Remembering the past and the future

Wow it's cold today. It's also sunny and bright. I am wearing three million layers and my toes are cold.

Today is about remembering the past, but also remembering there's a future. Remembering the amazing things that have happened, but also remembering to actively go out and seek more amazing things.

Right now, there are lots of amazing things in my life. I have my house, I have my health, and there's this guy who makes me smile without even trying. I have this amazing sense of calm about who I am and what I am doing here.

There’s one person who I know would be happy about this – London Uncle. Especially if he thought back to the scared 16 year old here on work experience, who didn't even want to buy a tube ticket on her own.

He came with me that day, kept me company, showed me what to do, and in the years that followed, when I showed no sign of ever leaving, drank beer with me while watching Grand Designs, was always very polite about my badly-cooked potatoes, embraced my love of 80s movies – Flashdance – and gave me a quirky perspective on life that I will always treasure.

He and London Aunt showed me London through their eyes, and even though I've been here 8 years on my own, it's still their view I share.

Today when I see London, I must remember to thank London Uncle for helping me love this amazing city. He'll always be a part of it... and so will I.

Making the deafness interview

It's Monday!

*fake crowd cheering!

But what a lovely weekend I had!

Friday night was the leaving party of CK – London Cousins' au pair, who quite frankly is also a member of our family. We will miss her!

Then Saturday, I drove up to The Wild West Erm... Country for Jenny M's birthday party. As with all my friends, she's perpetually 21.

That night, we went to another birthday party where danced the night away, and on a rare breather moment when I was sat down, a guy approached me.

He said something – I didn't hear him. He said something again and slowly, I realised he was chatting me up!

As those words were: 'Would you like to dance?'

Haha!

He was already visibly shaken by my lack of comprehension surrounding the situation, so I said yes, but knew that Jenny M and co would also be there, too. So off we went.

And so we danced, and he talked in my ear, and I smiled politely, and we danced some more. And then, when he had obviously had enough of this non-responsive girl, he started bust some moves. And oh boy, what moves they were.

One of them, I swear, involved grabbing his ankle and kind of hopping around the dance floor – it was the most bizarre thing I have EVER seen in my life.

I had to leave the dance floor for fear of being hopped on, or dying laughing.

But what was wonderful was that I felt absolutely no reason to tell him about my deafness. I just wasn't that worried about whether he knew or not. And this is a fantastic gauge as to whether I like someone.

If I do like someone, they'll know about my hearing loss as soon as possible, to ensure that it doesn't stuff anything up. Of course that doesn't stop other things, such as alcoholic amnesia, shyness, and the ability to say all the wrong sentences – usually consecutively, for maximum effect – jeopardising the situation, but at least I know I can't blame my ears!

My deafness is like a first interview for both parties, and if we both get past that stage unscathed, well a second date may be just the thing!

Thank you for my friends

Today is thankful Friday and I am thankful for my amazing inner circle.

As written about last year, these are the people you could count on for anything, anytime, anywhere, and as I'm discovering this week, I'm blessed with a pretty good one.

This week, NikNak, for example, cooked me a fabulous dinner and dispensed equally amazing advice. Gym Buddy drowned her sorrows in tea and cake last night on the discovery that our highlight of the week, Zumba class, was full up!

*sob

And Tigger, well he just keeps me smiling daily with his boundless energy. And that's just to name a few.

Whenever I feel disheartened about October, I just look at my friends and think, it really can't be that bad if I'm surrounded by so many wonderful people.

And that is what I am thankful for...

Are the hearing people panicking?

I have news:

Last night we won the quiz...

Hurrah!

Although, actually, seeing as I barely heard any of it and gave two wrong answers, I think it's safe to say that I didn't personally win the quiz. But, from being last in the first half, we made an amazing recovery and somehow hit first place!

See, I told you those hard, hard of hearing things you do get easier over time!

And other good news? Well, the Chilean miners are on their way out, and they look amazing considering what they've been through these last few months. The subtitles are not great on the news reports, which is quite understandable, so I've been watching the pictures and it's almost overwhelming to see them and all their families reunited.

Anyway, the oddest thing happened on my way to work this morning. My bus broke down, in the middle of a massively busy street in Central London. First of all it came to a shuddering halt with me on the top deck. I sat awhile, engrossed in a MSN messenger conversation I was having, when I realised that we were not moving. And so I did what I usually do when things like this happen, I look around at other peoples’ faces to gauge their reactions – non-plussed means don’t panic, while wide-eyed means something terrible has happened.

But get this, I was the only person on the bus. So I had no clue what was going on!

I legged it downstairs to find the poor bus driver frantically turning the engine over with little success, and hung around hoping he’d noticed his lone passenger. And thankfully, he did and when there was a gap in the traffic, he opened the doors and I made a break for it.

He was talking to me the whole time, but I have no clue what he was saying – although I am really hoping it wasn’t, ‘Get help, please!’ because, thinking there must be bus emergency people for these things, I didn’t. Whoops!

It’s the first time ever that I haven’t had hearing people’s faces to rely on when I’m not sure of a situation and I didn’t stress out. And this, I was mightily happy about, because jumping off a bus, stressed, into a busy rush-hour street is a recipe of erm… almost certain death.

And so it seems I am on a learning curve this week – how fabulous!

Better check back tomorrow and see if I’ve finally learned how to Zumba, eh?

Not too deaf to dream

Today’s blog is coming to you from a teenage boy's bedroom...

Erm, actually, I am on a bus that smells like a teenage boy's bedroom...

There are also enough boys surrounding me that I feel like I am in a teenage boys' boarding school dormitory – something that would be wrong on so many levels!!

From my seat at the back of the bus, I am barely visible above the sea of sports bags, creatively gelled hair and haze of Lynx. It's a truly bizarre experience, and probably a small mercy that I cannot eavesdrop their conversation...

What a difference 10 minutes makes – this is deafinitely the last time I get the 8am bus to work!

Anyway, today I have two things happening that as a deaf person I find difficult. One is a haircut and the other is the pub quiz.

The former is a minefield of mishaps. From not hearing the 'Is the water ok?' question, to trying to move my head to lipread and causing wonky layers – over the years I've had my fair share of haircutting drama. But for the last 4 years, I've solved that by going to the same fab hairdresser. She really is amazing and now she knows I am deaf, the only thing I feel tense about is whether I'll like the finished style.

And the pub quiz? Well, as any hard of hearing person will tell you, these are always tricky to follow, and by the time someone has relayed the question to you, some other smart person had answered it, so you become something of an echo.

GB Man and The Singing Swede are very good at helping me with this though, and so now, very occasionally I actually get to bask in the glory of answering a question, rather than just answering 3 minutes after someone else has answered it.

It’s all about being proactive about your deafness though when it comes to situations like these. And it's also about not giving a toss about what other people think.

I mean, now my Zumba instructor knows I can't hear, I have a space at the front of the class reserved just for me. This is great, I love it!

But as the class is very full, I can feel the icy stares of the other people vying for my vantage point, and wonder if they’re thinking I am some sort of Zumba wannabe. I may well be a Zumba wannabe, but this not the reason I’m hogging the front row.

Another thing that’s important, is remembering that by doing these challenging things over and over again, they do get easier. And not only do they get easier, but they become enjoyable. And it is with this thought, that I am going to resume a couple of dreams that have fallen by the wayside over the years, after being labelled too hard because of my deafness.

So look out over the next few months and you’ll see how I get on!

You don't need to hear ballet

Today I am sleepy for a Monday morning – and when I am sleepy, I am more deaf.

I am also scatty, and this has seen me sign off an important email with a highly inappropriate ‘Lots of love’ this morning…

*cringe

So, I had a brilliant weekend – The Rents came down and I went to see the ballet Onegin at Covent Garden. The standard of the dancing was amazing, I couldn’t fault it, but the storyline is bleak. Basically in a nutshell it goes like this:

Man is cad…
Man makes woman fall in love with her…
Man breaks woman’s heart by flirting with her sister…
Man shoots her sister’s fiancé…
Woman moves on, gets married and just when she’s happy, Man pops up again and throws everything into turmoil…
Luckily, Woman comes to senses and tells him where to go…

It was 2½ hours of tension!

But I love going to the ballet, because I really don’t need to hear for it. I can just watch the dancing and enjoy the story and I am on equal footing with everyone else in the audience – better footing often as I get to go so much I know what’s going on more. I actually forget I am deaf when I am there, which can only be a good thing, can’t it?

And then yesterday evening, well I had a great time… and that is all you need to know for now.

Nobody puts Deafinitely Girly in a deaf box

Sometimes I get so frustrated when people put me in a box labelled deaf without really checking what that means.

It’s the same as when you meet an old friend of your parents’ who you haven’t seen since your teenage years and she asks you if your bedroom is still messy and comments on how your thunder thighs have miraculously disappeared…

Some people cannot get away from putting you in a box and keeping you there.

You see, for some time now, I have strived to prove that I can work outside this box. I have fought to ensure that no finger could ever be pointed at my deafness when it came to judging me.

I mean, sure, my deafness makes me less chatty on the phone, but to my knowledge, some hearing people aren’t chatty on the phone, either.

Sometimes I wonder what I should do about this living in a box thing – should I work with it? Get it some comfy cushions, make myself right at home, play up to the illusion that I’m going nowhere fast. Or should I throw the damn box out of the window and continue the daily fight to prove that putting people in boxes – no matter who they are or what they do – is a very outmoded way of thinking?

I’ve fought for lots of changes over the years – not just when it comes to changing people's perceptions about the state of my bedroom – and I know that in order to do this, you need commitment, you need thick skin and you need to have a love of banging your head against a brick wall.

You also need a blog – because it is through writing things down that you come to realise that of course things are worth fighting for, and of course I shouldn’t make myself at home in this crappy box labelled ‘deaf and going nowhere fast’.

Nobody puts DG in a box. So look out world, here I come!

I'm really not that deaf aware

Well, what a fabulous week I am having!

Every evening makes me smile at the moment.

Last night, Fab Friend came to stay and we went to the best Thai restaurant in the whole of London, which happens to be two minutes from my flat.

Fab Friend, as regular readers will know, is also deaf and when we get together we automatically look to the other one to do the job of our ears, even though we're both incapable of fulfilling this role.

So last night, when the softly-spoken waitress came over and started speaking, I looked at her and she looked at me awaiting a translation before we both burst out laughing at our complete lack of deaf awareness.

Then, once back at my flat, I started talking to her from another room... again a completely bizarre thing to do, as I get mad when people do this to me!

But it got me thinking about why we both forget the other one can't hear too. It might be because in our world, we are minority. Except when we go out with each other, there is always someone to translate the waiter, tell us what's going on, or hear us yelling from another room.

And if I can't be deaf aware, then it occurred to me how unfair it was to expect other people to be immediately deaf aware. So here's my suggestion: give hearing peeps a break for getting it wrong sometimes, and if you see Fab Friend and I out for dinner, please can you tell us what the waitress just said!

Deafinitely Girly's got writers' block

Deafinitely Girly has been awfully quiet recently, I know.

It’s odd… I have just got complete writers’ block – the kind that I expect to last a day, but in fact has lasted a week and is showing no signs of going away.

October, as many of you will know, is a funny month for me. It’s had its fair share of dramas over the years, namely 30 years ago when I turned up, and like I said the other day, this year I have new plans for October.

But I do wonder if it’s October that’s causing my writers’ block – and if it is, what do I do about it?

At university, my writing tutor advised those of us suffering from writers’ block to write naked with an unlit cigarette in your mouth. She swore by this method, but seeing as I do most of my writing on the bus, I’m not sure it’s going to work for me – although it could make the journey a little more interesting for other people.

Methods I have used over the years include writing in pink ink – always works, writing 10 words in exchange for 1 square of chocolate – I know, I can actually bribe myself, and just writing nonsense until it starts to take form. And that is the method I am trying today.

Here is my nonsense. Let’s hope it works and I’m back on form tomorrow, eh?

Thankful Friday

Even though it's rainy I'm still feeling thankful on this Friday.

Why?

Because every cloud has a silver lining, and as rain clouds are grey – perhaps they're silver inside!

I'm mostly thankful that I have a fun evening ahead with Gym Buddy and Web Whizz – we're having a night in of DVDs, junk food and wine to undo all the good work we've been doing at the gym recently.

I am also thankful that it's October – for this year I am rewriting my fortunes in October. I am making it a month of good times, good luck and good health. I refuse to have another crappy October. Or as someone said to me the other weekend... Don't think of elephants.

So, here's to a positive October, and the end of a very long week.

Have a great weekend everyone.

The lipreading reflex

It’s raining!

Harumph!

But on a positive note, this morning, after a week of head scratching, I finally remembered that I had not lost all my winter jumpers, I had merely packed them away during the summer.

This meant, that when I remembered where, I discovered a whole load of fabulous clothes I hasn’t seen since May! It’s like I’ve just been shopping, but without the credit card hit!

Anyway, today I want to talk about my dancing. You see, I’ve been going to Zumba class for two months now and, while I’ve got the moves – sort of – I’m lacking finesse...

This is mainly because no matter what move I do, my eyes are always on the instructor.

So my body is going one way, but my head is always going another, and this makes me look very strange – kinda like a jiving plank of wood.

The problem is, staring at people in order to hear what they are saying is a reflex that I just can’t shake off. It’s as strong as the old knee and hammer one at the doctors. It is literally physically impossible for me not to look at the person I am trying to hear.

I haven’t actually told my Zumba instructor I can’t hear, mainly because I never got around to it, and now, two months on, it seems a bit random to suddenly let her know. But I do wonder if I freak her out by staring at her from start to finish instead of looking at my hands or the ceiling, which is the head movement most of the dances seem to require.

I’ve actually tried practising at home – such is my desire to actually be good at this – and, when there’s no one to try and hear, my head definitely goes in the right direction.

So I’ve just got to work on breaking the reflex in class now. Perhaps over time as I learn the steps more, it’ll get easier. And in the meantime, I’ll just get my hip shaking and grapevines good, so that when my head eventually decides to join in, I’ll have it all...

…or something!

Hearing Mt. Desolation

What do you get it you cross two members of Keane with the Killers, Mumford & Sons, and Noah & the Whale, and a whole host of additionally talented musicians?

A band called Mt Desolation it seems!

And, while today, I am very, very deaf, it was completely and utterly worth it to see them in concert last night.

Being a not-very-hearing person, I'm not going to tell you how the lyrics moved me, as I didn't hear them. But I did hear the harmonies, the amazing bass and lower octaves of the treble and was able to musically-read the harmonica and violin.

We arrived early – yes, I know, we’re so cool – and took our places in the venue. It was at this moment that The Singing Swede and I realised we had positioned ourselves under the ONLY air conditioning unit in the entire building and it was blowing cold air right on our heads – I’m not joking, I looked like I was in a Celine Dion music video.

So the night began with me trying to look cool with a scarf draped over my head to keep the polar chill off my neck and my hair from flapping around wildly, and a group called The Staves. Three sisters, three amazing voices, two of them ex-Grange Hill – all wonderfully talented. As they shyly took to the stage, I had no idea what to expect, but as they performed each song, I felt my mood being raised an octave at a time. You can’t help but join in their sweet enthusiasm for what they do.

I also felt this bizarre jealousy that they could sing like that, before remembering that even before I went deaf, I could never sing like that!

And then, all of a sudden, Mt Desolation took to the stage, with me recognising only the main man, Jesse Quin – the bass guitarist from Keane, and the guitarist from The Staves – I know, I know, I should know more of them than this!

And what did I think? Well, they were amazing. There was incredible ‘audience body language lust’ going on for the bloke on the left, who I discovered was also in Keane and the girls at the front were in danger of giving themselves brain haemorrhages from dancing around so much. But it was brilliant.

From upbeat folky jigs to lilting melodies, I loved it all. It was captivating, entertaining and left me wondering why I don’t go to gigs more often. And the best bit? Nothing got too loud. And this was not because it wasn’t too loud, it’s because my hearing has recently got worse, and the recruitment I used to suffer, seems to be diminishing with it.

While this is a pain in many ways – it meant last night really was the best gig I’ve even been to. Lets hope my hearing hangs around until they’re next on tour again!

Deafinitely Girly does DIY

Another great weekend always signals the start of another week. But I'm not going think about that, because for now, I am basking in the glory of my slightly cowboy DIY success.

You see, being exceptionally blind as well as deaf, means that in the morning I get up, switch on my shower and hop in, all without my glasses on. I then leave the bathroom and go and get dressed.

But on Saturday morning, I had my glasses on when I turned the shower on and quickly noticed a torrent of water pouring out the corner of my shower door, down the wall, behind the skirting, before disappearing.

Argh!

Really just wanting a shower and not having to do DIY, I begrudgingly got my screwdriver out of the cutlery drawer and took off the skirting board and side panel of the bath to assess the problem. And there I found a very soggy wooden floor...

Argh

Amazingly though, this has clearly been going on for ages, as nothing new has happened to my shower door, so I was somewhat relieved my neighbour hasn't had a ceiling flood courtesy of me!

In the process of trying to fix the problem, I drowned my entire bathroom when the shower head took on a life of its own and flew around the bath spraying water as far as my hall carpet.

Argh

And after this? Well, I declared war...

I got out my gun, my er, silicone gun and I sealed the hell out of my shower door...

The result?! No leak. Hurrah! Well, from that bit of my bath anyway. The other leak? A takeaway carton seems to be for catching that for now – until I can get someone in who's answer for everything isn't just silicone sealant!

*blush!

Deafinitely Girly's on a mission

It’s official: I’m a deaf girl on a mission!

Recently, as I’m sure you’ll be aware, my posts have been a little thin on the ground here at deafinitelygirly.com and this has been frustrating me.

While I can, to some extent blame my busy day job, manic social life and sometimes crohn’s episodes, deep down I know that really, if I want to get something down on here, nothing will stop me.

But recently, I’ve been without a project. I’ve become complacent in a world of bad services for deaf and hard of hearing people. I’ve stopped complaining.

But not anymore. After a very successful brainstorm yesterday, I’ve rediscovered two battles that are worth fighting… or at least pitching politely to the people in question. And that’s exactly what I am going to do.

And while it’s all a little bit undercover right now, I can tell you that I am starting with Richard Branson. Anyone got his email address?!

Close encounters of the male kind

So, it turns out I am not so deaf that I cannot hear the roadworks that started up VERY loudly outside my bedroom window this morning. One peep through the blind confirmed that they were digging up a road that looks perfectly OK to me, but clearly needs thousands of pounds of my council tax spent to make it better – I tell you what, it had better be paved with gold by the time I get home tonight.

Harumph!

Anyway, on a more positive note, after something of a dry spell on the man front, I finally got one to notice me! Hurrah! Although, maybe not in the way I had hoped…

You see, there I was, striding purposefully to work, when on rounding the corner I almost bumped into a guy coming the other way. My reaction was to simply stop and let him negotiate his way around me, so that we weren’t to-ing and fro-ing in the same directions like often embarrassingly happens.

His reaction however, was to jump in the air, drop his rucksack and yelp!

*blush

Never in all my life has a man reacted to an encounter with me like this and I was so startled I burst out laughing, which then caused the strange man to pick up his rucksack and make a bolt for it.

I hastily checked my reflection, wondering if his fear had been caused by a lack of make-up, my concealer still being blobbed not blended or my mascara heading southwards, but everything was as it should be.

So heaven only knows what made him scream and run for the hills, but I’m hoping my next close encounter with the male kind will be slight more successful…

I’ll keep you posted!

A hearing headache

Do you know, I think last week's headache signalled a drop in my hearing.

I'd forgotten that this used to happen in my teens. I'd get a crashing headache, which was a clue that either my eyesight or hearing was on the move.

And since the floating triangles incident, my eyesight has been fine. And my hearing?

Well, let's look at the evidence...

Recently I've been watching my TV practically on mute. It's as thought the sound is irrelevant – all I want is subtitles

I've also forgotten we have a radio at work, when this time last year I was able to hum along to the bass tune.

And perhaps the most indicative of a hearing shift – loud noises are not making me fall over anymore… mainly because nothing seems very loud.

On Saturday for example, while out with Gingerbread Man and The Singing Swede, an ambulance went past full pelt. I braced myself for the noise, but none came. ‘Ah well,’ I thought to myself. ‘Perhaps the siren wasn't on.’ But then I noticed the Singjng Swede had her fingers in her ears.

Yup, there was deafinitely siren. And I heard nothing – not even up close! I mean, I'm used to not hearing sirens from afar, hence all the mishaps with emergency vehicles. But this? Well maybe that explains my close encounter with the police car earlier this month.

So this week, I'm going to have a ‘What can’t I hear anymore’ week, and report back. And if the evidence continues?

I think it's time for a trip to the audiologist! Don't you?

Today is Thankful Friday…

…and I am thankful that I no longer have crazy vision! I am not however thankful that I haven't had time to blog this week – it's not good enough and personally I blame the great books I've been reading on the bus instead of writing my blog.
Will do better next week – I promise!
DGx

The day I couldn't see or hear!

So, I know I've been a little quiet this week...

I had been looking forward to telling you all about my wonderful weekend of seeing Penthouse Flatmate, SuperKathyFragileMystic, The Photographer, and Blackberry the poodle...

But then on Monday, while sat at work, I was suddenly aware that I couldn't see properly – it was as though someone was letting too much light into my eyes. Within 10 minutes, this had progressed to flashing triangles across my vision, and at that point I was starting to panic. You see, if I can't see anything, I can't lipread, and if I can't do that, I can’t hear. And if I can’t hear or see, I am, in my opinion, utterly screwed.

Luckily a savvy work colleague was on hand to tell me she thought I was experiencing aura symptoms – what you get just before a migraine...

And boom! Just like that, a headache appeared.

And, 36 hours later, it's still here. Better than it was before however, which is relief, but still not gone, which is annoying.

Having never had migraine before, I wasn't really sure what to expect in terms of it going away. But it can apparently take a while, so I'm not too worried at the moment.

The most relieving thing is that I can see again. I have never been so thankful for anything in my entire life.

When I couldn’t see, I felt almost claustrophobic in my own head – a mass of panic spreading through me, wondering what on earth was going on. I never, ever want to feel that way again.

But anyway, back to the weekend – it was perfect in every single way. So nice to catch up with good friends, eat great food, meet new little people, hear about Goddaughter’s first week at school and congrats Penthouse Flatmate on becoming a Yummy Mummy of three.

And then, there was Blackberry! Well, regular readers will know I am definitely a cat person – but on meeting Blackberry the poodle, all that changed! She is without a doubt the most fabulous canine on the planet. While sitting in the sunshine of SKFM’s cottage courtyard on Sunday, Blackberry decided it was cuddle time, and before I knew it, I had a full-size poodle on my lap, trying her hardest to shrink to fit! It was brilliant – and the most amazing experience to spend time with such a loveable, intelligent dog.

So scrap the cat plan, I’m getting a Blackberry of my very own – and unlike the phone variety, this one won’t be pink!

Deafinitely Girly and the deaf mouse!

Today is Thankful Friday, and I am thankful that my parents are some of the few people I can still hear on the telephone.

And here’s why…

Regular readers may already know that I have an unwelcome housemate living with me at the moment – a mouse!

Now, not wanting to kill it, I wondered if I could drive it out with a special humane mouse repellent kit, which included a powder that the mouse didn’t like the smell of and an Ultrasound Mouse Repellent thing that plugs in and emits a high-pitched noise that mice apparently hate.

Well, get this – it appears I have a deaf mousemate! This is no joke because this mouse shows no sign of disappearing. And last night, it was almost as if it was trying to prove a point about this, because while I was in bed reading my new Katie Fforde book, which is splendid by the way, the mouse brazenly scurried into my bedroom!

And what did I do? Well, I screamed of course. And that was when I realised that this mouse cannot be profoundly deaf, just hard of hearing, as it turned on its heels and legged it under my wardrobe!

Oh joy!

And then, I did what any considerate human being does at 12.30am on a school night – I rang my parents!

Actually, I don’t know why I did this – they live 100 miles away from me, so are hardly handy for mouse catching. Call it reflex, call it needing to share my fear, call it these are the only people in the world who are likely to not kill me for calling them at this time, call it what you like, but call them, I did!

And, of course, they were asleep but thankfully, (phew!) saw the funny side to the fact that I felt the need to share with them my evening of mousecapades…

So then, what of the mouse? Well, he clearly doesn’t have an aversion to high-pitched noises, which I guess makes two of us, but seriously, there is no room for him in my house. He’s very badly behaved and keeps pulling tufts of carpet up for his bedding.

If he really is a hard of hearing mouse, maybe I should get a low-frequency repeller and see if that works…

Otherwise, there’s only one thing for it…

I’m getting a cat!

Be thankful for what you have... and say a little prayer

This morning I watched the most moving film, which has prompted me to actually post it here, a first for Deafinitely Girly. I never normally post films as they are never normally subtitled, but this one is – beautifully so.

It was a heartfelt birthday message from an Australian guy to his wife on her birthday, done in the Love Actually style where Andrew Lincoln tells Kiera Knightly he loves her.

The heartbreaking thing is that Kristian is fighting liver cancer and has two little boys, who also feature in the film.

Watching it, made me resolve to be thankful for every day I have and live my life to the full, whatever is thrown at me.

And now, I'm keeping everything crossed that Kristian gets to do that for a long time to come, too.

Rachel's Birthday Video from Kristian Anderson on Vimeo.

See the full film on Kristian's blog HERE

Deafinitely Girly and the siren she didn't hear!

Today I walked to work as all the tube people in my area were on my bus because of the strike.

GAH!

But honestly, I think I probably still beat them all to the centre of town as there were crowds of people clamouring to get on at each stop and the bus is always full from my stop even when there’s not a tube strike.

While tiring, especially as I have a lunchtime Body Combat class too, the walk was quite relaxing. There were lots of things to see, including people doing the same thing as me but in heels!

Anyway, yesterday’s lack of blog means I haven’t yet written about my brilliant weekend oop north with Best Friend And Head Girl and her family. It was my godson Petit Pois’ first birthday so I was keen to visit and give him birthday wishes personally.

He’s gorgeous, as is his older brother, Northern Boy, and we had a crazy weekend of midnight baking – the decoration of which was somewhat interesting – and mid-afternoon naps on the sofa when I could keep going no more!

I have ultimate respect for BFAHG – she keeps going on minimal sleep and has a very lovely happy family. I don’t know how she does it honestly.

Then, on Sunday, Jenny M came to stay – but I almost didn’t get to see her. In fact, I almost got to see the windscreen of an unmarked police car close up.

You see, on arrival at Kings Cross, I realised that due to tube closures, I would have to get a bus to Paddington to meet Jenny M. So I crossed the road, looking at the green man and was suddenly aware of something in my peripheral vision that didn’t seem to be showing any signs of stopping.

A quick look right, revealed it to be an unmarked police car with a blue light on the top, and I’m guessing, judging by the fact everyone else had remained on the pavement, a siren!

And of course, I did the logical thing when you have a police car flying towards you at speed. I stopped in shock.

‘MOVE!’ I willed my feet, but it took a few seconds for them to get the hint, by which time the police car had stopped and I was the focal point of quite a few people on the Euston Road, all wondering what the hell I was doing.

*Blush

It was most embarrassing, and the adrenalin led me to walk most of the way to Paddington, rather than bus it.

But this was good as it gave me the thinking time to remind myself that it was better to be embarrassed than embedded in the windscreen of a police car, better to be thought of as a moron by the policemen than be embedded in the windscreen of a police car, and erm… better to be alive and well than embedded in the windscreen of a police car.

As a deaf person who cannot hear sirens anymore, these things do happen and thankfully, on Sunday, I had a lucky escape.

Fingers crossed I continue to be as lucky. And in the meantime, could unmarked police cars please get fog horns, and in return I will try and not trust the green man and look around a bit first, before crossing the road.

That is all!

A Thankful (for my writing) Friday

Today is Thankful Friday and firstly I’m very thankful for all the wonderful people who have voted for me so far in the Superdrug competition. I really do appreciate it.

I am also thankful that this weekend I get to see Best Friend And Head Girl and her family. It’s her son, Petit Pois’s first birthday and, as he’s my godson, I am going up to see him... with a very unsuitcase-friendly, impractical present! Well, that’s what godmothers are for isn’t it!

I don’t, however, trust northern weather, so inspite of the relatively tame forecast, I’m believing none of it, so am currently melting on the bus in knee-high boots and jeans. If it is warm oop north, I will be pleasantly surprised and continue to swelter there!

Anyway, one last thing I am thankful for is Superdrug. Seriously, since I became part of the blogging team, writing an reviewing things, I’ve felt incredibly inspired. I love the thrill of coming up with new ideas, and I also love looking back and seeing the ideas I had.

Sometimes I wonder what I would be doing creatively if Deafinitely Girly didn’t exist, and honestly, I don’t have a clue... I think all my ideas would just be sat there festering while I did the normal London thing: commute, gym, drinks, commute. Deafinitely Girly enhances that, and I can honestly say that writing for Superdrug does, too.

Now go and vote for me please – so it can continue to…

DG x

Things my ears do instead of hear!

Today, my right ear is burning. The edge and lobe are simmering gently.

Someone once told me that left ears burning are for love and right are for spite.

So, if that is to believed, then someone’s being mean about me – a lot.

I also have tinnitus – and another someone else also told me that this was a warning signal humans have had since they were cavemen and some people kept it, while others didn’t. If that is to be believed, then every time I get tinnitus, should I hide?

Isn’t it amazing how my ears are so utterly useless at their originally intended purpose, and instead able to tell me when someone loves or hates me, and when danger is nearby?

Did they miss the memo about actually having to hear, too?

It would appear so!

I know these are silly things to believe, and I do take them with a pinch of salt – but it is quite interesting how over the years people have come up with explanations for random occurrences such as ears ringing or burning…

And, with so many scientific discoveries occurring these days, it’s something that probably won’t continue for much longer…

Soon there’ll be a complete explanation for absolutely everything…

And in the meantime, would the person who is saying nasty things about me please stop – my ear’s threatening to overheat!

VOTE FOR ME!

OK, so I don't normally do this, but my final competition post has just gone live on the Superdrugloves.com website and I'd love it if you'd have a look at it and gimme a rating! I had a Beauty Sale in aid of UNICEF's Pakistan flood appeal and raised £75, as well as having a fabulous time taking pictures and larking around with the Blancos and London Family. Click HERE to check it out!

Thanks wonderful peeps!
DG
x

Mispronouncing words… again!!

Oh dear! Pronunciation mishaps have been few and far between lately so I guess I was due one sooner or later...

And what a good one it was.

There I was sat watching a TV programme about some famous artist with my Pa when I asked, ‘Was he more famous posthumously?’ except I pronounced it post-hume-oos-leee

*blush

After pausing for a good old chuckle, Pa told me the correct pronunciation and I realised just how wrong mine had been.

Making those kind of mistakes in front of Pa is fine though. His chuckles are good-natured and as he’s a really word expert I think he finds my quirky take on my own language entertaining. He was also the one to point out that envelope has two pronunciations and that the paper posting way wasn’t quite appropriate when related to hugs, for example.

But it does worry me about who else hears my unique and quite frankly bonkers pronunciation…

And who hears it who doesn’t know I am deaf, and instead thinks I am like Joey from Friends taking inspiration from word-of-the-day loo roll?

I worked hard to build the vocabulary that most people build aurally during their teens and uni years where the big words come out in force. I grew tired of reading ‘limited use of vocabulary’ at the bottom of my essays and so I read as many books as I could to help this – even dictionaries, which were insanely dull – but the problem is, this doesn’t help the pronunciation… and pronunciation is another word that sounds totally difference to how it reads… just ask Friend Who Knows Big Words.

In fact, I think I’ll do just that, when I meet her for dinner tonight.

Hearing cheesy music

First of all, massive congratulations to Mr and Mrs Gym Buddy on their fabulous wedding at the weekend.

Invited to the evening do, I arrived to the sight of Gym Buddy looking radiant, amazing and utterly gorgeous from head to toe.

The day had, I was informed, gone without a hitch and everyone looked amazing, not just the bride and groom!

The party was a fabulous cheese fest of music, scrumptious buffet and not one, but two, chocolate fountains, and a song dedicated to me! Ha!

*blush

Gym Buddy had warned me this was happening after she’d heard it on my iPod on a car journey to hers one day, but I could not for the life of me work out which song it could be – in truth I was slightly afraid.

And then the opening bars came on...

The unmistakable notes of the Baywatch theme tune filled the venue!

And just two people took to the dance floor! Me, and Gym Buddy! But, thankfully, due to years of practice and my exceptionally bad taste in music, I was used to this and happily danced away!

But it got me thinking about my love of cheesy music. I mean, just why do I love it so? Perhaps it’s because cheese often has a very melodic bass line, which is mostly what I can hear, simple lyrics – so I can learn them easily, and a basic beat.

I think, from a deaf point of view, it’s the easiest kind of music to listen to.

I mean, when I listen a band like Napalm Death for example, there’s just so much going on, and so much bass distortion through my ears, that none of it sounds good anymore. The same for more trendy bands, where more emphasis is on the treble notes rather than the bass.

Yes, yes, yes, that is my excuse for my insanely bad taste in music, knowing all the dance moves to every Steps song ever made and thinking that the Baywatch theme tune is fabulous.

And I’m sticking to it!

Turning my hearing off

Today is Thankful Friday and I am thankful for the wonderful night out I had last night with Web Whizz and Gym Buddy. A few quiet drinks after Zamba turned into a party in Gym Buddy’s imminent wedding honour and before we knew it, it was kicking out time and we were turfed out into the torrential rain.

Seriously – what is with the weather? It’s FREEZING! I am in winter clothes – it’s August. Did Britain accidentally float into the Southern Hemisphere and no one notice or something?

I am also thankful that it’s a bank holiday, which means one extra day of fun, and a four-day week, next week!

Hurrah!

However, let’s get back to last night shall we. There wasn’t drinking of epic proportions, but there was wine – and this is the most brain-blearying of all the alcohols in my opinion – and this has given me a very slight hangover.

And, the problem with very slight hangovers – and monstrous ones from what I can remember from my less-restrained days – is that they obliterate my hearing.

Seriously, someone at work just stood beside me for a full five minutes apparently trying to get my attention – unaware of my deafness as she’s new – and then eventually tapped me on my shoulder causing me to jump and shout ‘What?’ at the top of my voice.

*blush

Then, there’s the attempting to lipread. Seriously, I can be gazing right at lips and nothing is registering. It’s quite bizarre. This morning in Pret, I said pardon 50 times to the poor guy at the till before giving up and answering yes or no alternately to see what would happen.

And that is how my day shall go.

I shall be channelling all my energies into my job and the hearing will have to take the back seat.

I’m turning my ears off as of now.

And, I shall be very thankful for the peace.

Have a great bank holiday weekend peeps.
DGx

Two weddings, a baby and some cats!

Today’s blog has somehow gone missing in Cyberspace after I hit ‘send’ from my iPhone this morning. It’s marked as an unsent message but I can’t get to it.

So here I am starting afresh.

It’s almost the weekend, which is fabulous, and what’s even more fabulous is that this weekend Gym Buddy is getting married.

*sob

Just thinking about it gets me all emotional, as I’m sure it’ll be an amazing day.

And on the subject of weddings, Deafinitely Girly has some very exciting news.

I am going to be a Witness at First Ever Friend’s wedding next year.

*whoop!

First Ever Friend went on holiday to Canada recently and I was hoping that her boy would pop the question as they have been together forever. And he did.

I found out yesterday in a card she had sent me, where she also requested I be her witness – which I think is kinda like the Swiss version of a bridesmaid except you get to choose the dress and there’s no aisle to walk down…

So momentous was this, that I actually braved a phone call, cranked up the volume on my iPhone and plugged my headphones in so that I could say congratulations. And, as she is my first ever friend, she knows my deafness well, so she spoke very clearly, and I think I heard most of what was going on.

Phew!

It's brilliant when these life-altering things happen to my friends. The excitement of the journey they’re going on is infectious, and I love going along for the ride.

When I think about all the things First Ever Friend and I have been through, it seems amazing that we actually live hundreds of miles apart. I know if I ever needed her, she’d be there quicker than if she lived around the corner, and I hope she knows the same is true for me.

What an amazing 18 months it’s going to be – Gym Buddy’s getting married, NikNak is going to be a mum, First Ever Friend – a wife, and me?

Well, I think I might join SuperCathyFragileMystic and get a cat!

Despairing at subtitles STILL!

I've come to the sorry conclusion that anything Top Gear is cursed when it comes to subtitles. I mean, I know BBC breakfast isn't renowned for the most brilliant subtitles in the world, but today they were terrible at the precise moment The-man-formerly-known-as-The Stig was being interviewed!

Jeremy became Germany, James became GMs and mostly I had no idea what was going on.

To put it simply: Arghhhhhhhhh

And on the subject of the current Stig – he'd be dumb to publish anything, as I really don't think it would endear him to anyone. Top Gear fans love the whole show, not just him, and I think he'd destroy a little bit of the magic if he shafted the programme.

And do I know who The Stig is? Quite possibly after dating a lose-tongued motoring journalist a few years ago, followed by a Top Gear insider a few months after that.

They both said it was the same person... And google says a whole lot of other people say that too.

And for me, finding out who it might be, did kind of ruin the magic of Top Gear a little for me.

So finding out for definite would probably ruin it completely!

Don't do it Stig!

And on a completely different note, I’ve been working hard over at Superdrugloves.com and the competition is nearing the end. To celebrate my year so far, I launched the Deafinitely Girly Beauty Awards 2010 and, if you like, you can read and rate it by clicking here. Thanks DG readers.

Life before Deafinitely Girly

Now this sunny weather is more like it!

I was expecting rain this morning when I opened my bedroom blinds, and it was so lovely to be faced with blue sky.

Anyway, the end of the Superdrug competition is nearing and that's partly why I've been a little bit quiet on here recently. Over at Superdrugloves.com, I've been trying to think up original posts and new ways to chat about products, and my latest post should up soon, so keep an eye open for it.

It's at time like this when there are so many Deafinitely Girly-related amazing things going on in my life that I wonder what I did before DG was born...

I mean, for starters what did I do on my bus journey to work every day if I wasn't writing my daily instalment?

And before I wrote for Superdrug, what did I do about beauty products? I mean, just going into my bathroom is like walking into a miniature beauty boutique. How did it become normal to choose my styling products to match my mood, my make-up to match any shade I am wearing and my...

…anyway, it's utterly brilliant and I love it!

I think another reason I've been quiet on here recently is because I'm doing Ok with my deafness. There's nothing I need to thrash out in words this week. No niggles or insecurities that I need advice or reassurance on.

It's odd. But I'm not complaining.

I remember as a teenager learning that these things come in cycles, so a high about my deafness is as normal as a low. I also know that the lows are particularly tough after a nice high period...

But when it comes, I'll be ready and waiting on Deafinitelygirly.com, safe in the knowledge that if anything can get me through it, writing can...

And some sparkly blue nail polish from Superdrug of course.

Learning to be a deaf grown up

Today is thankful Friday and I am extremely thankful about the fun weekend ahead I have planned.

Today, my littlest cousin, London Cousin 2, is 9 years old! I can't believe it – it seems no time ago since I was staying with London Aunt and Uncle, helping them out with her when she was a teeny tiny baby.

As I was buying her birthday present yesterday, a little fitted nautical-trend jacket from Next, I felt quite emotional that she has grown up so fast! And then I had to remind myself that she is only 9!

We are all going out to celebrate tonight – London family, The Blancos and The Rents, and it should be great fun...

Anyway, I am also thankful after watching the news this morning that I have already been to university!

I mean, I know the media has a tendency to make things sound worse than they are, but this lack of places thing sounds downright scary.

Looking back, I don't think I would have been one of the lucky ones...

Not without seriously playing the deaf card, and honestly, I never wanted that to be a factor in whether I should get in somewhere.

When I look back at my time at uni, I learnt a lot – it was an environment that suited me and allowed me to adjust to being a deaf adult.

Everyone is different but I think that many people benefit from this staggered form of growing up. I did my final bit during my postgraduate where I learnt how to be deaf in a work place...

It may sound bizarre but I didn't know how to act, how proactive to be and what to say to people – there is a professional way to vocalise your disability and it took time for me to get to grips with it.

If I had gone straight into work, I dread to think where I might be now. I would have had to have done all my learning and all my growing up in the harsh, unforgiving land of the work place.

It actually makes me feel a bit nauseous just thinking about it.

Big Bro on the other hand, did all his growing up in the work place and his amazingly successful career so far is a testament to his hard work but also evidence that uni was not the right path for him.

So here's what I think…

In an ideal world, Uni selection should not just be about grades, it should be about passion and drive. About the right people getting in because it's what they really want.

If times really are changing then people need to stop using uni as an excuse to get drunk for 4 years and start looking at it as a job in itself – regardless of the career plan they choose to follow afterwards.

If they don’t already, universities need to ask questions like, why do you want to come this uni? Why are you right for this course, what are your expectations? How can you contribute?

They need to weed out the time-wasters in the same way that companies do during job interviews.

I am good at my job. I got a 2:1 at uni, and that was without attending more than 4 english literature lectures in the entire three years – I self taught from notes as I couldn’t hear in lectures at all.

But I got not great A-level results, which today would probably not even get me a look-in on any course I wanted to do.

But my uni gave me a chance. They called me in for an interview and asked me all the same questions I listed above. They saw beyond my crap A-levels, saw my passion, drive and determination and allowed me to excel.

And for that, I will be forever thankful.

There was an old lady…

Today, I cannot stop yawning!

Sat here on the bus beside a little old lady, I'm worried I'm going to be snoring in minute.

Anyway, do you know this week I have apologised to a spider a total of five times?

Regular readers will know I have something of a wild front garden outside my house. Rainy weather sees me battling snails on the front gate and slugs on the pathway, and just when I'd got used to them, I was leaving my house on Monday morning and walked smack bang into the biggest spider’s web ever, stretched across my pathway. Seriously, this spider must be Tarzan in his spare time to bridge the gap over the crazy paving!

And what happened to the spider? Well I presume he was the blob on my face that I threw off while doing the manic dance that people only do when confronted with bugs.

The question now however is, is this spider so dumb that every day and every night he builds a new web across the pathway? Or is he so clever that this is him bearing a grudge for pillaging his palatial mansion the first time around?

Whatever it is, every morning and every night, without fail, he's there. And he's not little either! I believe the human term for legs like his are thunder thighs, and he has eight of them.

The question is, what am I going to do about him? At the moment I de-string one half of his web from the wisteria, which sends the other half flying into the bush with him left in the tangled web he's woven, and then I apologise to him politely and walk through.

I've tried commando crawling under the web, but that's not conducive to turning up at work looking like I actually give a damn. And short of exiting my flat via the window, there's really not much else I can do.

Anyone got any tips for spider relocation that doesn't include sending them to spider heaven? Should I get this old lady next to me to swallow a fly?

Suggestions on a postcard please!

This 'not hearing' business is getting easier!

This morning I had a new patient appointment at my doctor’s surgery at 7.45am, so right now, I’m feeling a bit sleepy!

I’m rubbish at doctor’s appointments. I’ve got that syndrome where you get inside the room and when they ask you how you are, your reflex is to say fine, because it’s amazing how much better you feel when faced with the prospect of a diagnosis.

I remember when going for my surgery last year, checking with the anaesthetist numerous times whether this was really necessary and that I felt much better already. He then pointed out the vat of paracetamol I’d had through an IV drip and explained that most people would feel better after that, too.

Anyway, my nurse today had the most fabulous accent and a rich deep-sounding voice, which made understanding anything she said virtually impossible!
I explained I needed to lipread and she was brilliant. But honestly, I still had very little idea what she was saying. The vowel sounds were so prominent, I couldn’t make out a single consonant!

But all in all it went well, and hopefully the Crohn's will stay quiet enough that I won’t have to visit again for a while.

This week is the week before the week before Gym Buddy’s wedding so we’re squishing in as much gym as we possibly can to ensure she’s in tiptop shape for the occasion! Last night was Body Combat where I beat my imaginary person to a pulp, and today is Body Balance – and I have no idea what that is. But it’s held by Web Whizz’s favourite instructor, the Tasmanian Devil, so it should be fun!

It’s amazing how used to not hearing in classes I am getting, too. It’s frustrating, sure, but I don’t feel the need to give up as easily as I used to now, and instead just accept that I will eventually have a clue what is going on.

It’s very satisfying to have overcome this hurdle and I’m even tempted to try some other classes I’ve always wanted to do.

Would a French class be too ambitious? If I could find a ‘Learn to lipread French’ class to accompany it, then my life would be complete.

Au revoir!

Hi Honey, I'm back!

You know you’re having a busy time of it when there’s not even time for a Thankful Friday.

Phew, massive apologies to anyone who needs them for the appalling lack of blogs last week. With a deadline for Hearing Times and Superdrug looming, my day blog took the back seat a bit. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t off being Deafinitely Girly and gathering plenty of material for the cyber pages of my blog.

On Friday, I was actually very thankful as I took the day off to go and visit Picture Mate. She recently had a baby, and I had a fabulous day catching up with her over lunch, meeting her gorgeous giggly little boy and generally chilling out.

Then, on Friday night I headed to down to Uni Housemate’s place where she lives with The Man. The Man used to have a terribly boring blog name, so it’s been upgraded as of today! Anyway, the reason for the gathering, which also involved Onion Soup Mate, G, Tigger and Mrs Tigger, was that Uni Housemate has turned 30, so we decided to celebrate at an open air classical concert on Saturday evening.

On Saturday, we woke up and prayed that it wouldn’t rain. It rained, so we set off for the concert armed with waterproofs, hats, umbrellas and me with a rather fetching camping chair that was bright pink, circular and featured the most fabulous Orla Kiely-esque print on it. We drove through the flooded motorway with some reservations about what we might be about to experience. But then, as we arrived, the rain stops, the cloud cleared and the sunset warmed us as we ate our picnic, waved our flags and sang along badly to Rule Britannia.

Twas fabulous!

Then today, we went for a walk in Pompey, along the sea front I know so well from my days spent studying there. What I had never stumbled upon though, was the unofficial nudist beach that I accidentally walked through today. A sight for sore eyes on so many levels, and let’s just say, I suddenly found the pebbles directly in front of me far more interesting that the surrounding vista.

Turns out Deafinitely Girly is a prude!

And there’s just one other piece of fantastically wonderful news to report from the weekend, and that is that Penthouse Flatmate and her husband, Future Prime Minister, had a baby – their third one and a little brother for my fabulous goddaughter.

Proving that good things really do come at weekends.

Roll on the next one I say!

A deaf girl in Paris

Phew! Am now on the planet to write a blog, after being slightly exhausted yesterday from my weekend in Paris...

But what a weekend it was!

It nearly didn’t happen though, after my Crohn's put in an impromptu Friday appearance, just before a lunch date. Three sips of soup later, I was trying to conceal my shakes.

But, after a consultation with my oldest friend, Dr SuperCathyFragileMystic, I decided that a holiday was just what I needed and, after promising Ma I'd be careful – turns out getting travel insurance with Crohn's is not that straight forward – I set off…

…in Premium Leisure class!

This meant I got a three-course meal and seemingly bottomless amounts of alcohol. The latter of which I couldn't have as I was feeling rotten, the former was a welcome sight after eating nothing that day.

And what of Paris?

Well, if I could lipread French better and afford to live in a little flat on The Seine, I would move there in an instant.

It's fabulous.

The Saturday was spent wandering the Musée d'Orsay, which is literally littered with fabulous and famous artwork. My favourites being the Degas Little Dancer sculpture and Van Gogh's self-portrait. Both of them had a vulnerability about them that was captivating.

Another interesting thing about the d'Orsay is that it used to be a station, so it was fun sitting in there, surrounded by paintings by all the great impressionists while imagining it was once the Parisian exit to Orleans.

Next, saw a trip to the Rodin museum. A magnificent house, where the artist himself lived and grounds that are adorned with his famous works – The Thinker, The Kiss, The Gates Of Hell.

But to get there however, we didn't walk. We cycled on the Parisian equivalent of the London Barclaycard bikes.

Luckily, French Cousin 2 is an accomplished Parisian cyclist so I just followed her, while silently hoping my European Health Card would cover me should I park myself under the wheels of a passing Renault.

And it turns out that cycling really is the best way to see Paris, and indeed the best way to get home at 2.30am after a party in the rain by the Seine!

On the Sunday, we took a boat trip down the canal from Parc de la Villette into the centre of the city. This involved five locks and a 2km tunnel under Paris. Interspersed with circular grills giving views of the sky, we motored down this secret highway by the gentle lamplight, marvelling at how creative the architect of this has been. When faced with the industrial unsightliness of the canal, he simply hid it, and built beautiful buildings on top.

Naturally, after seeing it from below, I wanted to see it from pavement level so we rented bikes and headed to the Place de la Bastille, a road junction that saw me wishing I had really had managed to take out travel insurance and letting out random yelps as I bounced over cobblestones, dodged buses and cars and kept a watchful eye on my excellent tour guide, French Cousin 2.

And all too soon it was time to return to London - on yesterday's 7am Eurostar... hence the lack of blog yesterday.

So now all that’s left to do, is plan the next trip…

Hurrah!

Covered in cobwebs

Today is Thankful Friday, and I am thankful that I have a long weekend ahead in Paris with French Cousins 2, 3 and 1, and Mustard Boy!

I haven't been to visit them all for far too long so am most excited. And the bonus is, I love Paris, too.

I am not thankful however, about the fact that, after making an effort to look nice today, I have now ended up looking like I've been dragged through a dusty broom cupboard backwards.

In a sense, I kind of have, in the form of the cellar in the old conversion I live in. This cellar actually belongs to my neighbour, but the electricity meters are down there, so today I had to brave it for the first time ever.

The first problem I met is that the staircase was designed for miniature people – think The Borrowers – and so, after navigation my way around two ladders, a lawn mower cable that was threatening to garrotte me, and a mysterious carrier bag, I began my descent... smack bang into a thick wall of cobwebs!

Sticky cobwebs.

I could even shake myself free as I was still stuck in the stairwell of minute proportions at that point.

Eventually, I reached the cellar and was confronted by the spaghetti junction of the electricity world. To find my meter was like following the lines reaching from Tony the Tiger to his bowl of cereal on a box of Frosties.

I then made the mistake of looking up, and found a housing estate of spiders above my head.

All in all, it was a traumatic experience!

This morning, sat on the bus, (probably still not cobweb free, probably with spiders in my hair... the thought of which was making me scratch my head quite a lot – proabaly the reason why the seat next door to me was vacant) I realised with sadness that my pristine look had gone out of the window.

So, I decided to work the shabby chic look instead...

Pssssst... One more thing – if you have a mo, check out my latest post for Superdrug, HERE!

Learning with my eyes

Today, I am having trouble writing this blog, because yesterday, while drying up a Starbucks mug in the kitchen at work, the handle came off and the jagged bit sliced open my hand right in the webbed bit between my thumb and index finger.

There was blood, and a few panicky tears, and lovely colleagues sorting out first aid and wondering aloud if it needed a stitch!

*Eek

But what amazed me was how doubly deaf I became when I was in pain. People were talking but it just wasn't registering with me. I mean, I kept saying no to my colleague, who it turned out was offering me chocolate, and since when have I turned chocolate down?!

Anyway, today, like yesterday, I am heading into town early. I have a lot on at the moment, and a Superdrug deadline that's tomorrow. I have a vague idea of what I am doing for it, but I have to juggle that with dance class tonight and various other fun things before I head to Paris tomorrow evening.

And speaking of dance class, I am a little bit apprehensive about it. I mean, the last time I went to a dance class, I left, 10 minutes in, gutted that I couldn't hear anything.

The time before that? Well, I was 13 and doing ballet...

...which was not a pretty sight!

But I am going to give tonight's class a go, and see if I can rely just on my eyes to learn the moves and not on my ears. I only hope we don't have the same instructors as we did for Body Combat (they were dry-humping each other), otherwise the person next to me may get quite a shock!!!!

Getting back to work

Today is Wednesday…

It feels like Monday, because it is my first day of work this week.

On Friday, I am going to Paris – the place where I mispronounce things like Versailles (think lots of LLLLLs) and eat lots of bad things.

Therefore it feels strange to be at work, when really I feel as though I will soon be on holiday.

That is why I got to work one hour early today, so that I can catch up on stuff and make sure I am on the ball when 9.30 rolls around.

And that is why today’s blog post is rather short, as I really had better get back to it.

*sniff

Three times thankful

Today is Thankful Friday.

This weekend, The Rents are coming back from a month-long trip to the USA.

It is for this I am thankful for!

I have missed them.

And they also promised to bring me back some Peanut Butter M&Ms and some Combos…

Oh, and some Bush’s Baked Beans – the most divine thing on the planet!

For this, I am also thankful.

And, for obvious reasons, as a result of the above, I am thankful for my gym membership!

Have a great weekend peeps.

DG
x

Lipreading mishap!

Yesterday, I was walking along the street when a man stopped me, clearly in a hurry, and said, ‘Phshf ghjdihg dhhghfidh?’

Or at least that’s what my ears heard and lips read.

I said pardon and this time I heard, ‘Do you know where Holyraw Road is please?’

‘Eeerrr, what?’ I said, with him looking at me like I was some kind of moron.

‘The. Hole. In. The. Wall,’ he said again, slowly this time, before adding, ‘Cash. Machine!’

And finally, I had a clue what he was on about. But it did make me laugh how ‘Hole in the wall’ can be lipread so differently.

Except I didn’t know where a cash machine was, so had to send him on his way, after wasting five minutes trying to get me to understand him – all for no reason.

*blush

I don’t know what it is, but people always seem to stop me for directions – even when I am in foreign country. My Pa is exactly the same, and as I look a bit like him, maybe we just have the kind of face that says, ‘Ask me the way, I know everything!’

Which clearly, as yesterday demonstrates, I don’t!

So now, I am going to work on pulling a face that says, ‘Don’t ask me the way, I don’t know anything…’

I will let you know how I get on.

Not hearing with hearing aids

Yay! It's the middle of the week and the sun is shining! What more could
I ask for?!

I had a brilliant evening with Fab Friend last night - regular readers will know she actually wears her hearing aids, and yesterday, she'd been to the audiology clinic to see about the new hearing aids she's been trying out.

Apparently, they transpose the pitch of high sounds into frequencies that you can hear. But it turns out, they may not be a great as first thought, and I really felt for her when she expressed her disappointment about this. But luckily, she does have a pair that do help. In fact, I think with them on, she actually hears more than me.

For me, realising that hearing aids don't help me was quite a painful process. It's hard not to place expectations on the aids. I mean, I'm shortsighted, and yet I spend every day with perfect vision. I think I, and many people forget that hearing aids don't achieve this - you don't get perfect hearing with them.

I remember the high expectations I had the first time I got digital aids, I was so excited. I was warned it would be different but that I should persevere through that. But even with (OK... mediocre) perseverence, I just could not see how my life was better with them in it. Everything was so loud... and this, made me fall over.

And I still stand by that. It's not so bad not hearing birds sing, babies cry and cats meow. With my hearing aids, I only get these as a white noise crackle anyway, and a cat emitting white noise is not a pleasant thing.

And if not hearing white noise in the place of high sounds means I'm saved from the unpleasantness of falling over at loud lower frequencies when my aids are in, then I'll take that over babies crying anyday.

Wouldn't you?

Guess who's coming to dinner?

Last night I had the wierdest dream, I dreamt that I was juicing lemons, all night long!

Odd, don't you think?

The strangest part of this is that I don't even own a lemon juicer. Although the one in my dream was pretty nice - red and melamine! Two of my favourite things!

Anyway, today I am most excited because Fab Friend is coming to dinner! Her first visit since she moved to the Wild West erm... Country and her first visit to my flat this year - so she hasn't seen my sofa yet, or the spare room looking unbombsite-like.

I can't wait to hear how she's getting on in the Wild West erm... Country, as it's a place I love very much. In fact, a part of me always thought I might end up back there. And who knows, one day i just might.

Which reminds me, I must remember to ask Fab Friend how her search for Country Boy 3 is coming along!

Forgetting my Crohn's

Wow, another weekend over. But this time around, I actually managed to have a quiet one.

On Saturday, I saw Friend Who Knows Big Words. We had lunch at her flat and after lunch I fell asleep for an hour – charming behaviour from a guest, I’m sure you’ll agree.

Then yesterday, I spent the afternoon in Heathrow Terminal 5 with First Ever Friend and Swiss Boy 2. They had a wait between flights from Switzerland and Canada so we had some lunch and caught up and wondered if I could contort myself enough to fit in First Ever Friend’s hand luggage.

I’m not feeling brilliant at the moment though, as I think my Crohn’s might be back. All weekend I felt exhausted and not fabulous – hence the nap on Saturday afternoon – and all the usual symptoms are back. It’s so frustrating as I had almost recently forgot that I have this condition.

It was kind of like how I forget I am deaf. Except this one is a whole lot more inconvenient and worrying that being deaf.

And in a way, that’s good, as it puts my deafness in perspective.

I think frame of mind is important when dealing with Crohn’s so I’m going to continue to this positive thinking in the hope that I can chase these symptoms away…

Here’s hoping, eh?

Having a Thankful Friday

Today is Thankful Friday and I am mostly thankful for the amazing support and brilliant comments I got on yesterday's blog post.

For all those concerned that I am not going to fight the gym and try to change this stupid requirement that says I need a doctor's note for my deafness, don't worry. I am just picking the timing of my battle wisely.

It is hard sometimes to know which battle to fight though – especially when it comes to discrimination. I mean, you can't fight every little thing, but how do you know which ones to go to town on?

When I was at school, I had a chemistry teacher who had the deaf awareness of a tea cosy. He'd mumble through his beard, walk around the classroom with his back to me and then have the audacity to shake a box of plastic molecules by my ear to wake me up when I fell asleep. Should I school him? I thought. And in the end I decided to let him get on with it and teach myself instead, as it wasn't as though me hearing him was going to make me any better at chemistry. And I certainly had no plans to take chemistry beyond the compulsory GCSE.

Anyway, enough about that.

I am also thankful that this weekend is looking quiet – although after last weekend, that might be famous last words. However, for now, there are no early mornings in the pipeline or anything other than catching up with the fabulous Friend Who Knows Big Words and First Ever Friend. I am catching up with the latter at the airport as she's got a stopover between Switzerland and Canada and I can't wait!

Have a good one everyone!
DGx

Fighting a losing battle?

Yesterday was a sad day for me, as it symbolised my surrender in a fight that quite simply was unwinnable at this moment in time.

Waiting for me on the doormat last night was a letter - and not just any old letter, but a letter from my audiologist informing my gym that despite being deaf, this does not make it any more likely that i will drop a dumbbell on my head any time soon.

And today, I will hand that letter in when I go for my induction.

However, this does not mean I have given up without a fight. It just means that I am not willing to risk being banned from the gym with just one month to go before Gym Buddy’s wedding. I will fight while exercising. And now I have the doctor’s note, I am actually quite tempted to drop a dumbbell on my head, just to prove that having a doctor’s note won’t actually prevent me from doing this.

Anyway, tonight I have a Legs Bums and Tums class, which is going to hurt, as my calf muscles still feel insanely sore from my Body Combat Class earlier in the week. But as the saying goes, there’s no gain without pain.

Harumph!

Let’s see what hurts the most tomorrow shall we…

My legs, bum, tum or head from dropping the dumbbell on it.

I shall let you know!

I'm counting my blessings with weeds!

Last night I couldn't sleep.

Despite being exhausted by my Body Combat class, of which I heard absolutely nothing of – but apparrently according to Web Whizz that didn't matter as our intructor spent the whole time flirting with her colleague – no sleep came to me.

Rather disturbingly during my Body Combat class, I could see my instructor flirting with her colleague, and when the mock sex moves starting occurring, I swear I threw up a little in my mouth.

So anyway, where was I? Ah yes, not being able to sleep. I watched a little TV, read a little of my new Katie Fforde book and eventually played Scrabble on my iPhone, thrashing the computer rather satisfactorily.

I then read my phone messages, to remind me about the amazing people in my life. Two messages in particular stood out. One said, ‘Count your garden by the flowers, never by the leaves that fall.’ And the other said, 'Hold your head up high and watch your back' and it was on this note that I finally closed my eyes and slept a truely dreamless sleep.

And today? My head is held high, and I'm watching my back, and if Nutty Neighbour ever did any gardening, I would count the flowers – but for now, I’m counting weeds!!!!

When email beats phone calls... kinda

So, on Friday, I decided that I was going to have a quiet and relaxing weekend.

Ha!

However, while I didn’t have that. I did have an exceptionally fun weekend – that has left me in need of another to recover.

On Saturday, I successfully got my car MOT’d and serviced. I was nervous as I organised the whole thing by email and was convinced in the absence of a proper conversation something would go wrong.

And it kinda did in that the person I emailed neglected to tell me that the service centre had moved 2 miles up the road. But once the car was there and I realised I was in the middle of nowhere, on an industrial estate with no where to go, I settled down for the three-hour wait and thoroughly enjoyed the rare opportunity to plough through the latest book I am reading.

And it was all fine. Everything passed and for another year, I don’t have to worry. Even more importantly, next year I know that I can just do it all by email again! Hurray!

Saturday night saw me having a wonderful time at London Aunt’s with great wine, great food and great company and Sunday saw me having a great hangover!

Teehee!

But the show had to go on and it was Miss K’s birthday festivities – held early as she’s jetting off to New York this week on holiday.

It was brilliant to celebrate with her and when I think what she’s achieved in the last year, it makes me very proud to know her. She’s quite something!

And now I’m at Monday again – and guess what I’ve got to look forward to?

An fabulous evening of Body Combat with Gym Buddy and Web Whizz.

After finding out from Gym Buddy the other week that the whole class revolves around an imaginary fight – I had missed all this due to not being able to hear the instructor – I will allow my imagination to run riot and plan to throw myself into the class with gusto.

Just gotta find my muse now…

No longer relying on the phone…

Today is Thankful Friday and I am mostly thankful for feeling so I inspired by the Superdrug competiton again. I've had a lot of fun completing this week’s challenge, and you can see the results by clicking copying this link into your browser http://superdrugloves.com/summerlooks/! And if you like it, don't forget to click on 5 stars!

I am also thankful for the fabulously quiet weekend I've got ahead of me. After a week of madness, I need to do very little. The most I will be doing is freaking out about the bill for getting my car MOT’d and serviced...

Ouchy!

However, I was very impressed that I was able to book the whole thing by email – a first for me. In the past, NikNak always rang up my mechanic to book my car in and spoke to him during the day about any issues with the MOT etc. It was amazing of her to do this for me, but I am very happy that this time around, because I have moved areas and have a new garage, I can do it independently.

It's slow progress but I am beginning to notice things I can now do for myself without relying on people to make calls for me. From booking theatre tickets and tables in restaurants to selling shares and sorting out health problems, gradually the provisions are in place to allow me to text or email. I feel so much more in control of my life.

In that area anyway!

Have a great weekend everyone…

Not watching The Silence

I despair of this weather! In spite of the fact I am wearing a fabulous new Bourjois bronzer sent to me by Superdrug as part of the Summer Blog competition I am once again taking part in, I DO NOT FEEL SUMMERY!

In fact, I have broken out the winter boots and tights, as I just could not face getting soggy feet on the way to work this morning. So, while I was skipping through the puddles with my toasty dry feet, people were sloshing behind me in flip flops…

Anyway, if you haven’t been aware of the media interest in the latest thriller on the BBC, The Silence, you obviously need to read more papers. This four-part drama surrounding the aftermath of a girl witnessing a murder, who also happens to have had a cochlear implant and is dealing with the issues surround that as well as being intimidated by crooked cops (did I miss anything out?) has been slated and rated by pretty much everyone since it began on Monday.

And, honestly, I am not about to join them, because yesterday I did a very weird thing. I deleted it, unwatched, from my digibox hard drive.

I KNOW!!!!!!

I have no idea why I did this…

It may have been to do with the fact that I caught about 15 minutes of it yesterday – where the dad is running up the lane and the main character, Amelia, has just run off to Bristol on a bus. I sat there watching and then it hit me why I wasn’t enjoying it – everything was so out of focus! I mean, the girl was in focus but the entire background was out of focus. Now there may be some clever visual link between this and the isolation that Amelia feels from the outside world, but it made me feel motion sick and a little bit blind.

Did anyone else find this?

I lasted 15 minutes and then, in a fit of impulsiveness, deleted the whole lot. So now I can’t even make an informed decision on whether or not I like it!

Whoops!

Never mind, I thought, I can always watch it on iPlayer…

…except I can’t as for some reason, it’s not subtitled!

The irony of this makes me feel almost as sick as the out of focus camera work.

And that is all!

Dear Top Gear, your subtitles are RUBBISH!

Dear Top Gear,

Thank you, no really, THANK YOU for your consistency in cocking up the subtitles that accompany your show, series after series.

OK, so I know they’re not actually typed by Top Gear peeps – much as I’d love Jeremy Clarkson to subtitle his own show, but I think it's about time the Beeb had a word with the people who do, because they are rubbish.

I know this because last night, while watching a recording of Sunday's show, right in the middle of Baracello's interview, the subtitles jumped so far ahead that I found out his lap time practically before he'd crossed the finish line.

Arghhhh!

I turned the subtitles off, I turned them on, I restarted the programme, and I swore, but nothing worked, which was frustrating as it rendered the rest of the programme useless. I was just about to delete it, when I instead decided to let it run, and read a magazine while keeping one eye on the subtitles to see if they would eventually even out. And they did – but not until a whole section on a Muscle Car had passed, and an interview with Rupert Grint.

What gets me is how consistently terrible Top Gear’s subtitles are – there are enough blog posts here as evidence to this – and half the time I don’t even bother to comment as I know I won’t be able to type anything polite.

In fact, I can barely remember an episode where the subtitles didn't get stuffed up.

It's not good enough. It's not why I pay my TV licence.

Sort it out guys... preferably by next week, yeah?!

Yours stroppily
DG

my mishearing mishap

Hurrah! What a good weekend I had! I certainly didn't want it to end.

On Friday, I had an amazing picnic with NikNak in my local park – we gorged ourselves on every kind of picnic food imaginable and had a fabulous catch up.

Then, on Saturday, it was Gym Buddy's hen do!

We started out with a tasty tea at the Soho Hotel, went back to hers for Pimms and pizza and then headed back out to a bar called Circus.

There were about 10 people I had never met before, which was erm... all of them, and by the time we were in Circus Bar, the chance still hadn't arisen to tell any of them I couldn't hear...

While I seemed to be doing OK, I thought, during a quiet moment, I should check with Gym Buddy and let her know that if anyone commented on me being rude or doing something odd, she should let them know about my deafness.

She then started to laugh and said it had already happened!! Apparently, when we were all getting ready, one of her bridesmaids came to me and asked her to zip her up, which I did, before going back to my make-up. Except, she didn't ask me to zip her up, she asked me to unzip her...

*blush

This meant she had to go all the way downstairs to find someone else to do this for her, while wondering what the heck I had been playing at! Gym Buddy did tell her I couldn’t hear after that, but ironically, she didn’t hear her say this!

The poor girl must have thought I was mental – or just obtuse!

Once in Guanabara – a Brazilian club in Covent Garden, I also chickened out of talking to anyone full stop as the music was so loud, I could barely hear myself talk, let alone anyone else. But it was fabulous – especially the live drumming, as this was right in my frequency and I almost fell off the bench I was dancing on several times such was my enthusiasm!

And today? Well, I am one of those people the RNID tweet about regularly, who has damaged their hearing through loud music. Everything is muter than ever – the radio is a tinny hum and I’ve said pardon more times today than I’ve breathed!

Lesson learned – ear plugs will be at the ready next time.

Those, and some flat shoes – not sure what suffered more at the weekend, my feet or my ears!

Roll on the weekend!

Today is Thankful Friday, except I am not very thankful because last night I came into my kitchen to find it was raining, through the light fitting.

Eek!

To top it all off, it wasn't content with just leaking through a live electrical fitting, it also decided to come through in four other places - two of those in my bedroom.

Argh!

Not overjoyed by this but aware my neighbour was lending his flat to some friends, I went upstairs and told them about the leak. I really did try not to raise my voice and sound cross, but I was cross, so I may have failed slightly at that task.

Ho-hum...

So now I just have to hope my pleas of 'do not use the shower and please fix this leak' are adhered to on the hottest sweatiest day of the year, so I don't come home to find my ceiling down round about my ankles tonight!!

But on happier notes, I am muchly excited about the fun weekend I have ahead. NikNak is coming over for a picnc and gossip tonight and tomorrow is Gym Buddy's hen do! Whoop!

We went to the gym last night for a Legs Bums and Tums class with Web Whizz, and it was ace. Painful but excellent!

Naturally I didn't hear a word the instructor said, but I coped by copying others, which only worked if they were getting it right, which honestly was not very often!

Hopefully next week, it will all seem more familiar as I am trying not to cry with the pain as she puts us through the torturous routine – and I do this for fun don’t you know.

Lastly, I am thankful that I will also get to see Whiskey Cousin and her ma, Ha-ha-Aunt. They are coming up to watch a concert in town so I will meet them for a catch up beforehand and then go and join GBman and the Singing Swede for the football match that is the World Cup Final.

Family loyalties mean I am supporting Holland. This apparently is of no relevance to Paul the psychic Octopus who has selected Spain as the winner.

Bother!

But then, I heard that Mani the psychic parakeet has selected Holland…

So maybe there is some hope after all!

Have a great weekend everyone…

Watching the Jonas Miserables

On Tuesday night, I took Friend Who Knows Big Words to see Les Miserables for her 30th birthday and one the whole, it was brilliant.

Friend Who Knows Big Words is also a friend who reads big books and naturally she has read Les Miserables – unlike the entire rest of the audience – so was intrigued to see how true it was to the storyline. And it turns out, she was impressed – although at the interval she said that at this point, the book only had about 300 pages of the 1,500+ left to go and thought it was the end!

Regular readers will know that due to the fact that there wasn’t a subtitled performance until later on in the year, the lovely theatre peeps gave me a discount on the premium tickets so we could sit near enough that I could lipread a little, so there we were, three rows from the front, bang in the middle. And actually, while this was excellent for lipreading, I did get a bit of a crick in my neck after a while, as we were so close I was looking up a lot of the time.

What FWKBW and I hadn’t bargained on was there being a teenage heartthrob in the cast though – none other than erm… someone called Nick Jonas, who is apparently very famous and very popular with the ladies. I only know about him as one of my Superdrug mates, Holly, loves this Jonas and his brothers and wrote about them quite a lot last summer.

Anyway, this meant that over 50% of the audience was made up of teenage girls, all eager to get a glimpse of their idol – there was one at the front who spent the entire show gripping the orchestra pit barrier in anticipation, and when Mr Jonas made his first appearance on stage, the girl to our left, leapt out of seat and was on the cusp of screaming until she caught the daggered looks from FWKBW and me, and thought better of it.

So what of the performance? Well, having seen Les Mis quite a few times – people always seem to want to go with me, wonder if it’s the cheap tickets?! – it was good…

But it wasn’t excellent.

It’s not that I can fault Mr Jonas specifically, but I just didn’t find him very believable as the character of Marius – perhaps because I was aware that everyone around me was giving off lust hormones for Nick Jonas and not Marius so therefore it was hard to get into the swing of things.

But the important thing was, especially as it was her birthday present, was that FWKBW didn’t even know who Nick Jonas was, so she was blissfully engrossed in the story, filling me in on things in the book that weren’t mentioned or were just touched on briefly, and humouring my little cry when good old Valjean pegs it at the end.

But actually, it was the end that also had me crawling under my seat with embarrassment because by then the girl to our left could hardly contain herself and when Mr Jonas took to the stage to bow, she left her seat in one swift move and screamed at a frequency that thankfully I couldn’t hear. But what I could hear, through the wild applause was FWKBW declare loudly, ‘Oh my god, shoot her now!’ in reference to the mad screaming Jonas fan.

At this point I also kinda felt sorry for the other cast members, who let’s face it, do exactly the same job as Mr Jonas, only better, and none of them have girls hyperventilating over them on a nightly basis.

All-in-all, I think I’ve reached the conclusion, that should I go and see it again – and you can guarantee I will as one of my friends will want to go on the cheap – I will make sure there are absolutely NO celebrities in it.

Just hard-working West End stars…

Maybe that way, I will actually get to focus on the performance rather than try and block out the barrage of teenage hormones that will inevitable invade the auditorium.

Not hearing my gym class

So, I’m in a slightly happier mood today – although quite unable to move after going to a Body Combat class with Gym Buddy!

It was great fun though as well as being incredibly hard work.

At the end of the class Gym Buddy was talking about how weird it was imagining she was beating someone up.

‘Why were you doing that?’ I asked.

Anyway, it turns out the instructor spent the entire class yelling things like , 'Bring their head to your knee!' and 'Smash them with your fist!' and each section of the class was an imaginary fight with someone!

I honestly had no clue that all that was going on. It took all the visual ability I have to follow the moves, and I just thought how each move was tackling problem areas. So during a knee lift and back kick, I was thinking, 'Tight butt, shapely thighs', while poor Gym Buddy was thinking, 'Kill, kill, kill!'

For once, I was actually quite happy not to hear it!

Our next class is Legs Bums and Tums so hopefully I won't need my hearing too much for that because and as far as I know it's not Legs Bums and Tums Combat so we won't be beating up imaginary people in the process!

Oh, and this doesn't mean the gym has given up on the whole doctor's note debacle either! At the moment I am getting around it by just going to classes and not having an induction! MADNESS!

Who has more fun? Deaf, or hearing people?!

Today I woke up at grumpy o'clock!

Honestly, I'm not enjoying being deaf at the moment, which is silly because it's not like I have any other option is it?

As part of my work for Superdrug, I've been set the challenge of writing a blog about who has more fun, blondes or brunettes.

If I'm honest, much as I love writing for Superdrug, this challenge has not left me feeling inspired. I mean, aren't we each responsible for making our own fun? And what about ginger people?!

Such a shame I can't apply this attitude to how I am feeling right now.

For example, pondering the blonde/brunette question led me to ask one of my own: who has more fun? Deaf or hearing people?

No wait, let's get even more specific. Who has more fun? Deaf me, or the hearing people I know?

The sensible part of me, the same part that's willing me to enter into the spirit of the Superdrug challenge and just get on with it, is currently chiding the self-pitying part of me for being so ridiculous.

But let's look at the evidence…

I’m in a bar with a group of girly mates and a selection of guys come and chat to us. Soon my friends are all deep in conversation with their men while I am left frantically trying to stop the guy focussing on me from screaming down my broken ear.

When I've finally achieved this, he's lost interest because to my right there's a girl whose ear he can scream down.

So it's 15/Love to the hearing people.

Recently, I went out to dinner with a group of all couples – who were all absolutely lovely. The weather was amazing, so we sat in the garden. I tried to follow group conversation but in the darkness it was hard to lipread, so I inevitably started chatting to the guy on left of me, as hearing him was no problem. He was also very interesting and had some helpful advice for me regarding several ideas I have in the pipeline.

It was only when someone passed comment on the fact we'd been chatting for a long time that I realised that chatting to someone all night because they're the only person you can hear is not what other people see – this worried me. What had they seen? Had I upset anyone?

So it's 30/15 to the hearing people.

Then there's the minefield that is telephone calls. Regardless of what people say, this is still the way to build relationships, catch up and erm… have fun.

40/15

Add to this an advantage point of being more attractive to potential employers and not needing a doctor's note to join a gym (the DDA holds no fear to some) and there's only one more move to win the game...

So what's the winning serve?

I think that’s the fact that I'm sat here feeling sorry for myself.

You see, while I'm doing that, hearing people are having more fun, and quite a few deaf people probably are, too.

What I’ve got to do is utilise what I've learnt, rather than beat myself up during the painful learning process.

I've got to accept I will never meet guys in bars – but then I don't know many meaningful relationships that have begun in one. I now know not to monopolise the company of one person just because I can hear them, as other people judge, and I've got to accept that life isn't always fun.

Life is a challenge. Guess I'd better get on with current Superdrug one then.

Wish me luck!

My Ross-from-Friends moment

Today is Thankful Friday.

I am thankful that my experimental peanut butter and honey chicken stir-fry didn’t poison Gym Buddy last night when she came for dinner, and that we are both alive and well at work today in spite of me entering a bus lane facing the wrong way when I was driving her home last night. At least she no longer fears death after that particular car journey!

I am also thankful that I have a relatively quiet weekend ahead – it’s London Aunt’s wedding anniversary on Sunday, so we’re going for lunch for that, and I am meeting Friend Who Knows Big Words for a lunchtime gossip on Saturday. But apart from that I will just be doing as much exercise as I can.

The reason for this is I have become a little rounded at the edges of late.

After the slimming effects of a nasty bout of Crohn’s last year, I have managed to regain all the weight I lost and add a little bit more for good measure, and it’s had a disastrous effect on the fitting of my clothes!

The other night, while walking home from work, I stopped off to use a public loo. I was hot from the walking and as I tried to pull my jeans up, I had a Ross from Friends moment. You know the scene where he wears leather pants on a date and can’t get them back up in the bathroom?

Well that was me. Stuck in a central London toilet wondering how the heck to get my jeans up in the confines of a small cubical.

In the end I did a kind of Hips Don’t Lie move and the jeans were up – but it was a moment I do not want to repeat…

*blush

So, yes, a weekend of exercise for me it is then.

And, if you see me running around the park with my egg timer this weekend, be sure to stop and say hellooooooo!