Mainly for the vaginas
OK, so no drama so far, but a stomach bug, yes. I'm really not bothered though, which sounds strange, but I if I were to be honest, I really felt as if I needed a few days to myself, to enjoy the Olympics, whilst sleeping and eating when the fancy took me, which is exactly what I've done today and it feels good. Why I have to be ill to give myself permission to do this is beyond me. Oh guilt, how I loathe thee!
What I really want to blog about is the best thing I've watched in an awful long time. BBC Four aired the first two of six, hour long sections, of a documentary called Flying: Confessions of a Free Woman tonight. If you have a vagina, then you need to watch this, it's primarily filmed and focused on a single woman in her forties, who documents the love, sex and career life of herself and her friends. It's truly compelling stuff and full of 'light bulb' moments.
I guess what also compelled me about it, was the following of one of her friends that was diagnosed with a brain tumour, was told it could be fully removed with no adverse effects, but found herself living with not all the tumour removed and chronic pain for which she took morphine daily. Yeah, I guess I would find that compelling, not necessarily in a negative way, just in a comparison way and also weirdly comforting.
So anyway, if you get a chance, hunt it out, or alternatively, keep an eye on BBC Four for upcoming episodes or repeats, you'll be glad you did.
On another subject, I finally think I may have overcome my fear or blogging without expectations. I'm a perfectionist and nothing brought that out of me more than the quality and quantity of my writing. Blogging manically, then failing to blog for a few days, so giving up and not blogging at all, because, 'what's the point, I've failed to be consistent' has been an ongoing saga. I read so many bloggers that have struggled with the same feelings and I just seem to have naturally come to feel comfortable with blogging badly, both quality and quantity, if that's all I have to give at the time.
The funniest conversation I've heard this week;
'Micheal Phelps is a butterface, I'm sorry, but he is!'
'You don't have to see his face if you're sitting on it!'
