It’s a decision made because currently this is a self-indulgent hobby site that serves no real purpose. Initially I bought the domain and hosting because I wanted to further my knowledge of web design and this was to be my playground. Well it served its purpose admirably in that regard but now I know enough about the web that I’d be best served playing on the development environment I have set up offline; having a blog on my own domain is nice but unnecessary, I am NOT a ‘brand’ or business and so until that becomes the case I’m better off reverting to an interface that requires no financial outlay. ..and on the plus side it also means I can have a truly private journal again.

Why is a private journal such a plus..? Well, I used to write as a means of blowing off steam, it was cathartic and helped me to cope with stress and worry as well as to sort out in my own mind the things that were truly bothering me – as soon as I put all of those thoughts on the web and allowed people access to it I had to censor what I write, the more I learned about the web the more I censored – I even deleted several posts in an effort to ‘spin’ my ‘image’ (stupid as I think the wayback machine has everything cached but heyho, you can have a looksee if you really want to..)

Yes, I know I could create a private journal and keep the public one but that’s hassle, why not just have one journal and use category tags to separate the content?  That way if I do upload my blatherings in the future I can just remove the private stuff and have all my education, social media, web and jewellery musings available for those of you inclined to read it.

So.. rosevibe.me.uk has served me well but it’s time to let it go, I shall be backing everything up and getting things shipshape as i’m 90% decided to do this even if one or both of us do gain employment before the June deadline: If I do create a website for myself in future it will be under a different domain using my own name and not the username I’ve had for so many years (probably).

There was a slight twinge at the thought of giving up the google juice I’ve garnered through this blog but a search on 3 different search engines shows that “vicky stringer” will likely still have me in the top three if not the coveted top spot in the UK listings (and in one case global listings) with my linkedin and twitter profiles – although that may also change once the links to this blog are removed; but even that’s not a bad thing.

As I said before I’m not a brand or a business, I’m just an individual with nothing to sell; let the coveted top spot go to someone who really wants and needs it and let me fade into some of the less checked results until such time as I choose to do something more productive with my ‘skills’.

Saving money and using resources responsibly is the name of the game for 2012 as far as I’m concerned; this is my first step. I’m getting my virtual house in order and downsizing; what are you doing..?

1. graduate with a 1st class honours in Bsc web based systems
2. take Bella to a centerparcs
3. create my own font (or 2)
4. create a wordpress theme
5. renew my passport
6. present at another conference (probably BLU if i get my abstract in on time)
7. do at least 5 of the beading tutorials I have saved to disc
8. attend a beading workshop
9. attend a wire working class
10. attend a glasswork class
11. try yoga or tai-chi
12. start building my chronic calendar and symptom tracker app
13. start consolidating all of my websites and blogs
14. move house
15. create a video documenting Bellas first 3 years
16. Go to a spa with stef.

What are your plans (or hopes) for this year? do tell..

The meme was one of those ‘list x tracks from your mp3 player’ and because the shuffle function threw up a lot of tracks I don’t listen to very often; mostly from the heavier rock and metal genres, I had quite a few OMG moments; these were the soundtrack of my time in Manchester pre-illness.

I mostly lived in Jillys rock world from the first weekend I ventured out after moving there. The door staff became friends and looked out for me both in the club and out of it (Mo came along on my CBT test and I attended his wedding reception, at one point or another they all picked me and my broken down shitty TZR 125 up from some place or another and I’d house sit every year for the Isle of man contingent when they made the TT pilgrimage)

I started out studying drama at the Abraham moss college where I had my finest theatrical hour as Rosie in ‘My Mother Said I never Should‘, a 4 person 3 hour play directed by a wonderful woman whose name sadly escapes me now.

I was forever being asked to record this that and the other for random people (mostly ‘producers’ using the offer as a pick up line) because the theatre rooms were located at the other side of the recording studios – one time I actually had someone follow us into the theatre demanding to know who had been singing outside the room and while I started apologising they demanded my number for a forthcoming project – much to the amusement of my fellow loveys.

So I guess it’s no shock that I ended up in music (I actually hated the theatre, the people were 90% self-centred/ insecure bitches, 7% couldn’t care less techies and 3% talented actors – loved the acting; hated the people)

From some great collaborations including a local radio promo piece recorded with a talented guitarist called Dave for the MANCAT college I attended (then had to leave when ‘New deal’ came out and my course didn’t meet the criteria for financial aid) to my shining moments of event management..

Perhaps the best work I ever did and I possibly missed my calling there; I first organised a music night for my then boyfriends band, I’d pre-sold a ton of tickets when the head liners pulled out the day before..

After a brief panic I managed to pull some strings (ie begged people I knew) and got the then flavour of the year band ‘Kill II This’ in their place – I was lucky they were willing to do it as a warm up for the already advertised solo gig 2 days later. It was a very successful night and despite spending a fortune on the rider managed to not only break even but make a small profit – which for a first promo event with next to no advertising was apparently unheard of according to Shawn and Russell (the events and bar managers at Manchester Uni S.U)

My second event was even more satisfying – 4 days with 27 bands at the band on the wall; Not sure how I got roped into this..

I was a 1st year popular music student at Salford Uni (another course I was forced to leave for financial reasons) and I was approached by one of the 3rd years for help organising the music performance exams, I had to sort out running lists and stage manage the whole thing – from getting the instruments and equipment to the venue to getting the people on and off stage on time.

It was a roaring success – so much so that I was asked to do the same again at the local pub a few weeks later by 2 of the bands when they were putting on an event.. I kinda miss all that, not just performing but organising things, it was a buzz.

I had a lot of contacts back then because I was part of the student scene both AS a student but also as a bouncer, bar staff and ‘casual crew’ so my work was also my social life and it was a blast.

I was asked to join several bands (even had a 3 fist review for one of my student bands in Kerrang! I still have it, torn out and kept in a photo album; the reviewer LOVED me *grin*) and as I mentioned on facebook; Mark of ‘Kill II This’ fame once asked me to join that very band as a bass player when someone told him I was learning to play bass – sadly I declined but part of me has always wondered what might have been had I accepted..

I passed up several music opportunities; to go on tours as a backstage gofer, to record dance tracks for export (I was an idiot back then and didn’t want to ‘sell out’) and to work abroad as part of a duo.

All this was on top of my day jobs which were generally of the shop assistant/ customer service variety. Until I got a job at the Hard Rock Casino then my life went nuts because those people party HARD. Casino folk are either working, sleeping or partying and they do each of those at weird hours because they do not live the life normal folk know.

It was during that time I got ‘in’ with the car crowd – the guys who do the illegal drag racing up and down dual carriageways and ‘chip’ their cars and always know someone who can get you a part.. I had many a trip to wales at 4am with the lads, night driving is a pleasure! ..So I guess it’s doubly weird that I STILL don’t have a license.

I also had an abortive attempt at a writing collaboration with a guy in Canada – his backers paid for me to fly over there for a weekend after about 3 months of online talks and we spent a night holed up in a room at the holiday inn discussing his (dreadful) screenplay, he’d previously made a film about the treatment of slaves and had sent me a video of it, he wanted to give religion the same treatment.. but upon my return a story (maybe true, maybe not) about his wife becoming terminally ill killed that project and communication dwindled – maybe I should have been less honest with my criticism?

I’ve met so many famous people in the touring music industry that the names have all rolled into a jumble in my mind, a few stand out but generally not for good reasons and I doubt very many of them would remember me any better – I was just the ‘little girl doing back door security’ (as Pantera guitarist ‘Dimebag’ Darrell dubbed me) but I’m still gutted that Bruce Dickinson wouldn’t let me have his flight jacket because that was a cool jacket and most definitely would have been in my size..

I do remember how nice Cass of Skunk Anansie was the night I got talked into giving up seeing the show to work it by my panicked boss – was not best pleased as the tickets had been a birthday present; I’m not a fangrrl and I have zero interest in meeting the artists of work I admire, I just like to watch and listen from a distance (though my one exception to that would be Sandra Bullock; I think she’d be fun to hang out with) He made a point of sitting and chatting to me at the back door and got the side of stage lad to swap with me at one point so I could see at least some of the show.

..Nice guy, great performer; so glad they’re going to be touring again because THIS time I’m getting a ticket and going to see ‘em – if it kills me!

Its strange the way you think you know someone -
but then you barely know them at all,
We shared so much we knew each other well
…but that was all so long ago.

we grew up and then we grew apart
I should’ve kept much more in touch!
There’s surely something more I could’ve done
I guess I didnt care enough…

I didnt know you were in hospital -
I havent seen you now for years.
I dont want to see you like this now,
a wooden cask obscured by tears.

Tamsin Luke was my best friend in school; juniors and seniors – she liked to spell her name Tamsyn even though that isn’t how it went on her birth certificate; kids are funny like that.

I ran away from home when I was about 9 or so, I had just had a fight with my brother (another one) and mum had sent us both to bed; grounded.

I was indignant because HE started it, and it meant I couldn’t watch the film we’d been promised that was on TV… some science fiction thing (even then I liked that kind of stuff)
After sulking in my room and feeling much abused and hard done by I decided I’d had enough – a neighbour, Dianne, had come round to visit mum and I could hear them talking and laughing.

I put my trainers on (the pink ones with the velcro fastening) and stood on my bed looking out of my bedroom window, Ricky McCormick who was my age and lived dead opposite had told me about his cousins jumping out of their window when they’d been grounded, I decided I could do it too. I managed to lower myself onto the porch.. The whole time I was glancing around nervously expecting to be seen and grassed on, but for once the road was clear – it was an incredibly sunny day – the kind you hear about now but think of as a figment of your imagination (in manchester anyhow) and suddenly the drop looked too far, I tried to climb back up into my room but couldn’t.

I was stuck.

All I could think of was the trouble I’d be in if I was found like this, so steeling myself, I jumped, trying to aim for the grass and hoping the curtains were still closed in the front room to shield the TV from the sun, my luck on that front held, was not so good on the other though – I landed awkwardly and cried out in pain then curled in a ball hoping no-one had seen or heard me..

I then limped across the main road (forbidden territory) to my best friends house.

After lying convincingly to Maureen (Tamsyns mum) that my mum had walked me just up to the bollards separating her estate from the main road (you could just see their drive from there) Tamsyn and I went into the den to watch the film my brother had stopped me from seeing (at least that’s how my mind saw it) afterwards we went out to our secret hidey and I told Tam everything and said I was never going back – we made a plan, I was going to stay for tea then when everyone had gone to bed, I’d be let into the house by Tam and she’d sneak me into their loft – it was a converted one that we had spent many an afternoon playing games and talking about nothing in – as well as reading the books we sneaked from her older brothers room (my older cousin, Lorraine, was in the same year as him and when she babysat for us we’d tease her unmercifully claiming she fancied him…)

About 2 hours later I was starting to feel guilty and decided I wanted to go home and try to sneak back into the house before mum noticed I’d gone.

We crossed the road again – I was still limping and in great pain when I saw Edna and Dianne (our next door neighbours) walking towards us, we hid behind a car and snuck around the back so they wouldn’t see us, sadly Edna caught sight of me and shouted, Tamsyn hid and Edna grabbed me and shook me all the while shouting that my “poor mother was worried sick and what did I think I’d been doing” etc. etc. etc.

By this point the whole neighbourhood knew I’d been found (it turned out mum had decided that we could watch the film after all, she’d gone to tell Richard who’d cried himself to sleep then when she came to get me, found my room empty and the window wide open, the entire neighbourhood had turned out to comb the area for me – no one thought I’d be brave enough to cross the busy main road) I remember being dragged up to my room being soundly beaten and put to bed.
I shouted through the door that she’d always hated me and buried my head under my pillows and then cried myself to sleep. I was taken to the Doctors the next day because my foot had swollen to about 3 times its natural size, I had a hairline fracture right the way across. It still bothers me now in cold weather.

For weeks after that I avoided Tamsyn – I still don’t know why, shame possibly – she finally cornered me and asked if I was upset with her for being caught, we made friends and did everything together again for a while.

Sadly we lost touch when we were at college – unforgivably through a boy.

She’d always fancied my first boyfriend and never tried to hide this from me – I always felt she liked him more than I did but it hurt that he used to call her a slag and all sorts – I have this habit of worshipping my closest friends and it was hard being in the middle..

Anyway – long story short, he and I split up, he asked her out. my mum took great offense to this and basically made it so uncomfortable for Tamsyn that she stopped coming round and I stopped going round to hers.

She went off the rails and left Daventry when they split up, a few years later I moved to Manchester.

I was living with my dad and attending college (performing arts) Mum called me up when I got home from a rehearsal… Dad had already warned me she’d rang 3 times previously so I was prepared to deal with her, (at the time I had many ‘issues’) what I wasn’t prepared for was the blunt “Vicky – Tamsyns dead” I got when I answered the phone. apparently all the blood drained from my face and I dropped the receiver as I sank to the floor, praying I hadn’t heard her correctly…

I managed to get myself together enough to pick the phone up again – Eileen (my step-mum) had jumped up to try and catch me as I fell and she was making all kinds of sympathetic noises while my mum explained that Tamsyn had come home after the new years eve drinking session and had felt ill so had taken paracetamol, she took some more when she got up because she hadn’t felt any better – then got rushed to hospital when she collapsed. apparently it was liver failure.

I went back to Daventry for the funeral – I think dad paid the fare for me, and I was just disgusted that my mum planned to accompany me there – In my irrational state of mind, I felt that Tamsyn and I had lost touch in the first place because of the way ‘mommy dearest’ had treated her.

Anyway, we get there – I’m wracked with grief just like everyone else, We stayed a bit back from the family and watched the coffin buried… as Maureen walked past she saw me and stopped to give me a big hug, we both started crying and she begged me to go back to the house for a private family wake. I said goodbye to my friends and joined everyone at the Luke house, only to discover I was literally the only non family member there.

Maureen took me upstairs to show me Tams room, on the wall by the bed, just underneath the hundred or so photographs she had pinned to the wall was a scrap of paper I’d completely forgotten about – in my handwriting was the date, the place, and the words
“this should be worth a fortune when I’m famous… for my bestest friend Tamsyn Luke”
and I’d even signed it… she wanted me to know that Tam did still think of me as a friend despite the whole Steve fiasco.

We had a cry and a laugh, reminisced about all kinds of things – the abortive running away from home for one… then we went back downstairs, where I was treated by everyone as though I were a member of the family and it dawned on me just how much of my childhood had been spent with them, I’d even gone on visits to the branch in Cannock – they all remembered me and we spent time reminding each other of various exploits… I didn’t want to go home.

In true Luke family tradition the wake became a party – much drunken singing – many tears but almost equal amounts of laughter… everything seemed changed when I got back to Manchester.

I hadn’t seen Tamsyn for the best part of 2 years, but I missed her – so badly, I still do now sometimes… it sounds stupid but I sometimes write her letters and I talk to her, like we used to – I especially missed her when I split up with Ian; he was a little like Steve; only in looks but that was enough to remind me of her and the things we missed out on sharing.

This is a kind of re-post as I’ve preciously mentioned Tamsyn and shared that poem but this is the full story as I remember it; warts and all.

Still miss you Tam.

“She greets us as we enter the world; she is with us when we leave it. She is never more than a second away from us, as close as our own heartbeat; but when she does not stand directly before us, we cannot recall her face.
When she calls, loud and clear, we drop whatever we are doing and attend to her needs alone. At the touch of her hand we forget work, friends and lovers. She is the mistress of the universe. She is pain”

I first read Trader’s World by Charles Sheffield when I was about 14 or 15 and for some reason I memorised this passage so well that nearly 20 years later I still recall it.
..I guess a psychiatrist would have a field day with that revelation.

But isn’t it strange the way our memories work? How a smell, sound or an image can trigger them. The thing I find most strange is why are the unpleasant memories so much easier to trigger than the happy/ fun ones?

This is something that’s been playing on my mind a lot recently because whenever I have an ME/CFS flare up/ relapse or whatever you want to call it, those unpleasant memories boil to the surface at the slightest provocation. If this were me writing as I would 4 or 5 years ago I’d probably describe some of those memories to you in quite some detail; but I’ve learned a lot in those 4 or 5 years about the internet and over sharing so those memories can stay in my head for now.

But it’s not only personal memories that we seem to have little control over, I have tried for years to learn musical theory – I own (and have read) at least 5 books on the subject, had several friends try and explain it to me and through the patience of one of those friends (who drilled me endlessly) learned it well enough to pass the entrance test to a music degree course. ..But within days of doing that test I was back to not understanding a note on the page.

Some things you don’t learn or remember without constant drilling on the subject; other things you soak up like a thirsty sponge, but either way it seems to be some kind of luck as to whether it sticks or not.

I memorised hundreds of things when I was at school, and later on at college – but of all those things; soliloquies, poems, songs, technical information, it never seems to be the useful stuff that I recall. Which is a real shame because if I could recall everything I’d ever read or made a concious effort to learn then would. I. ever. be a force to be reckoned with!

Song lyrics I have no trouble with (well, songs I learned pre-CFS that is) At one point I knew so many songs that my peers nicknamed me ‘jukebox’ and would test me by throwing song titles at me and have me sing a verse/ chorus for them – if someone was trying to think of a song they’d tell me a line and I’d sing it back to them so they could remember; that was my ‘special talent’ I guess.

My interest is the web but my passion is creating things; jewellery, lyrics, website designs and content – I generate ideas for things on a daily basis that I have to put aside through lack of time/ energy or materials until some unforeseen future date..

..my worst fear is that I’ll never have the time, energy or materials for that future date to arrive.

It’s no secret that I’ve struggled with this year, I had to defer all of semester A which has in turn forced me to defer Semester B until next year – my year tutor made the observation that I would have been better suited to part time study but it just seemed like the wrong path to take at the time.

I’m struggling with exams especially; having next to no short term memory is bad enough but then having to deal with the demands of motherhood and family life, seemingly never ending episodes of fatigue and illness on top while attempting to cram technical information into a mind that seems hell bent on it going in one ear to travel straight back out through the other..

I keep reading, making notes, re-reading and it’s like every time is the first time I take in the information. It’s not so bad doing coursework because I know where I need to look to find my answers, but a test of memory – especially a 3 hour long test of memory (or 4 hours  in my case as I get extra time due to the illness thing) trying to find the little hooks, the triggers that will allow me to pull those answers from thin air – that’s the trick really.

I have to remember the quality of light coming through the window during a lecture to hear Guys voice in my head explaining the property in question, I need to hear the clatter of the canteen to picture the page I was reading about the description of such and such an effect. I have to be able to picture step by step the process used in a program to explain my reasoning – sometimes you can’t do that without the program in front of you; which is why I hate closed book exams with a passion.

In the real world I have all of these props to hand to help me trigger the flash of inspiration/ the required memory, in a closed book exam I have only my mind; the seemingly inaccessible hard drive with the faulty connectors that get even more faulty as the stress levels rise.

..and trust me, they are constantly rising.