heartbreak

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 Further more Che’s dinner invite should have been immediately rescinded.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 .

Penis Envy…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 4 Comments
Continuing with my plan to share some writing from archives I give you this. Something tongue in cheek & a little bit dirty that I wrote many years ago. Have a happy weekend. 
This is perhaps a little crude, but I refuse to believe I am the only person to ever feel this way. Others must have the same longing.

There comes a point in a break up when you know you are going to be ok. You suddenly realise, I can get over this amazing man. It will take time, but I know I’ll get there.
I’m just not sure that I can get over his dick. It’s wonderful; really, truly gorgeous. It is everything I want from a dick.
Big.
Oh, I know, size isn’t supposed to be important, but I like a big dick. Not insanely big, just big enough to cause a little gasp when you first see it.
Perfectly proportioned.
Smooth.
Inviting.
Fuck it, just nice. You get the picture.
I miss it. Of course I miss him, the man attached is more important, but I believe I can move on.
He might not have been the right man, but he certainly has the right penis. I may never meet another one like it. It did all the right things. We’re always being advised to invest in quality. Be it materials, ingredients or equipment. Surely this advice stands for cock. Let’s face it, sex was unlikely to go wrong with that in his pants.
I am sad that I probably won’t ever see it’s full glory again. I feel I should be allowed one last goodbye. Or perhaps, visitation.
Can you get penis access?
Dick alimony?
I realise this may seem shallow, but it brought joy to my life. That cock made me feel great. It hardly seems fair that I should be heart broken and deprived of my favourite pleasure source. I’m really quite upset about this. Some other woman might end up with my dick.
I wonder if I should raise my concerns with him (the man, I don’t talk to the penis) or just hire a lawyer? I could set a precedent.

Swallow it down….

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 5 Comments

I’m struggling to believe that Jagged Little Pill is twenty years old this month. How can two decades possibly have passed since Alanis first got angry? More importantly how the hell did I get so old?

  

Jagged little pill has always been special for me. From teenage not quite angst to bonified adult pain, Alanis has had my back. So, I thought I’d pay tribute to an epic album & the journey we’ve been on together. 

Let me take you back to the start.  I’m 14yrs old & life is good. I have lovely friends, great home life, I do well at school. There is no teenage misery for me. There is however, frustration; a sense of being on the brink of life. I’m beginning to build a picture of what I want from life. I’m challenging some the things I’ve been taught & I don’t feel like my life view is taken seriously. In amongst all the vexation is an excitement. Possibilities are starting to fizz, I am aware of the power of youth & I can’t wait to weild it. I see right through you encapsulated all that I was feeling & I took every opportunity to sing it at the top of my lungs. 

Fast forward a few years and I’ve finally extricated myself from an unhealthy relationship. I’m heartbroken & angry. Angry that someone has been so cruel & furious with myself for allowing it. It’s Alanis to the rescue, I am certain I’m not the only woman who played You oughta know at full blast, cried her eyes out & felt a little better. 

I had some dark days in my twenties. Dealing with the trauma of miscarriage & resultant depression whilst trying to hold my life together took it’s toll. I became really ill & eventually had to ask for help. The lyrics to Mary Jane really touched a nerve back then. The realisation that I had to admit I wasn’t ok was a hard one, but there was some relief in listening to words I could relate to. It’s amazing how powerful just not feeling alone in your predictament can be. 

Anyone who has experienced difficult periods will tell you that it makes you really appreciate good times. When you’re fighting through bleak lows of severe depression the first glimpses of being ok are beautiful. The relief of finding that right now in this minute you are content makes you want to sing & dance. Hand in my pocket is the perfect tune to accompany this feeling. It’s not about joy or any of the big feelings. It just perfectly sums up the sensation of knowing you can make it. It feels good to believe that  ‘everything’s gonna be fine fine fine’.

A big part of maintaining happiness is knowing when to put yourself first. I have not always been great at this. Knowing when to say no was a hard lesson to learn, but such a valuable one. Walking away from toxic, all take & no give relationships was like shedding dead weight. Suddenly Not the Dr made so much sense. Reaching the conclusion that I was not responsible for other people’s happiness freed me to enjoy the peope who mattered. Sometimes you have to let go. 

You learn is bitter sweet. It signifies getting to a place in my life where I  I’d learned from all my trials. It’s nice to feel in control. In an unfortunate twist of fate mastering one set of problems coincided with the onset of others. This song also represents my chronic illness. The notion of a jagged little pill brings to mind both the handfuls of meds I must take & the metaphorical swallowing of hard to digest facts. 

After all that serious stuff this post needs a little love. Head over feet celebrates that moment when you know for sure that you’ve picked a good one. There is something wonderful about the kind of love that comes without a fuss. Head over feet is all about the bliss that comes with being with someone who treats you right. 

There you have it. Jagged little pill has been my musical friend for many years. There aren’t many thing in life that you love as much at 34 as you did at 13 & this is one. Every time I hear this album I still get all the feels & for me that’s the mark of a classic.