Soap for Jesus

Yesterday, I posted this on Buzz. OYANers, forgive me... *hangs head in shame* I just spent £4.18 on a bag of sweets.... No, seriously, it wasn't my fault. The price wasn't listed clearly, and by the time we got to the checkout, they were jumbled and we had to buy them...we were all in hysteria so it was good for a laugh...but this is my last bag of sweets for a long, long time. If ever. I'm irresponsible, airy headed and daft, but I'm rarely if ever irresponsible with my money - something God taught me in a family nearly always tight for money. So forgive me this once....I won't ever do it again...and yes they do taste good...and yes Dad keeps teasing me...and yes I'm sitting here chewing a jelly snake... *slinks away in humiliation* I promised photographs of the bag and the sweets... *coughs and wriggles away from the post button* I did want some sweeties...I haven't had some in years, only once since the sweet shop shut when I was eight/nine...*sniffle* T...

Yes, I'm eighteen. Yes, I'm nineteen in five short months, near enough four now. I'm writing this blog post for myself, so if you don't like me writing for me, switch your screen down right now. *cheerful grin* I love inventing my own fashions. No, I don't like walking around in skin tight leggings with boots that look as weird as did those old fashions when the toes were curled up to the knee. No, I don't like wearing thick makeup that completely obscures my face or having hair that hangs in my face. I strongly dislike tops that are extremely low cut and/or reach up to show the midriff. I'm sitting here right now in a tight sky blue (with white polka-dots) vest top with spaghetti straps given me today as a late Christmas present by my Auntie, with a mint green blouse thrown over the top for modesty's sake. My hair is pulled back off my forehead with metal combs elasticated together with bright blue beads; an ankle length sapphire skirt to complete. But ...

Christmas. A time of peace and joy and family and loving and giving. A time to remember the cause of the celebration - the Lord Jesus, the God of all, becoming smaller than the full stop at the end of this sentence. One of the things I love about Christmas is a childish anticipation that usually possesses me at the beginning of December, a gay* abandonment of spirit, excitement at the approach. Second thing I love most is when one goes out on Christmas Day, with a smile on one's face...people walking past beam back at you and the happy greeting of "Merry Christmas!" is exchanged. For me, that symbolises a little the line, "peace on earth, goodwill to all men." This year was one of the worst Christmases. We ran a high risk of not being able to get my brother home; my sister was living on our living room floor. Most of the days were spent trying to sort problems out and waiting hand and foot on Ayanna. Out of our usual stock of mince pies, rum truffles and marzipa...