Doing Some Good.

OK - here's the thing.

October was Breast Cancer Awareness month and several women advertised that fact, pimped the charity and raised awareness by exposing their underwear every Wednesday on Twitter (as you do).

A discussion arose from the bra-exposure which went something like this - "We could do more you know!" "You know, I think you're right! There are so many talented and amazing people on Twitter! We could really do something amazing" - and, as discussions like this one do, it gained a life and momentum of its own and this month we are hoping to shoot the Breast Cancer Awareness Calendars (one with female models, one with male) with photographers, web hosts, printers, business people and non-professional models who have all volunteered to be a part of raising money for something which will save lives.

People have talked to the charity and underwear companies and things are beginning to come together. People have offered to expose themselves to the netherwears. People have offered their time and abilities. People are doing the talking to and making happen in the background. For free.

I don't care whose money we're talking in - that's bloody amazing!

Now. Now I need your help. There's this cynicism which rears its head when you speak to people who do not know you and from whom you want something free. Doesn't matter what cause you are talking about, they are nagged by the belief that you might be taking them for a ride. Which is understandable. Only - when you're not and you really need their help - well, let's just say it isn't helpful!

So - this is what I'm asking you for, my Lovelies! Does anyone know of a photographic studio which might give us free studio time? We're looking for a day (probably a long day), in Birmingham, Bristol or London. It's just - with a personal introduction, they may feel less worried that we're going to shoot a porn film in their name or run away with the lino (or whatever you find in studios! I have no idea!)

And when we have found the studio which will help us make this calendar, we need volunteers to help with transport for those models and other volunteers who need to be in the studio and may not be able to get there easily. And we need you talk about it. Talk to everyone on your list. Talk to everyone you know. Ask them if they are involved (you'll be stunned how many Twitter people are involved!). If they aren't part of the creation, ask them if they'd like to be. Suggest they'd like to watch what's going on (here or on Twitter by following #BCAwareness hashtag) so they can buy a calendar (or one of each gender) when they hit the shelves. Just get it out there.

And, Lovelies? If you are one of the celeb Twitterers I've harassed to come to this post? Get talking about it to people who can have it heard on a huge scale, please? Do something wonderful because you are lucky enough to be in a position to do so!

We have started this project because it matters to us and because we felt cheeky enough to have a go at something worthwhile. And now we need everybody's help. Please.

If you think there's anything you might be able to do? If you don't know what you can do but would like to do something? Let me know. I promise we'll find you a part in this project and a way to be part of something which will raise cash to save lives. Either leave a comment here with a contact address or tweet me on Twitter (@ThisStarChild) or talk to our central guy and photographer on Twitter (@technex)

Please. We really need your help. And if you need any other reason to step up and help us make it happen? Look here

Once upon A Time............

.......... far, far away, there lived a Goblin Tribe.

The Goblin Tribe had spent many generations hiding and fortifying their castle. They had built secret pathways; tunnels; rooms within rooms; and all manner of other, clever stuff. These tricks and illusions were necessary to protect the vast treasure the goblins had gathered. The treasure sat in a room, apparently on full view of anybody passing by, protected by guards and secret passages. The treasure room was almost impossible to gain entry to, unless you had an invitation. Anyone who wanted to be anyone wanted an invitation. Everyone wanted to be able to talk knowledgeably about seeing the Goblin Treasure.

The treasure, itself, was piled in the middle of a glass room. The Goblins in charge of this room had the power to issue invitations to people to come and see the treasure. And, if you came to see the treasure you could walk right up to the pile, roll around in the hoard, fling treasure about and generally cavort in the wealth of the room. It was not possible, though, to take the treasure beyond the confines of the glass room. You could see it clearly from outside; you could fill your pockets with it, once in the room; but you could not take it over the threshold of the room. Protected by strong magic, the treasure simply disappeared from your grasp and reappeared in the pile of treasure from where it had been taken. This was not the only magic protecting the hoard, but it was certainly considered the most powerful!

Now - at about the time we are talking about - there lived a Princess. Don't let this alarm you. Bloody Princesses get everywhere, but with a good insect powder and a sharp comb it is easy to root them out if they infest. However, at this time, there was less of an infestation and more of a irritation of Princess (the commonly used collective noun, by the way!). We are considering one particular Princess, which is a blessing, as trying to consider several at once can leave you feeling like you overdosed on candyfloss and vinegar! So - our Princess..............

Our Princess had not yet received her invitation to view the treasure hoard. She had often walked past the castle, peering through the glass walls, in the hope of drawing attention to herself. She had sometimes stood, with her nose pressed against the hoard wall, watching the Goblins organise and tidy. She had occasionally wandered back and forth near the castle, loudly wondering if she might be invited to view the hoard. Strangely, none of these tactics had worked!

One day, while she was doing her wandering and wondering thing she met a Lesser Prince who was just leaving for home, having viewed, touched and generally enjoyed the Goblin Treasure Room. The Princess decided to ask him how he had managed it. After all, she was a Princess of the local realm. He was a Prince of not-so-very-close. Surely, she was as entitled as he to an invitation?

The Prince explained to her that the invitations were issued by the Goblins who looked after the treasure. If you wanted an invitation, you simply had to ask. The chances were you would be invited to view. Once you had the invitation, you could approach the outer gate, where The Gatekeeper checked your paperwork and then, said The Prince, allowed access to a hall of wonders! He went on to explain that the whole system seemed to work on a principle of honesty and openness. If you wanted something you had to ask for it. The Princess knew she had much thinking to do. This 'honesty' thing was a new idea to her!

Finally, having spent many days in contemplation, she had it all worked out. She approached the gate and left a note for the Treasure Goblins, asking for an invitation. She made sure that she presented a very polite and demure front to The Gatekeeper, understanding that, if anyone could wreck her chances of seeing the treasure, it would be this Gatekeeper. It didn't even matter how hard she simpered through the glass walls of the treasure hall, if the Gatekeeper didn't think she was the sort of person who should enter the hall, she wouldn't be allowed in. The Princess was very pleased with herself. She had worked that much out.

She went from the Gatehouse to the glass walls of the Treasure Hall. There she sat and looked her most attractive. She had said, in her letter to the Treasure Goblins, that she sat in the same place every day, waiting to be invited. And now, she made sure she was always there. Simpering. Looking sweet. Being exactly what she thought would be most attractive to the Treasure Goblins.

Oh! And she was good. Inside the Hall there was agreement that The Princess should have her Invitation. Not a single Goblin could understand how she had been overlooked so far. She was a pretty, simple, sweet creature!! Look at her, out there, with her eager, angelic face! The card was written and posted that day. To ensure that nothing could cause a problem, The Princess was also schmoosing The Gatekeeper. The face she was showing there, though, was not the sweet, innocent, sickly face she had been showing the Treasure Goblins. Rather, she presented a measured, considered, pensive sort of face to The Gatekeeper. They discussed the flow of visitors. They talked about the political ramifications of the local geography. Once, they even talked about the weather, but that was from a geo-sociological perspective. The Princess had done a great job of wriggling her way into people's affections. She had, however, made one mistake. As we shall see.....

The Princess's invitation duly arrived and, on the correct day, at the correct time, she presented herself at the Gatehouse. Slowly, the queue moved forward, The Gatekeeper checking invitations against visitors. Finally, our Princess came to The Gatehouse. She said hello to her friend The Gatekeeper and handed up her invitation. There seemed to be a problem. The Gatekeeper looked from invitation to Princess and back again. Heads were shaken and ways were barred. It became very clear that The Princess was not getting into the Goblin Castle.

Having waited patiently for while, The Princess approached The Gatekeeper and asked what the problem was. It is most confusing, she was told. The face which had been regularly presented to the Gatekeeper was most certainly the face which was being presented for admission to the Castle. However, the face for which the invitation had been issued was another, completely different face. Most confusing. Most bothersome. Most irritating. Most definitely no entry!

Our story ends here - it is not recorded whether The Princess ever made it into the Treasure Hall, nor if the Goblins ever forgave her for presenting a false front. To be fair, I shouldn't think anyone cares. The point is this..........

I may not issue the invitations, Madam, but I sure as hell am The Gatekeeper. If you think, for one bloody moment, that I am taken in by a false fronted approach, you are seriously mistaken. You may well get that invitation you appear to crave, but you can be damn certain that I will have more to say about whether or not you do than you, or your presentation of yourself, will. It runs on honesty. Do not play with me. Absolutely do not try to play me. I will barr your entry, Missy, and I will thoroughly enjoy doing it.

I may not make the offer, but, By God, I have the last word! I suggest you consider that before you make any more approaches for your invitation

Calling All Show Off's, Skillsters and the Connected!

It's all very exciting!

As often happens on Twitter, a silly game has become a really good idea!! We're just at the thinking about it stage right now but I thought I'd tell you and then I can direct you to the blog which is being written for it, when it is posted!

You see, it's like this..... We were playing Air Bands on Twitter a few evenings ago. As you do. Somehow that mutated into a discussion about having a Revue as a fundraising exercise for charity. Which makes perfect sense, in my head!

There is now a flurry of idea bashing and skill seeking going on. So - here's the thing - next week the blog should be operational (Real Life willing) and I will point you at it. Please follow it and check in regularly. You just might be the person we need to overcome a hurdle, or you might know the perfect person to join in and make a difference!

There's a bit of discussion about the charity at the moment, but I'm hoping we can go with our original idea. It's a great charity which makes people safe and gives them an opportunity to take control of their lives again.

If you wanna come on a Magical Beautiful Giving Mystery Tour with us, drop me a line or drop a line in the blog when it appears (I promise to make a fuss about it ;-) )

All the help we can get to give all we can gather and hand over. It's wonderful - from crazy mayhem to making things better.

My kinda game!!




And here it is - Twitfest!!

Twitter-Jailbirds - Top Secret

Please find below the secret identities of the Twitter-Jailbird fraternity. These names have been carefully prised out of informers. The information is a 'Need To Know' package. Not for general release.

Twitter ................... TwitterJail

Jareed007 ................ carlingblack007
Llubyloo .................. Llubyloo2
Weeyin13 .................. Jailed_Weeyin13
ThisStarChild ............. TheGlinda
tattooed_mummy ............ TMautobot
damohopo .................. Sandy_Vagina
Bonnycross ................ BonniecrossNicci

An Open Letter To Mr Brown

(I am perfectly aware this is not a popular view. I have never aimed to be popularist. I would rather be serious about the things it is necessary to be serious about than be 'one of the gang'! Enjoy!)


Sir,

I think, just now, that you face a difficulty specifically created in our society by the magic of Disney. As Politicians lay out their plans and wish lists for the country, the media shines it's best stage lights on the process. They seek James Bond professionalism and Superhero jawlines. Gone are the days when people were automatically judged on the quality, or even quantity, of their work. Now everything and everyone must have a glamorous sheen; a sparkle with which to entrance and beguile. No longer do the public appear content to watch a leader do what must be done and make decisions with which to steer a country. They want pizazz; clever words; a Hollywood make-over; a designer suit and just-cut hair. This has been apparent in other societies for some time. It became obvious in ours in recent years.

It seems to me, though, that a person becomes expert by doing a lot of something. To be skilled, one must put aside those things which don't help the trade in question and concentrate on the acts and knowledge which do. I would suggest that being a skilled television personality, or a clever publicist, is not necessarily helpful to being a great and successful leader of a country. It might woo the weak of mind. It might attract the gaze of the politically disinterested. It does not help a person know how to deal with the issues which will affect the lives of an entire nation.

I have this image of the British public understanding that, in order to find a person to lead us, we must follow the principles of Prince Charming. Seek the prettiest person and see if the glittery shoe fits! These are not qualifications for the task of Premiership. The qualities required are a calm and brilliant mind; a decent and honourable heart; a serious commitment to service; and a willingness to put the nose to the grindstone for other people's benefit. These, Sir, are qualities I believe you posses by the bucketful.

It offends me that our country seeks froth where gravitas is necessary. It confuses me that a discussion about a person's smile, partner or suit is deemed more relevant than their abilities on the global stage. It bothers me that we may elect a shiny simpleton, in political terms, because his image is more 'screen idol' than another's. It is entirely ridiculous to trust a person because they are prettier; smile more often; or are more smooth than others! These, rather, are the qualities of a conman!

I am an Old Labour voter, by nature. I believe in co-operation between state and citizens; building a strong and fair social world; kindness; neighbourliness; and good manners. I believe you work towards providing these things in a day-to-day world. You have the manner of an Old Labour politician. A Public Servant with a job to do. A job so important and consuming to him, that he does not wish to waste time on image and showmanship. I voted for Mr Blair, but was horribly disappointed when he flowered in office. His manner has never felt sincere. Sadly for him, sincerity is not something you can fake! You, on the other hand, feel like a solid, decent man. Someone who would rather get on and do, than talk about how well he will do when he actually starts working!

I hope some common sense prevails, towards the coming election, and people start considering serious topics, such as the global recession; the state of both education and social care in this country; and the withdrawal of our boys and girls from the Middle East. Perhaps, if they can discuss the things that actually need achieving in the next few years, they will start looking for the person who will be willing to work hard, even serve, in order to lead our country towards a more solid future than one of whiter-than-white smiles and empty words.

The whole thing reminds me of the song 'One God' by Beautiful South. I hope we don't make this mistake of being seduced by media friendly images instead of looking for old fashioned values of honesty, worth and decency. It could cost us our future. So, looking towards my fears, if I may end on a quote?

"The world won't end in darkness, it'll end in family fun
With Coca-Cola clouds behind a Big Mac sun"

Being Happy.

I have something to tell you. In fact, what I want to do is brag, but that's terribly bad manners. So, as I am telling you this, please remember that I am doing my best to draw in my more exuberant claims and speak with a controlled and understated tone. Just colour it in a bit brighter, is what I'm trying to say.

I love Ande. There. I've said it. He is the finest, most caring, sweetest, supportive and loveliest human being I know. He is wonderful! And, amazingly, he finds qualities in me which means he loves me back. It blows my mind every time I think about it!

You have all read how he scooped me up and brought me home in a non-stop 800 mile mercy dash. It really was a mercy dash, as neither of us could bear the idea of being without the other a moment longer! Now, as I describe his nature and personality, it will become clear to you why I didn't want to spend another day away from him. I haven't worked out why it was the same for him. It may turn out to be the window into his only flaw! Whatever – let's talk about Ande.

I came back home with him with no job and no income. We were both aware that we would have to live on one income until I secured a post, but now we live with the reality of that. Does he complain that I don't bring anything into the home? No. Does he ask what I have been doing with my time? No. Does he demand a structured job seeking system and an explanation of same? No. He trusts me, one adult to another, to do what I need to do and what I say I will do, to get a job. He trusts that I am as committed to 'one goal, one partnership' as he is. He trusts that I am savvy enough to understand that me getting a job is a good thing for us.

Having said all that, he never lets me feel like I have failed, in any way, by wanting to be with him without being able to bring financial attributes to the partnership. When I start getting fed up with the lack of opportunities or interest in my (strange) CV, he tells me that we shall cope and that being together is important. He reminds me that we knew that we would have to wait to have two wages coming into our fold and that 'it will happen'. Just not today, maybe! He understands that it is important to me to work, to be part of the bread-winning team, to have financial equality in both responsibility and spending power. He does not put me down, or allow me to put myself down. Rather, he reminds me to look forward to the job I should like and to work towards gaining that in a positive and cheerful manner.

Somehow, Ande has tapped into that part of my personality which is my most positive. He relieves me of the pressures and offers up the rewards. He is cheerful in one-wage-osity and excited for me in finding a job which will stretch and engage me. He tells me not to sell myself short and encourages me to reach for the stars. Where I would have been certain I faced only humiliation and public stockades for applying for a post, Ande asks me what the worst is that can happen? Why not put in the cheeky application? They can only say 'No' and that isn't going to hurt. And I just might get it! And when someone notices me in a positive light – when I get an invitation for interview – he is supportive and positive about the fact that my skills and brilliance have brought this to me, if I choose to take it up. He refuses to allow me to take the first wage paying post in order to bring an income in. He'd rather I look for the best I can want.

I have never had a relationship where my partner has supported me and believed in me as I do in my brighter and stronger moments before. To be able to take on a task, like job seeking, which can be dreary and disappointing, and know that the most important person in my life is only going to reflect back positive ideas (or truths offered in a non-judgemental way) is so liberating. I cannot begin to tell you! To be seen as someone who deserves something more than the mundane, is a wonderful feeling. Not to have the 'lack of money' discussion leak into other areas and left for me to beat myself up with is just so refreshing.

There's this theory that you cannot know joy until you have experienced despair. Something like that, anyway. I don't know how true that is. Little children seem to cope well with happiness in families which work hard to provide the brightest, shiniest times for them. Families in which they are protected from (and, so, have not yet experienced) unhappiness. It has to be said, though, that when you have faced negative and damaging relationships you are far more aware of the joys of a healthy relationship. It almost doubles the joys, in reality. Not only do I not have to face the exhaustion of trying to keep myself positive whilst under attack, but I have more support and encouragement to be positive and happy. I feel like a ship, released from a sandbank, now floating freely on the high seas. It's an incredible experience!

So – and you shall hear more about this man, I have no doubt – I love Ande. I love him for his sweet kindnesses. I love him for his strength and protectiveness. I love him for believing in me and for reminding me that I am someone who deserves that belief. I love him for spoiling me and enjoying my childish pleasure in that spoiling. I love him for being someone who forgives my grumbling and loves my silliness. I love that he doesn't tell me off for being me. I love that he revels in my naughtiness. I love that he's clever enough to force me to think in debate. I love that he's generous enough to let me win when it's important to me (but not let it be obvious). I love that he is my equal, and I his, even though we currently have very different household roles.

He's lovely. Really. And I love him.

The Hidden Princess

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, lived a Princess. She knew she was a Princess. Of course she did. Things like that you just know. Unfortunately for her, it wasn't obvious to everyone else. No tiaras; no grand balls; no long frocks; no knights on chargers. She appeared to be like any other little girl. Growing up in Far, Far Away.

She did all the things young girls were supposed to do. Read books about animals; listened to music; saw ruins and historical sites. Well – maybe her life was slightly unusual. Not odd enough to include a Fairy Godmother or a basement of gold (which would have been useful) but just odd enough to make it hard to make friends with the other girls.

Our Princess lived a life on the move. Every couple of years she moved on with the King and Queen (who were successfully pretending to be normal people) and had to learn to start again. New school. New friends. New terrors. As she grew up she grew into a beautiful young woman. Of course, having the most fabulous manners, she had no idea that she was beautiful, but it is apparent when you look back at the secret state photographs (secret, because no one realised they were taking pictures of a Princess.)

Her life became as normal, externally, as it could be, and not a soul knew she was a Princess, gliding through their midst. She made friends and started to create a life just like any other woman of her age. But somewhere, deep in her heart, she knew she had always been a Princess. She knew she just needed to meet her Prince and life would become the grand gala it was always supposed to be.

She did her best to find her Prince, but (and you may not know this) they are few and far between, even in Far, Far Away. She met plenty of men who believed they were Princes. And plenty of men who believed they deserved a Princess on their arm. Even maintaining her childhood routine of moving on every couple of years, she still didn't meet any Princes (it's true, they are a dying breed)

Sometimes she would fall for someone and they would treat her as though she were stupid and needed to be taught how to behave. This was all well and good, until she had learned all they had to teach and craved more. They had nothing left to offer and the monster they had created needed feeding. These relationships failed.

Sometimes she would meet someone and they would see her as someone who could provide for them; social standing; money; cleaning service; company; entertainment; sex. All too soon, though, she would become restless and desire to be seen as an entire human being, worth something in her own, unique right. These relationships failed.

Sometimes she would meet someone and they would be simply destructive. Almost as though, seeing something beautiful and independent, they needed to enslave or smash it to feel complete in themselves. Almost as though the sight of her had to be removed to prevent them making a comparison and finding themselves wanting. This could not be her problem, and these relationships failed.

Finally, our Princess decided that she was comfortable with her own company, that she did not need another human being to make her feel complete. She decided it was actually too difficult, too painful, to try to have a relationship with another person. This being decided, she was free to have friendships with all sorts of people without running the risk of having to become vulnerable to them. People who are your friends are much easier to walk away from, if they become destructive . It is much easier to speak with them clearly and openly, as they tend not to try to use emotional manipulation to make you behave in a way which will best suit their needs. She was finally at peace with her plans. She would not seek a significant other, rather appreciate and love those friends she felt close to, and remain independent, aloof and free.

We might take a step back here, and see our Princess as a feral cat. Needing no one else to maintain her basic needs and mixing only with those she actually liked, and whom she felt liked her simply for her nature and personality. She may not have experienced the highs of deep bonding and sharing, but, by the gods, neither did she risk the lows of isolation, guilt, failure and starting again, as yet another relationship (home/life/stability) fell apart.

Life, as she will, took her own turns and presented her own interesting side routes and culs-de-sac. Our Princess spent time walking interesting paths and staying a while here and there as the whim took her. She was content. She was peaceful.

Then, one day, she and a friend had a great idea. Why didn't they meet? They had spent some time communicating: laughing at the same jokes; chatting about things which interested both of them; mixing in a similar circle; enjoying each other's company. Why not get together and spend a weekend laughing and chatting? It was a wonderful idea.

It was life changing.

I don't even need to tell you the end of this tale, do I? Our Princess realised, almost immediately she and her friend met that he was the one. Not a Prince, or even a Knight. Neither was he a blackguard or a pretender. This, she realised, was her Duke. Her War Lord. This man was the one who was content to let her be herself (after all, he reasoned, isn't that who he fell in love with?). He was the man who would allow her to defend herself unless she asked him to help, in which case no one would stand against his Lady. This was the man who had fallen for her personality, humour, intelligence and wit. This man had not taken in the packaging and thought she would make a nice ornament. He had absorbed the essence which was her and found it complimentary to his own. This was a man who loved her for simply being her, and for no other reason.

So, one day very soon after, our Duke took his Princess home with him. Racing between counties, overnight, on a 800 mile round trip, he scooped up his love and took her home. And there she has stayed ever since.

And from all this she has learned several very important facts.

No one can love someone who does not love themselves. If you are not complete in yourself you cannot expect to be made complete by another person.

Love does exist, but it is like a butterfly. You will only find it by ignoring it. It loathes the stench of desperation. Heavy boots and a large hammer do not make butterfly collecting easier.

Life can be a Fairy Tale, but all Fairy Tales are cautionary tales. Fairy Tales are not Disney, they are Grimm.

Life is surprising and will defeat all planning, sensible and level-headed or not. Do not try to over-simplify life.

Oh. Sorry......................




'Happily ever after'!