First learn the meaning of what you say, and then speak.

I am having issues of the communication kind again at the moment.

We live in an exceedingly communicative world, be it facebook, blogging, BlackBerry, iPhone, SMS, email and the seemingly endless options we seem to have to converse and communicate on many levels.

I find myself in a situation where I have caused great offense to somebody because it took me a little under two hours to respond to a BlackBerry Messenger message (despite the fact that it had taken that person over an hour to respond to my original message, which I was and am not offended by).

I would like to know what the rules are regarding all these new forms of communication?  How does one avoid causing offense by not responding - and who decides what is a reasonable time to respond to the latest comment on a facebook status, or the BBM stating that the other half is leaving work, or an SMS that is actually just the latest sick joke regarding some celebrity or other?!

Whatever happened to just calling?

Are we embracing modern technology or are we really imprisoning ourselves in a web of GPS, Instant Messaging and Social Networking?

As I walk through the shadow of the valley...

... I shall fear no evil.

These immortal words that everybody knows, no matter what their faith is - be it Abrahamic, Ayurvedic or otherwise, these word are timeless and yet I question their very meaning.  I sometimes get afraid, very afraid.

I have been feeling a lot of fear this week - though not in a state of mind.  as in I have not been afriad of some act or danger etc.  I have been feeling intense reverance and awe towards my personal belief system.

As I quite often do, this has made me think about faith.  I have read of all sorts of things about what I would perceive as being an atrocity that the perpatrators have told they were given instruction by their own god to carry out.  I think we all know that fear can extinguish the brightest of lights, like a star in the galaxy that implodes and turns itself into a black hole - a hole in which there is an endless nothing.

This is a particularly holy time of the year in the Hindu calendar.  It is widely known that I have adopted a large part of this religion in so far as is possible with my limited knowledge and yet external influences have taken me away from certian practices this week.

I have been trying to keep myself positive for my team, clients, candidates, friends, fellow gym goers, etc.  all of this with an overwhelming feeling of... well....  fear.  Fear of what I do not know, retirbution for not humbling myself this week.

This morning whilst on the train to Manchester I nodded off, and I woke up with four words running around in my head: "Love.  Fate.  Hope.  Destiny"  all immaterial and unmanageable things, this just made me feel even more overwhelmed.

I am normally a very positive person with a good perspective on things...  but as I type another quote has entered my mind: “An ounce of practice is worth more than tons of preaching.”

I am afraid.

Can we get what we're fighting for?

I recently read that in the known history of the world...  the WHOLE history...  there have only been 29 years in which there has been no documented wars or fighting.  29 years in the known history of the world.  Even the holy books that a lot of people live their lives by are built upon a foundation of fighting...  Is it any wonder everyone is so angry.

In Hinduism the Mahabarata is one of the two great epics, in which The Book of Effort tells us the story of the battle between brothers.  In the Qur'an 2:191 we are given permission to slay where there is opression, Christianity the bible records many wars and in fact the story of Jesus' rise and fall in itself is a war.  This has gotten me to thinking...

In the modern world, we have television, the internet, numerous daytime shat shows helping us to decide 'what is worth fighting for'.  I mean, at this moment in time we've even got Cheryl Cole reminding us that 'love' is worth fighting for.

In our careers we widely acknowledge that being good at what we do and going that extra mile wherever possible will get us to where we want to be...  we dont 'fight' with our bosses or the coporate giants, we excel at what we do, work on our weaknesses and therefore our career moves steadfastly onwards.  In personal lives we seem to want to 'fight' for everything and not bother about the hard work.

Relatonships are hard work on a massive scale, for example, the relationship between The Americas and The Middle East, relationships are also hard work on a smaller scale, for example, my boyfriend and I.  I wont disclose his name on here so we'll just refer to him as 'him' for now... We have never been in a position where we have 'fought' for one anothers attentions, oh don't get me wrong we dont by any means have a 'perfect' relationship (whatever one of those is) but even our break up for a short while a year ago was relatively controlled with a few nasty words being scattered like the landmines in the middle east, ready to spontaneously explode with no warning with complete indiscrimination as to what they destroyed...

So, my wondering is this... how do we ever decide what is worth fighting for and how do we decide if it's even worth the fight in the first place?

Nuts

Okay so its been some time since I've written for you guys... So I'm on the lovely Bakerloo Line travelling southbound from the beautiful few hours I have spent on a squirrel hunt with a friend of mine in Regents Park... I got to wondering about the things we look for in life...

Most of the people I know are constantly on a quest for something, be it the perfect show, the hair product that will make your hair stand up all night but wont give you spots for the next week (because you gone to sleep pissed and rolled around on your pillow in a stupor all night) or that certain someone who is supposed to be 'the other half of us'...

My friend doesn't understand my love for these rats in cuter outfits. I mean, don't get me wrong, he can see the potential they have for making a pretty scarf but nothing beyond that...

"Squirrel!" I holler while my friend is mid-sentence about his sexual escapades in Regents Park.
"I love how you keep screaming like a 2 year old whenever you see a squirrel". He says with a snigger.
Its true, I am hollering In my pseudo american accent whenever I see one, its little wonder the damn things won't come near me...

We did come across one friendly little creature, when we least expected it... I delve within my Gaultier messenger bag and pull out some of the nuts I have brought with me... The little guy eagerly looks and me, weighs me up for a second, decides he trusts me and clambers up my leg to take the nuts from my hand...

Its often said that we get what we want when we don't really know that we want it, and especially when we don't know its coming... is it fate or is it really a simple case of getting your nuts out in the park?
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The cold ice queen that is the City of London

I often refer to London as a cold, harsh woman... it may seem strange to personify such a large thing as a city but I believe she really does have incredible power.

I found myself a proud resident of this capital city at incredibly short notice...

Anyway, I resented the move here for quite some time... Had been segregated from my friends, my partner and my family. I found myself akin to a lion cub, I thought I was so big and strong but yet had to literally 'go it alone' and survive.

Anyway, a lot of time has passed now and after an especially good weekend this weekend of just experiencing the delight of wandering around Hyde Park I have come to see my quasi home in a very different light.

Sitting in the Serpentine Cafe enjoying a nice cup of tea with my feet on my special somebody's lap whilst reading snippets of James and The Giant Peach (my all time favourite book) I got to thinking about London and life... - had hated london for over 18 months and that one day of altered perspective has made me rethink that....

Why do we always forget the small things in life are the things that have such profound effect on us? I know now that one cup of tea with my feet up was a better feeling that I have had since December 31st 2008 (a whole other story) and I have London to thank for that...

I no longer think that London is a cruel Ice Queen I just think that, like most of her residents, she is grossly misunderstood....
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Patsy wants, Patsy gets... But will Patsy really ever 'have'....?

I'm standing on the Northern Line on my way to the office thinking about a conversation that I was having with my dear friend last night...

I'd received a text message, 'here's a topic for the next blog - rules of attraction, am I attracted to skinny 18 year olds because I want to be one and are you attracted to asians because you wanna be one'. now this is not the first time this topic has arisen but I had a little bit of an epiphany and decided to call my old chum for a little chat about this one!

"Pats, I don't wanna be one of them at all!". I immediately stated, with not even so much as a hello.
"Yeah you do Pats and you know it".
"No, seriously, I really really don't", I come back whilst walking down Stockwell High Street wearing T shirt and Flip Flops looking like Malibu Barbie in deep, dark South London, "I'm seeing where you're going with that thinking but I don't think you're right".

I don't normally like to get tied down to the 'type' conversation. I don't really believe that we have types at all. I will, however, admit that before I got with my other half (of just under 3 years now) a pattern was developing.

"Pats, you like them tight, blonde 18 year olds, for exactly the same reason I like the asians".
"What's that then Pats?" I could hear him pottering about in his restaurant up in Liverpool as I'm trotting about South London.
"We like them because deep down we know we'll never really have them, you know that 18 year olds will do exactly what it is you'd expect them to do and my asians, well, they have a shelf life before they get married, or then it will come to planning the next step for the relationship and the fact is there probably won't be one".
"Ahhh,". Came the response from the other end of the phone, "I'm with you on that one, we're like committed committment-phobes".

So this got me to thinking about 'types'. I've been out with White British, African American, British Asian and Pakistani people. Out of all of them the only one relationship that I ended was the White British - Every single other relationship ended because of some external circumstance...

In a life where we are so used to getting what we want because we work so hard to get it, is this one thing that me and my like minded, career driven best friend will never really have... Are our relationships just another challenge for us to succeed or are we just pathologically scared?

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What's in a faith?

Okay, so I understand that maybe I'm a little bit of a strange one... There's a certain somebody in my life that calls me a "Hindu wannabe". I fell into the Hindu faith mainly for three reasons... Partially because of the afore mentioned 'certain someone', the beauty and elegance of the faith and finally because of the intense belief that the life I had been leading would come back to me... If one thing has been proven to me over time, it is that whatever energy you put out there you will definitely get back at some point!.

Now, what I do with my beliefs I do alone, in private and without ceremony... Aside from certain idols in my house and at my office one would almost certainly not be aware...

I have spend a lot of time in the last two weeks, with some Muslim friends, I have broken fasts, seen salaat and intense devotion overall and this has set me to thinking about families... Those we are born into and those that we choose and of course, not forgetting those that choose us.

Our life relationships are almost like a patch work quilt, a myriad of complex and sometimes disparate blocks... Some stitching may be rough and perfunctory, there holding the first blocks together as a means to getting the quilt started and other stitching may be smooth and neat, and getting neater with each addition as the mistakes made on the previous patch are learned from.

With this in mind... How possible is it to 'remove' a patch... No matter what happens before and after each event in our life we can't deny that event in our lives, and I don't believe we should even attempt to.

It has been said that the flaws in two things joined together makes the sum of its parts stronger... Is this the same within our lives as well as within ourselves?
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Mirror mirror on the wall...

As I sit here waiting for my friend to arrive to commence preparations for our night out tonight... I'm reminiscing on how the 'getting ready' routine has changed over the years...

It used to be a simple case of Sunbed + All Saints T Shirt + visit to the dealer of the moment = night out ready!

"I'm gonna do cardio for stress relief" my friend BBM's me this morning
"Be careful with Cardio", I respond "I'm only gonna do a little bit, I need to pump my chest and flatten my tummy."

This one night out actually took an entire day of preparation, not including the gym time that we put in by default anyway... I remember only one year ago I wore sweat pants to University Challenge (quite possibly the biggest event on the circuit calendar). So what has changed!? Is it the cruel sand passage of time?
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Do you got game?

"Pats, are you gonna listen though?"  I already know the answer as I'm saying it through the 'phone.

Of course I'm speaking to Phil again, the same Phil that has just severed ties with his other half in a messy, messy divorce that includes an apartment along with the obvious bathroom, DVD, and kitchen collections - and then there's the bloody cat to think about...

"Yeah Pats, please intervene, I will listen!"  He exclaims in our usual deadpan style of communication.  I know he wont listen, and I know I'll only partially intervene with my usual It'll never work line - and the reason for this is simple - I know the game.

Now it's usually unthinkable to admit that 'The Game' exists but I think it's time we blow this one wide open to save Phil's bastard kitten and any future bastard kittens that will become the product of a broken home. 

"So what's gonna happen with the cat?"

"Well I've told him that he can have him if he wants him but if not I'm happy to take it."

See a few months before, I'd noticed a facebook status appear on the boyfriends page saying he was looking for a name for the damn thing (ironically, my choice of Sasha was taken up, ironically named after Sasha Fierce - Beyonce's alter ego!)  now I can say now that I saw where this was going straight away...

"A cat?"

"Yeah, we just got one."  that's it, no excitement or enthusiasm.  None.

Now i'm known to be quite cynical, but in this case I think I'm on the ball.  see the boyfriend is playing the 'entrapment' game and my dear old best friend is playing the 'getting' game.  My Patsy loves cats, and loves the ideal of domesticity that they emobody within the house - so the idea of having the beautiful 2 bed, 2 bath apartment with the boyfriend and the kitten to complete the picture is appealing to both my friend and the boyfriend - but for very different reasons.

Lets break it down, my friend is (perhaps not consciously) playing the 'getting game' - he's going for the ideal of what one should 'typically' have at a certain age...  and the boyfriend is going for it all because it makes him feel secure, because the tenancy agreement, the cat, the responsibilities are all ties to the relationship, like a teenage girl that gets pregnant to keep a man around.

"We're special," another phone call this time, and Phil is revealing his lastest nugget of enlightenment to me, "We're here to share our personalities and get out there - it's rude not to!"

Now, it's important to note that The Game doesn't just relate to the boyfriend, Both Phil and I have worked our way to the tops of our respective careers over the last two years, each landing, excelling and moving on from three positions within an 18 month period where most people would take give to ten years of personal development and objective setting. 

So while Phil navigates his messy divorce and deals with the division of the assets - I'm wondering, aside from the Kitten.... who else are our games affecting, and does anyone ever really get what they want?

Is it good to talk?

So I find myself in a little bit of a situation at the moment that is a little alien to me... Despite having an exceedingly verbal and profoundly articulate life I found myself unable to speak about something.

I wont go into detail about the subject matter, but needless to say it was somewhat personal.

There are things in life that we find so easy to discuss; for example, other people's lives (that often don't concern us in any way), issues at work, what's hot and what's not on TV, The X Factor or what not... However, the mechanics of our own personal relations remain taboo in this somewhat excessively communicative world in which we now live.

Should we feel bad about telling our friend that we think they're getting a little chubby, or that their latest choice in haircut is an absolute disaster or that their personal hygiene is becoming a little questionable of late... My own personal belief is that, no, we certainly should not but the fact remains that these conversations are difficult nonetheless - and often its easier to paper over it and avoid it all together

Despite all of this knowledge I would never apply this theory in my work life because I know that it would damage my professional relationships and would, therefore, have a detrimental effect on my well-being. I don't, however, factor this into my personal relationships because there is so much emotional baggage.

My conundrum is this... Are there some things that one really should put into a little box and lock away into that special corner of the mind or should we spill and deal with the fallout!?

Love Kills Slowly

It was the theme of the holiday...

My best friend and I were going on holiday the next day, we spotted this Ed Hardy bag that my best friends boyfriend had got whilst out shopping with this incredibly busy 'Love Kills Slowly' logo on and we both immediately jumped on board...

WAIT! I should fill you in a lil' more on the situation at hand!

Phil is my best friend in the whole, wide world. We share a connection that just doesn't exist between very many gay men. Like lobsters we're navigating the cruel and somewhat terrifying deep waters of gay life - claw in claw hanging on for dear life!

"Pats, this bag is really understated!" I declare whilst hooking into the hollow of my arm in the style of a liverpool socialite.

Patsy is what we call one another... it had started the previous year in Paris - but that's a whole other story... lets stick to this little one for now!

"Pats!" Phil responded, whilst laid out on the bed like a hollywood diva "that logo is my next tattoo". I should probably say that this whole dialogue is taking place whilst Phils boyfriend is on the floor in the same room packing Phils case for our 'mates holiday' on which he was not invited and has been expressly told he is, in fact, forbidden from attending!

This continued for some time, with Phil barking little instructions about wanting this cream or that cream to his boyfriend who is completely oblivious to the fact that he is being completely mugged off... Phil can be such a diva sometimes...

Since the holiday, Phil has ended things with said boyfriend (which will no doubt lead to many more blogs on here) but it really got me to thinking.... we are conditioned to believe that to have another person in our lives in an intimate way somehow 'completes' us. My question is does love complete us, or, does it in fact kill us slowly?