I liked writing that post. It sort of just happened. I assumed that writing about myself would be terribly hard, but it turns out I'm more of a self-centred worm than I realised (anyone that knows me won't have been surprised, after all, they are all but bit parts in The Smyth Show)
I must confess though that I didn't really say much about me and my gooey insides. About what goes on in my tiny little mind. One day, I'm going to write about how I feel in becoming thirty next year, and about how I'm absolutely terrified, but that's a traumatising post all on its own so I shall save that for a rainy gin-soaked day.
I mentioned before that I hated secondary school and how University was where I started to feel more like me, well in a way that was a great dirty bare faced LIE. I've ALWAYS felt like me.
A lot of people around me talk about how they wish they'd not hidden who they really were, or that they'd done things that at the time would have ruined their street cred. You see, I've never had street cred, I've never been a cool kid, I've always just been the big happy fattener you see before you. And I'm really bloody glad.
The only time I didn't listen to my head was when I was about twelve, I can remember going with one of my super cool new friends into New Look in town to try on some mega hot flared jeans with fringed satin hems à la Gwen Stefani. They were all kinds of ace, and I wanted them HARD. I knew that I was going to have to wait a bit because I hadn't yet got even one of my many beautiful shiny credit cards at that point. So anyway, we left, but something was different: My previously size 10 friend was now looking more of a size 16, It was the elephantitis - IT HAD GOT HER!!!
Except it hadn't, she'd just nicked the jeans. Under her own jeans (These weren't the days of skinny jeans, it must be extremely hard being a jeans thief nowadays) I was mortified, devastated and terrified all at the same time. The police would assume it was me and I would definitely go to prison. This really challenged my tiny mind, I wanted cool friends, but I didn't want to go to a Youth Offenders Prison, even if it meant me ultimately getting in with Brad Pitt and Kevin Bacon.
Then, I heard the quote above, and I realised that actually, life had been a lot easier before the concept of "Cool" and I'd be better off just challenging myself, not being pushed into challenges by other naughty girls.
So where did that leave me? I didn't want to be a cool dude, but I wasn't perpetually sad enough to be a goth. I was (and still hugely am) inept when it comes to any sport other than swimming (hence my enviable shoulders and thighs) to the extent that I fell over throwing a ball the other day (It's a ball, you throw it, where do legs even come into it?!?) So I bumbled through life, just being the slightly weird, terribly dull one with the too short trousers and of course, the fringe. But I was me, always was, always will be.
One of my most favourite, intelligent and short friends knew me through school and describes me at that time as "Fussy". I think my genuine interest in everything, and desire to know all things about all people can come across that way, even now. I can sense myself intermittently irritating people by being a bit too "Lurpak" but I believe in always complimenting where it's due and I fecking love it when someone smiles.
Thankfully, I can now take it when someone criticises who I am, I can even give a good old "Well f*ck you, this is what I do"