Everyday, a Random Day

I have these Random Days. They descend on me quite unannounced. I find myself absolutely powerless to defend myself against days such as these… such as the day that I am currently having right now.

On these Random Days, which seem to occur more frequently than not, I am overwhelmed by a “mysterious something” that immerses, envelopes, consumes my heart. On one hand, this something can accurately be described as fuzzy and warm, mushy and bubbly, and quite probably pink. But what absolutely baffles me is how this seemingly fuzzy, warm, mushy (probably pink) bubbly something (are you still with me?) has the capacity to hit me like a bus, quite literally bringing tears to my eyes. It’s like a tidal wave, it crashes into every part of me until I am absolutely sure that I have drowned in it.

Drowned, and yet, not dead.

In fact, so much more alive.

This something doesn’t have a name. I cannot name it, although I have tried.

It is…

…the urge to hug people.

To hug absolutely every soul on this planet. The kind of hug that people remember, those tight ones, the squeeze-ie ones that whisper “I really do care about you” without whispering at all. I have come to call such days “I-want-to-hug-the-world” days. But I suspect, due to the ever-increasing frequency of these days, that I am becoming a “I-want-to-hug-the-world” person.

I work at a hotel. I’m surrounded by people all day. I work with a diverse team, and have gotten to know them on a personal level.

I wish I could hug them. Every. Single. One.

From our biggest teddy-bear of a waiter

to the timid housekeeper with the wide eyes

to our busy managers trapped up behind their desks

to our sweetest barmen with their naughty smiles

to the singing chef filling the food with cheer

to the office ladies talking nonsense to pass the time (and working very hard).

Some people are pregnant with new life;

Some are facing death in their family;

Some are hiding sad secrets behind their eyes;

Most of them laugh every day, regardless of their lives.

I am inspired by them.

But mostly I just love them.

And I want to hug them. So badly.

So, dear World, if I start to jitter and twitch, if I grin like a psychotic fool, if I start giggling through clenched teeth… this is just the picture of desperate self-restraint and as close to composure as I can come. For inside, I am tackling you with a violently-lovable embrace, I am crushing you with my whole heart, I am pouring out the tidal wave of this “something” that’s drowned me to death and then filled me to overflowing with life.

It can only be Jesus. I, alone, am not capable of such Love.

I am reminded of a gorgeous song, accompanied by an even more gorgeous music video. “Everyday”, by the awesome Dave Matthews Band, came out many years ago… but this will never grow old.Love never expires.

Hugs to you Beautiful People of this Planet! 

Shark Attack!... or wait... no, ummm...

This is astonishing, and tragic - So hectic, it doesn't even fit into my blog page.

Rant of The Day: For The Ladies

Dear Brand Manufacturer,

When you remove a bra design that you have been manufacturing for years from your range, you are not simply discontinuing a style. You are plunging billions of women across the globe into darkness; ripping the proverbial mat from beneath their staggering feet; pushing them over the edge of a cliff, spinning them into a never-ending void of blackness and uncertainty.

There are those of us who find bra-shopping to be a most loathsome task. Those of us who spent our delicate, teen years struggling to find that perfect fit. Comfort, support, confidence. And finally, at the age of 23 – yes twenty-three! – my twelve-year search was rewarded. And, bless you, dear manufacturer, this bra was kept on the market all this time, ensuring my comfort, support and confidence for a blissful five years. Such was my trust your product that my most recent purchase didn’t even warrant a fitting – I simply walked in, grabbed my size, and walk out. (after paying, of course)

This weekend, I dragged my sorry self out to my nearest Edgars in (slightly desperate) search of one of my beloved undergarments only to find that you have discontinued this particular item, and all similar items, replacing your entire range with what I can only call “Granny-bra’s”. Now, some years have passed since my first purchase of my favourite bra, but I resent the underlying suggestion that I should now be moving onto Granny-bra’s. You have left me no choice but to make the drastic move to another brand altogether.

An infuriating hour of trying on what felt like thousands and thousands of bra’s, different sizes, different cuts, and I found myself absolutely confused about what size I really am, sending hysterical messages of despair to my husband about my body, which is obviously deformed beyond human recognition – obviously, if I can’t get a single bra to friggin fit the same way that my old one used to….!!!!!!

*deep breathing*

And so, dear manufacturer, I bid you farewell, and the song “No it isn’t” by the band, +44 is our parting song…

Please understand:

This isn’t just ‘Goodbye’

This is ‘I can’t stand you’