what on earth I'd write about. I know that most people choose a subject or a theme but I'm afraid I have neither. What I DO have though is a great recipe for burgers... yep you heard, burgers. This was what I made for dinner last night, it was was yummy, simple and I think you should try it.

REGRUB BURGER
Serves 2

Splash of olive oil
300g Minced Beef
Half a chopped onion
1 Egg
Handful of breadcrumbs
Cumin
Mustard
4 Burger Baps

Preheat the oven to 200C. Grease a baking tray with the olive oil. Mix the beef, onion, egg, breadcrumbs, cumin, mustard and salt & pepper in a bowl with your hands then divide into four burger shapes onto the baking tray. Bake in the oven for 25 minutes, turning once halfway through.

I like mine with lettuce tomato & mayonnaise, my chap likes them with a solitary dollop of ketchup. Whatever works for you, enjoy!

And that's it, my very first blog post is born! I wonder what will happen next time...
Till then, ta ta.