Lifestyle

Get it together…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

Before I embark on the finale there are some things I need to get off my chest. Of course I am talking And Just Like That (AJLT). This second series is determined to piss us all of. Let’s get into it.

We can start with the open goal that was Lisa’s pregnancy story. They had the perfect opportunity to show an accurate portrayal of abortion. According to stats for the USA, the majority of those seeking abortions are already mothers. Instead of having a real conversation about her needs & options, they chose a brief exchange devoid of anyone actually saying the word abortion. The wrapped it up with the usual tv cop out of her having a miscarriage. Given the current attacks on reproductive rights I think this was a cowardly decision. More than ever we need honest, unashamed representation. A show like AJLT should be a natural place to do that.

On the flip side, I loved Charlotte’s drunken outburst. This highlighted an experience many mothers have. Almost every married Mother I know takes on more of the family labour than her partner. The constant need to be on top of every detail of everyone’s life is exhausting. Charlotte’s frustration was warranted & I am so glad she decided to let them have it. Letting Richard Burton into the room after slamming the door was the icing on the cake. As for Rock & their notebook; I’d have been firmly in the suck it up camp.

Now we come to the bit that got my blood pressure soaring. Che. What the fuck was that? Their stand up was woeful. It wasn’t funny. It wasn’t remotely truthful. It had gross gatekeeping undertones & it was cruel. They enthusiastically pursued Miranda with their eyes wide open. Miranda’s boundaries & needs were repeatedly ignored. Che was happy as Larry until their career & ego took a knock. Their self pitying ‘this is who I am’ rant was epically unlikeable. Who you are is an arsehole. Enjoy.

While we’re on the subject, what the hell was Carrie playing at? Her arse should have been up & out that door seconds in. A real friend would have grabbed Miranda’s hand and taken her home. Further more Che’s dinner invite should have been immediately rescinded. If anyone dared to speak to my friend in that manner, never mind so publicly, they’d be feeling my wrath.

Aidan, Carrie & Miranda are sitting in a dark room with blue lighting.

Carrie did slightly mitigate her ‘mistake’ bullshit when she talked about her marriage with Charlotte’s boss. Man alive, though, she’s getting on my wick. Her relationship with Aidan is exactly what it always was. He continues to passive aggressively let her know she will never be entirely forgiven. His ex pops up to protect him, her beloved apartment has to go and all the while I’m screaming STOP. Obviously trouble was looming and it comes with the worst crying scene I have ever witnessed. Seriously, that was some bad acting. I

Aidan is crying in the front seat of a car.

How will it all end? We know there will be a Samantha cameo. I can only hope she talks some sense into everyone.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon .

Sweet Little Mystery…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

Regular readers might have noticed the downturn in my long form content. There’s a very simple reason for that, chronic illness.

This year has been one thing after another. The last few months in particular have been gruelling. The problem with having chronic conditions is you often find yourself fire fighting. There are so many symptoms, it is impossible to properly deal with everything. You end up addressing the most problematic at any one time. Plus of course it can be hard to get Drs to really investigate many issues. Often they’ll just chalk up to an already diagnosed illness. Sometimes they’ll try to mitigate that symptom & others you are basically told you’ll have to live with it. I always have questions that aren’t answered. Unfortunately I run out of steam to pursue them. When you are always tired & in pain you must pick your battles.

Of course being fat complicates matters. The first response more is usually something about losing weight or questioning my diet. When I fight against that there will be what I call ‘subterfuge tests’. I’ve had more fasting bloods & cholesterol tests than anyone ever needs. After years of Drs refusing to believe anything I tell them, I find it is easier to just go for the bloods & prove myself right.

The last few months have been relentlessly hard. Pain has been consistently more severe. Digestive tract refuses to behave. I’m fainting daily. I’ve had the worst bout of insomnia of recent years, but even when my body eventually gives into the exhaustion; I awake feeling just as tired. Brain fog has punctured my old articulacy. I struggle for words in everyday conversation. I have lists & notes for every little thing. If it isn’t written down, it will never happen. My skin itches, my head hurts, alarming bunches of hair are falling out, I’m breathless, nauseous & anxious. ALL THE TIME.

I have suspected that something was going for a while. I can’t explain except to say that my body didn’t feel like it belonged to me. These ailments have been breaching my outer limits. So, I had some blood tests that revealed elevated numbers. My Gp wanted to test again a few weeks later to rule out a random blip. They came back slightly higher. A new medical mystery was born.

Three blood test bottles

The high numbers are related to my liver function. There isn’t an obvious reason for my liver to be pissed off. I hardly ever drink alcohol, I don’t eat meat or dairy, no signs of diabetes. It doesn’t make much sense. Possible culprits include my missing gallbladder & bile duct complications, covid & no doubt my weight will become a factor too. I await scans & next steps.

All this to say, I am currently operating on a wing & prayer. And I’m not even religious.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Big Mistake?

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

It’s And Just Like That time again. I’m a week behind for reasons. One of which is all the emotions I had over episode 8. It’s just a tv show, but I feel betrayed.

I already expressed my concerns about Aidan’s return. Well, they continue. The whiny baby still won’t step foot in Carrie’s apartment. So, now Carrie is renting Che’s place. Am I the only one who hearing the masculinity so fragile klaxon?

Pandering aside Carrie is slipping into icky habits. All of sudden her only topic of conversation is Aidan. She’s forgotten about her summer plans with Seema & then just assumes it would cool to bring her boyfriend. It’s not kind. Especially when the Seema wanted to share a beach house to avoid staying with married friends. Carrie knows her friend doesn’t want to be a 3rd wheel, it is shitty to pretend she isn’t creating an uncomfortable dynamic.

Two women wearing hairdressers gowns standing outside under umbrellas

Then of course we have the heartbreaker. A couple of weeks shagging Aidan & she’s wondering if her soulmate was mistake. Fuck Off. Carrie didn’t want to settle down and have Aidan’s kids. She didn’t want to move to Virginia. She absolutely would not be living in a house with free roaming chickens. It’s all fine and dandy to reconnect & find themselves more compatible now. However, denying the reality of their previous relationship is just stupid. She broke out in a rash trying on a wedding dress. Carrie was never going to live happily ever after Aidan. Moreover, dismissing her life with Big is just gross. I have no idea what the writers were thinking. Have the new writers even watched Sex & The City? You don’t spend over a decade crafting an epic love story & expect viewers not to be invested.

I was still fizzing over the conversation with Miranda when Carrie doubled down. Her response to Che wondering why her & Aidan didn’t work out first time round was a twist of the knife. ‘I made a mistake’. What was her error? The affair, not marrying Aidan, choosing her dead husband? It’s vile. Also, who asks that question in those circumstances? They both had other lives, let it lie.

If Carrie wasn’t making sick enough, Charlotte was ready to poke my gag reflex. Her whole shape wear, soup diet story line was a fat phobic yawn. The resolution was worse. She saw a fat woman not hating herself, so now she could accept her objectively slim body. Seriously? Do better. Much better.

I know I care too much, but come on! These characters are flawed enough, let’s not make them impossible to watch. Before I brave the next episode I’m off to deal with real life & gain some perspective!

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Catch the wave…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

The summer holidays are an excellent time for adventures. I have been embarking upon a few with my little ones. I wanted to share all the fun and of course my gorgeous attire.

A couple of Fridays ago my sister planned an epic day trip. A 6am start, 400mile round trip taking in seafaring disasters, engineering miracles and some of the softest sand Scotland has to offer.

My nephew is pirate mad, so our first stop was at Corpach Basin to see his very first shipwreck. The winding track down to the beach was too much for me, but the boy absolutely loved it. I had a little chill by the canal while they explored & took lots of pics for me.

A little boy looking at a shipwreck on a beach

Back in the car, we drove through the most incredible scenery. The sun was out in force as we made it Glenfinnan Viadict just in time for the train. Well, we would have been if it hadn’t been cancelled that day. The bridge itself is still spectacular and since none of us give a toss about Harry Potter missing the train wasn’t a big deal. The viewing point was again not possible for me. I did find a nice bench with a perfectly good view whilst the boy & his Mummy ambled up rocky hillsides. If you are planning a visit I’d suggest getting there early. The car park was full and we only got in because of my blue badge.

Then it was time for the main event. A little more driving through green mountains to reach Arisaig and the stunning Camusdarach Beach. My clever sister found this treasure. You have to do a mini trek through some greenery, but oh man is it worth it. Soft golden sand, blue sea and a clear view of Muck & Eigg.

Beautiful pale sand beach with view of islands across water.

We were so lucky to get a warm sunny day. I kept having to remind myself I was still in Scotland. My Sis & her boy played football, tennis, jumped waves & explored sand dunes. I watched from my beach chair & read Private Eye when the disappeared from sight. It was one of those perfect days that make me feel oh so lucky.

A beach day calls for comfort. A beach day in Scotland needs to adapt to whatever weather is thrown at you. Hence, I tried out my brand new playsuit. Soft fabric, loungey fit and pockets. With added bonus of making me look adorable. I packed my handy light weight anorak and hoody just in case, but neither was required.

ly is standing on a beach wearing a black playsuit. She has one hand on her hip and is leaning on a walking stick with the other.
Play Suit – Simply Be

This Friday I stayed closer to home, but had just as much fun. My bestie & I decided to take her brood to Glasgow Science Centre. I’m a big fan of the place, never taken a child who didn’t love it. The science centre is the perfect place to entertain a 5 year old and toddler twins. There’s something for everyone and they especially love being able to touch everything.

We arrived shortly before 12 and stayed until closing. Even after 5 hours no one wanted to leave. Particular favourites were the water play area, captaining a ship & disappearing bodies. It’s an amazing place and getting hands on really helps little minds get to grips with big concepts. It is amazing watching my niblings get excited about experiencing new things. I am so happy to be a part of their adventures.

This week I debuted another newbie. This dress was a gift from my Mum, but I picked it. I love the vibrant green and how good my boobs look. Definitely going to be wearing the hell out of this one.

ly is standing in living room with her hands on her hips. She is wearing a lime green peas at dress and a leaf print kimono.
Dress – Marks & Spencer Kimono – Boohoo

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Big love?…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

I’m a women of a certain age. I’ve been proposed to twice, but never married. I’ve gotten lost in crazy love, hurt by the stormy, comfortable in the familiar, heartsick over the not to be me and everything else in between. I think much of the romance has probably been knocked out of me by now.

And then I tune into Carrie & co and have second thoughts. The parts of And just like that I can’t get in step with are the ones that shatter the fantasy. I may be jaded in real life, but my desire for happily ever after persists. Some people enjoy the life like twists, I want no part in the angst.

Unless of course it’s just a stop off on route to joy. I’ll suffer a short detour if it makes the destination sweeter, but I have zero tolerance for wading around mapless. Miranda’s second series arc is killing me. I loved her & Steve. His portrayal as some old sad sack was bad enough. Now he’s cold, manipulative and pathetically shagging randoms. It doesn’t add up. How did we get from tenderly embracing how lucky they were to have each other pre Big’s funeral to their current soulless stalemate? Every time we’re given a glimpse of the love they once had it gets tarnished with a turn of events that feels shoe horned to make this storyline work. Couldn’t we have watched them meet new people, explore new challenges and use what they learned to grow together? Maybe that sounds like an unattainable ideal, but I absolutely do not care. I’ve gone through all the shit with these characters. I want the fluff!

I could have gotten on board if Miranda and Che had been the real deal. Perhaps if the plot had included Steve moving towards healing & accepting that he needed more too. Some respect and affection would have gone a long way. Stale marriage, exciting short lived relationship and ending up sleeping in a single bed in your mates spare room doesn’t cut it. Everyone’s sad. I know my head is filled with rom com nonsense, but I want the pipe dream.

The return of Aidan also gives me the heebie jeebies. Big is gone, obviously Carrie has to move on to drive the drama. I understand going full circle. Big & Aidan are her ‘two big loves’, but come on. He couldn’t get through one evening without getting whiny. Aidan was a nice enough man, but it never felt like he actually wanted Carrie. He wanted a version of her that fitted his needs. Now he’s back and already not happy with her life. Perhaps I’m harsh, I found his little I can’t go back up there hissy fit ridiculous. If you’re not over the past, there can’t be a present. Is Carrie going to have to start pandering to his nonsense again? After colouring outside the lines with her soulmate I can’t help wondering if this is a memory lane best not wandered down.

I want ‘you’re the one’ on Parisian bridges or vowing never to take off one’s wedding ring. Real life is messy enough, let me get my true love vicariously please.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Take it or Leave it…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

Recently I had what turned out to be naive idea. I was thinking about how I should be getting out more, break out of my routine, stop missing cool things I wanted to see. All good thoughts. Then I got cocky. I thought, hey, maybe I should meet some new people too. Bad thought.

I decided it might be fun to combine fun dating with interesting happenings. Of course I was entirely forgetting how low my tolerance levels are. So, what’s a girl to do? Write about it of course.

Date 1

We’ll call him Grey. Started off very well. We chatted a little online, he was engaging & intelligent. We shared plenty of interests. It didn’t hurt that Grey was handsome in exactly the way I like. When he suggested we check out Books at The Botanic I thought, this guy has potential. Then I spent an hour browsing books with a man who had clearly consumed some toxic pick up guy content. Every title I picked was beneath him. He commented on how surprised he was that I would enjoy ‘typically girlie stuff’ like Jane Austen. There were a couple of jokes about my never having been married. When he wondered if I could ‘strengthen’ my arthritic knees if I didn’t use my walking stick all the time I was done. No man is handsome enough to get away with such patronising bullshit.

Antique green leather bound Jane Austen Novels

Date 2

Cute & quirky, he seemed like fun. We had some enjoyable back & forth. Let’s call him Ha Ha. We met for sushi at a place he suggested. So, it was a surprise to me that he commented on the prices being too high. The chat was good, he was funny. It felt like we were both having fun. Lots of laughs led to cocktails and again, he wasn’t happy about the price tag. I was now officially uncomfortable. I get really embarrassed about this kind of thing. I don’t like to talk about money with people I don’t know well. Bitching about the price of a cocktail in a place you picked, gives me the ick. I drank my margarita & tried to think of a non awkward way to assure him I was happy to pay. I needn’t have bothered, on arrival of the bill he immediately started adding what he had consumed. I told him it was my treat and to ease any weirdness, that he could get the tip. I don’t mind picking up the tab. I could even have tried to get past the cringe. When I saw him placing a one pound coin tip on the table; I was out. That kind of cheapness is an absolute no.

Date 3 & 4

This one is a familiar story. I’m always very up front about my relationship wants. Marriage doesn’t feel like a thing I’m going to be a part of. I’m not even keen on the idea of living with someone. I enjoy my space, I like to make my own decisions. In short, I like my life. I’m in no rush to go turning it all upside down. I’m very much a ‘take it easy’ kind of girl. All of which was A OK with him. Until we hit that 2nd date. Say hello to Mr Fickle.

First date was cool. We went to a really nice tea place. The conversation flowed easily. He complimented more than my appearance. The man was interested and interesting. All good, I was down to see him again. The replay didn’t go so well. All of a sudden Mr Fickle wants to dig into how serious I am about not wanting to get married. He wants to assure me of what a great prospect he is. I keep diverting, but he brings us right back to topics that are not second date material. There wasn’t a third.

Date 5

This one was short and sweet. He’s a guy I briefly worked with a while ago. We’d stayed in touch via social media. He chatted me up a bit and I thought, why not? A query that was swiftly answered when he argued that those Jonah Hill texts were reasonable. I christened him Red Flag & made a sharp exit.

A row of red flags blowing in the wind.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Cut + Run…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

When one of the world’s most illusive artists decides to stage a retrospective in your city, you have to go. Banksy said they choose Glasgow because they were drawn to impromptu art often found in the city.

The Front of GoMA. Stone columns with triangular roof. With a Banksy banner hanging down one column.

A prime example being the cone permanently perched upon the Duke of Wellington right outside GoMA. For years Glasgow City Council tried to put a stop to the cone hat. In the end the removing & preventing was costing so much that they had to embrace the cone. The spirit of those folks who just kept climbing on up obviously appealed to Banksy as the cone appears in clever ways throughout the exhibit.

Duke of Wellington on a horse statue with a traffic cone on his head.

Background covered, let’s get down to the art. The show was even better than I hoped. Very clever staging and preventing the use of phones meant there were plenty of surprises. The art itself chimes with many of my takes on the world, so I obviously enjoyed the context. It was interesting to have look at the thoughts behind pieces I had seen before. Also very cool to see the evolution of the artist. As we all had to lock up our phones, the offer of free Polaroids was a nice touch. It’s a big tick from me.

Accessibility wise GoMA itself is good. The set up of the exhibition makes things a little trickier. The very beginning of the exhibit might feel a little tight for wheelchair users. There are also only two places you could sit throughout, which I found hard going. It’s worth calling in advance to ask for accommodations you need.

The graffiti wall as you leave the building is a fun thought. Very cool to let folk release their inner creativity.

Tickets & Info here.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Charity of the Month…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

This month’s donation was prompted by a piece in Private Eye about Rohingya refugees. To my shame I didn’t know the details of their current situation. The article explained the World Food Programme being forced to cut rationing at Rohingya refugee camps in Bangladesh.

Since fleeing violence in Myanmar the Rohingya refugees have been reliant on food aid. The rising cost of food has impacted limited how far WFP stretch. The current budget is $8 a month per person. This allows for about 450 calories a day; half of a toddlers daily requirements. This will inevitably result in malnutrition and even more suffering. The world doesn’t seem to be paying attention, as I said I wasn’t aware of this situation. If you can please donate to the UN’s WFP. They are active in over 120 countries helping people in most precarious situations.

Things I liked in June…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

Not So Gloomy

I stumbled upon this article about the discovery of octopus cities. The gloomy octopus was thought to be solitary until biologists discovered two octopus communities in Australian waters. I just love the description of their behaviour and the way they have built their homes. I especially love the names given to these underwater metropolises; Octopolis and Octantlis. Perfect!

Gloomy octopus on sea bed, with one arm curled up and the rest extended.

Prince of Thieves

During bad insomnia bouts I often seek middle of the night distraction. When exhausted & fed up I want very specific viewing, something that doesn’t require too much concentration & won’t give me bad feels. Last week Kevin Costner’s stint as Robin Hood fitted the criteria. I hadn’t seen it in decades & was pleasantly surprised by the happy memories it brought up. You see, I originally viewed this film at the cinema in 1991. I’m one of four kids and as such cinema trips were complicated. No one wanted to see this film. At 15 my oldest brother was mortified to be anywhere with the rest of us. My next brother was hyped for one of the naked gun sequels. I was absolutely desperate to see Don’t Tell Fred (still haven’t caught it), my wee sis craved a cartoon and I think my parents were sorry they brought us. Anyway, much bickering & ‘we’ll take you all home’ later we settled in for the Robin & gang. A miracle happened, we all loved it. As I watched I remembered how much fun we had that afternoon and felt all kinds of nostalgia.

Robin Hood Prince of Thieves movie poster. Kevin Costner holding bow and and aiming flaming arrow.

Bye Boris

Of course I would like more consequences for the over privileged fuckwit, but removal from parliament is a start. Resigning rather than face further scrutiny is cowardly, but at least he is removed from a position of power. I sincerely hope his political career is dead & buried.

Red glitter necklace that says Fuck Boris

Cooling Cola

It’s too damn hot! I know, I’m never happy. I can handle the cold and I can’t handle the sun either. Once the temp climbs over the early 20’s I am struggling. Thus I have been devouring ice lollies. It has made me very happy to find that calypo now have a cola lolly. My deepest love frozen. Yes please.

Close of ly eating an ice lolly. She is wearing blue cat eye glasses and a gold septum ring.

Good Day Sunshine

The sun has its hat on for a while now. If I think about it too much, I realise that is a terrifying sign of global warming. For the sake of not drifting into existential doom, I won’t. A bit of sunshine does feel nice. It makes everyone a little cheerier. I can pretend I’m on holiday. I can wear my sunnies all the time & fan myself dramatically. Mr Sun is beginning to push his luck; I don’t need 27°C daily. I do still enjoy seeing everyone else love it.

Towering Downfall

The indictments are piling up. Things are beginning look precarious for the ex president. I’m still scared he’ll somehow wriggle out of trouble. However, given he has repeatedly admitted, nah boasted that he has done everything he is accused of, it is difficult to see how he can escape punishment. I am desperately hoping one of these prosecutions at the very least puts a stop to him running for office.

Private Eye

The last few issues have been particularly good. It just brings a little joy to my life. Simple as that.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Care a little…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

About a week ago I had a telephone appointment with one of the Gps from my practice. I haven’t had much interaction with this Dr and it did not go well.

After a brief conversation about the symptoms concerning me, she suggested we start with some basic tests and swiftly moved on to checking my weight. I asked why she wanted my weight and explained if not medically necessary I did not want to be weighed. The Dr replied that she would like to calculate my BMI. I told the Dr that BMI wasn’t scientifically sound and I didn’t want to discuss it. I’m sure you can guess how the appointment went from there.

It was the usual gaslighting and time wasting. According to the GP she would be negligent if she did not assess my BMI. I reiterated my objections to her weight focused approach, all of which were dismissed. The appointment was taken up with this back & forth instead of actually discussing my actual problems. I have informed various practitioners at the surgery about my preferences with regards to being weighed, discussing weight loss etc. I have disclosed my history of disordered eating and how intentional weight loss is detrimental to my mental health. I’ve also discussed the harm caused to me by weight stigma, which includes near fatal misdiagnosis and long term health implications. All of these conversations should be recorded in my notes as per my request. Yet still, I find myself regularly having these interactions whilst trying to access medical care.

A blue bathroom scale that reads doesn’t matter

Given our in-depth conversation about why I wouldn’t be weighed without solid medical reason, I had hoped that might be the end of it. I was fairly surprised when I saw the nurse yesterday for bloods and she asked me to ‘hop on the scale’. I gave her my standard, I don’t do weighing unless medically necessary. The nurse then told me that the Dr had specifically noted that she must makes sure she weighs me. I was internally furious, but calmly explained to her that I had already told the Dr I wouldn’t be doing that. Luckily, she left at that.

I am chronically ill. I have lots of interactions with medical folk. I am flat out exhausted before we get to the fat phobia. I often don’t have the fight in me, but I’m forced into battle. There is no let up. If I don’t assert myself I will not get the care I need. I know from bitter experience just how dangerous that is. The problem remains that even when I do stand my ground, the medical profession is want to shove back. Either I am entirely ignored or I am labelled difficult. It’s endless and wearing.

The persistence of these attitudes feels like a war of attrition on the patient side. It’s draining. No matter how many times I make my wishes known, they are ignored. Coming to appointments armed with facts, evidence and clear description of how this weight stigma harms me, makes no difference. Today was a classic example of this. I wasted my time discussing very personal & traumatic experiences with a Dr in order to justify declining to be weighed. She simply set it all aside and took action that she knew would harm me. I shouldn’t have to justify not wanting to do things that are not necessary or helpful to my treatment in the first place. However, it is clear regardless of how much time & energy I invest in explaining why intentional weight loss talk is detrimental to me, medical professionals will not listen. The stress of always having to be prepared for a fight is immense.

I will of course take steps to address this latest event with my practice. I can only hope they take action to protect me. It won’t bring the discussion of my weight to a close. There will still be another specialist, nurse or hospital consultant who views me as first fat and second a person in need of medical care. Right now the knowledge of that is way too overwhelming.

If you enjoy what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.