16/09/2007 - 6:10 p.m.

It's ten years to the day since I left home, left Sheffield, to go to uni in Bradford and have the brilliant, non-OCD, friend/boyfriend/pubbing/clubbing-filled life I felt I was missing out on.

Today, when I think of what that slightly naive, sheltered 18-year-old would make of me now, the word that springs to mind is 'respect'. Massive absolute fucking respect. For being 'hardcore' with all my piercings, working in a place where they're not bothered, starting work at 8.30am (at the time, it was a struggle to get out of bed for that time!!), and for being so comfortable with the person I am, and loving the person I am.

As that 18-year-old got used to being at uni and being, well, 18, I think she'd have been shocked that I still haven't have full sex yet, and that I'm single. As her impatience grew with comparing herself to others who had already had sex/boyfriends, she may look at my life and think, 'cool, but what took you so long to be happy?!?!'

All in all, I firmly believe that who I am now is the 28-year-old woman that the 18-year-old girl would aspire to be. And that makes me feel proud of how far I have come in so short a time (since the start of the Plan). As to what took me so long to start loving, accepting, and trusting myself, I don't have an answer. All I do know is that I am now, and that's the most important thing.

I tell you what, though, the 18-year-old me would have liked Tom very muchly...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Listening to '97 tunes on my iTunes, and have Shooting Fish on DVD to watch later (remember seeing it at the student cinema back in Feb '98).

And the best thing about today? Loads of my clothes from my student days now fit again. Yes, clothes I wore when I was eighteen fit me again. Especially ace is the gorgeous patchwork-print maxi skirt that I missed so much when I couldn't get into it.

Had Sunday brunch at the Common Place after getting in some '97 food (nice and spicy niknaks and rice crispie squares, anyone?), then got a paper and went to the North Bar for a half of Liefmans Kriek (which is stronger than the bottled version in the supermarkets). Gorgeous yummy dark-haired slim bloke (whose name's Phil, I think) served me - looking at him while reading my paper. Imagined huggling him - he looks like a good huggler.

Talking of hugs, got hugged (twice) by a group of Free Hugs people. I miss being hugged and huggled and held.

Anyway, food and PARTAY and film!!!!!!

Yvonne, you fucking rock.

�

previous - next

Now it is one - 03/02/2008

RIP: The soul of Leeds - 18/01/2008

Happy new year and all that - 09/01/2008

Ten years of independence - 16/09/2007

Googlepops and Tom <3 - 08/09/2007