This blog seems to be mirroring my real-life needs in the way that I’m feeling an increasing need to use this space to write about myself. But I’m so deeply entrenched in all things Arlo, that I’m having a hard time working out what there is to write about me (just as I am, in real life, trying to sort out who I am separate from Arlo. What has remained and what has changed in the aftermath of that first leap into motherhood). So, I thought this might be a good place to start. An introduction of sorts.
When I was younger, I watched a bit too much Changing Rooms and wanted to be an Interior Designer. Or a writer. And then later into my teens, a photographer.
A couple of years ago, after falling in love with the whole collection, I bought a Mike and Chris leather jacket. It is the only remotely designer-type item of clothing that I own, and it is also the most expensive thing I have ever bought for myself despite being half price when I bought it.
I saw Michael Jackson in concert when I was five. I remember the bass reverberating right through me. I would like to claim this as my first concert, but my parents took me and my brother with them to see Eric Clapton when I was three. They had a box at the Albert Hall and I remember sleeping on a pile of coats at the back when it got way past our bedtime.
I have always lived in London, apart from Uni, when I lived in Brighton.
I have a hard time making the commitment to choose favourites, but if I was going to recommend a book, it would be The Poisonwood Bible.
I think my favourite film might be ET.
I am most definitely a dog person rather than a cat person.
This year is the first since I was twelve that I have not had a job. My first job was a paper round. I was the first girl that my boss had employed, and he wasn’t convinced that I could carry the same amount of papers on my bike as the boys could. Obviously, I proved him wrong.
My favourite thing on TV at the moment is Parks and Recreation.
I am ambidextrous. Kind of. I can write with both hands, but usually use my left, so that hand is stronger, neater and quicker as a result. For most other things, sports, using scissors and knives etc, I use my right hand.
I was born with only half my left ear. Well, the other half was there, but it had grown under the skin so it wasn’t visible, and was all knarled and misshapen. Apparently, it was because of the way my head had rested against the side of the womb whilst I was growing in utero. Shortly before my sixteenth birthday, I underwent corrective surgery on this ear. They freed the existing cartilage and built on it to make it look more of a normal shape, and they took a skin graft from the back of my head to make the top of the ear. I have no feeling in that part of my ear. I was never that bothered by my ear, I think I had the operation mainly because it was my last chance to get it done for free on the NHS (as I was still a child), and I thought it would make it easier to wear my glasses (which it has). In a way, I wish I had left it as it was, as it was intended to be. The day before I went into hospital, I found out my boyfriend had been cheating on me with another girl at school. I had a frustrating two weeks off school with a massive bandage and a shaved section of my head (an unintentional undercut), unable to defend myself whilst everyone at school assumed I was off because I was devastated about the situation with my boyfriend. That was a rough time in terms of teenage drama.
I really like the 80s. Music, films, the awful fashion. I used to have a pretty good knack for naming 80s songs within the first few bars of the song, this skill has lessened considerably since becoming a mum and spending far less time in bars and nightclubs. I’m working on getting it back.
I used to be overly obsessed with the Foo Fighters. Going to all their gigs, hanging outside venues to meet the band, that sort of thing. I first saw them live in 1999, and I think I have since seen them fifteen times. I couldn’t give a shit now.
I really hate oranges. The way the smell lingers on your hands when you touch one makes me feel sick. In the whole of my adult life, I have never eaten an orange, satsuma, clementine…whatever other names those pungent rounded fruit devils go by.
I am scared and fascinated by waves. Some might say I have an irrational fear of large waves. It is true that I spent a proportion of my travels worrying out loud about the chances of a tsunami. This was before the boxing day tsunami (just), when people just laughed off these fears as crazy and irrational. I think I have watched every single documentary made about tsunamis and freak rogue waves.
I have been on Blue Peter. As a human chess piece. I was a pawn and was out on the second move, I think.
I grew up in an extremely wealthy part of London. A house rented for a short period by Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman (yes, that long ago) was on my paper round route (no, I never saw them). My mum has acted as estate agent for a number of famous faces, and I came across quite a few more during my stint of working at the local pub. I could name drop and gossip about my neighbourhood until the cows came home.
I have a habit of fainting in public places and embrassing myself.
I used to be a pretty good swimmer, which is funny considering how unathletic I am now and how little I exercise. I used to train three mornings a week before school and have a couple of medals from various borough competitions. I gave up when I got my paper round as there was a scheduling conflict and I chose the one that made me money.
I sing with a choir. This is something I only started very recently but I’m hoping to continue for a long time.
I can eat a lot of junk in one sitting. This is not a talent.