the unbreakable lotus in me

book is planned just not written

this gloomy wednesday marks the end of my time off work but, hands held high, i'm actually excited to go back tomorrow. three busy days is enough for me and i just want to give everyone in nursery a cuddle now. today i decided not to stress too much about replying to emails or writing my novel (seriously, so far behind now. this thing will never get written) and opted for an impromptu tattoo because what's better than having your skin scarred and then slapped by 1 year olds 24 hours later?

"what the fuck are you on about?"

fresh! (feat. miley face)

my bosses (HELLO if you're reading xo) told me not to get any more tattoos but, seeing as there was no reason behind this and the uniform policy mentions tattoos in no way, shape or form, i've done it again. classic mitchy. it's inoffensive, it's not blatant, it's meaningful and, actually, it's quite pretty if i do say so myself. lotuses are tender but hardy flowers which can survive in extreme conditions: sometimes i feel a bit like one of those. sorry, should've done an emo hour warning. there's a line through the middle with lots of rings dotted about. to me, that's like the planets aligning - all of the components of my life coming together to form something beautiful and, more importantly,
 something that i am proud of. i'm not there yet but i'm working towards it. aren't we all?

i still don't understand how having tattoos and piercings makes you unprofessional but different strokes for different blokes i guess. i haven't gone against my boss' advice out of spite, i'm not that childish. i am quite proud to be a weirdo and, as i've said before, a bastion of change. if children grow up with the same warped sense of judgement regarding tattoos and piercings as their (grand)parents, the stigmas won't be changing any time soon. the kids love me and they sure as shit love my tattoos too. they play with them, they quiz me about them, they ask for their own. it's a lovely little lesson every time they notice a new one. i enjoy my job and i'm good at it: why does it matter if i look a bit different to everyone else? 

so here's to proving that tattooed, pierced, hairy men make just as good nursery practitioners as the 98% of women in the job. stick that in your pipe and smoke it, society. i'm the most polite middle finger that you'll ever come across.

goodness me, that got intense. "what the fuck is that song?" quickly QUICKLY

remember betty who? how could you forget her? well, okay she's a bit forgettable. what she lacks in originality she makes up for in sheer queer factor. her album sounds gayer than kylie mud wrestling rylan in a sauna. but it's good. equal parts shit cheesy feel good pop and genuinely thoughtful, well produced pop. "just like me" opens the album and it's a corker. understated, sort of tasteful, 80s enough to make even the 30 year olds feel nostalgic and features the lyric "you can look into my eyes and see if you've got a broken heart then you're just like me" OH BETTY you poor soul xo