Life Lessons - Desert Island Discs

Keith Richards, Hugh Bonneville, Lily Allen, Alex Crawford and Berry Gordy have been keeping me company lately. On long car journeys to visit clients or when I’m working from home. Mainly after a long day whilst I’m soaking in the bath, face mask on, eyes closed. 

45 minutes of music and conversation on the BBC iPlayer with people who really have something to say. Or perhaps it’s not that they have something to say, it’s just that they are worth listening to.

Desert Island Discs has been around forever, since 1942 to be exact but until recently I’d never paid attention. Now I find myself addicted. I need my fix at least twice weekly, more if I make the time. Time to listen. Time to quieten the noise of my brain and really focus on just one thing.

The conversations inspire me. They are full of answers to questions I didn't know were puzzling me. I have a lot of Eureka moments when I listen. My approach is to look at the names on the list and choose someone I’ve never heard of, or type a first name into the search box and see who appears. ’Alice’ brought me the joy of listening to Alice Walker talk about activism and writing The Colour Purple, a book that I love. 'John' uncovered John Timpson talking of the challenges of fostering children, being swindled in a family business and second chances. Noel Gallagher talks of a fast rise to fame, sibling rivalry and cleaning up his act for his missus. Architect Zaha Hadid is an interesting listen, awkward at times but incredibly frank and honest. Inga Beale, CEO of Lloyds Bank talks of building strong teams, when to walk away, and risk. Yinka Shonibare, Lemn Sissay and Ray Winstone moved me to tears.

There’s magic in these recordings.  I feel the need to share because they are full of wisdom, and experience and considered thought, compassion and honesty. If you've watched the news lately it feels like the world is drowning in a sea of hate, violence, financial ruin and political chaos. There's little mention of hope. Hope doesn't make the headlines. 

The problems we face as individuals, in personal relationships, in business and as families are nothing new. The back catalogue of desert island interviews is testament to that and also to the strengths of humanity. It fills me with hope.

Tune in, really listen and see what you discover. 

(Thanks to K and N for suggesting I give Desert Island Discs a second chance, initially the theme tune put me off. Sacrilege I know, it's a classic but well, I've still to appreciate it's melody.)

*Image by Roman Craft via Unsplash.

A Tribute to Life

Climbing the hill to the top where the grand Duke sits on his stone horse and looks out over this beautiful city the note caught my eye. A card lying on the ground, its curled corners waving at me in the lush green grass. I lifted it and turned it over to read ‘Lily Rose, you are forever in our thoughts and hearts. Always xxx’ and glanced up to see a bunch of flowers tied to the branch of a tree. I placed the card with the flowers and stepped away feeling sad, it was impossible to tell if the ink was stained by rain or a sea of tears. 

The park is awash with emotions, declarations of love, pride, heartache, affection. Benches with unusual engravings ‘In loving memory of Harry, a nosey git who loved to sit here and watch the world go by’ or on plaques under trees for ‘My One True Love’.

These public declarations are part of the joy of park life. My imagination goes into overdrive as I wonder who these people were. I sit on the benches and create fictitious and heroic stories of their lives. I think about Lily Rose and Harry's relationship with the person who chose the words for the plaque. I wonder in life if they knew how loved they were?

Some people don’t ever say the L word. There are whole generations of families and friends who never say 'I love you.'  Instead they buy presents, they cook favourite dinners, or if they’re Scottish it’s likely that they say goodbye with the words ‘take care’….. then stand in the rain on the doorstep waving until the visitors car disappears into the night.

Maybe for them the words aren't needed? Maybe the point is it’s a knowing thing. A feeling. A mutual understanding. It’s personal, it’s up to you if you keep your emotions deep inside or share them out loud, as long as the people that matter know how important they are to you. Are you confident they know?

It’s not all about love, sometimes the sentiment is closer to like or admire or respect. People who share our lives, who plant ideas in our heads, who encourage us to dare to be, who challenge our thinking, who inspire us or who simply make us laugh. How often do we actually tell them how much we value their time, contribution, words and support? 

Once someone has gone, departed this life, you can buy a bench, a plaque, a tree if it brings you comfort, if it helps you grieve. I understand that completely. But surely it’s worth opening your heart and telling people how much they mean to you when you can still see the smile on their face and hear the joy in their voice? Do it whilst you can still put your arms around them and squeeze tight.

Tribute acts can be good, but they’re a poor substitute for the real deal.

Comments welcome.

(Images from istock.)

Until Next Time

We’d agreed on drive-by goodbyes. The kind limited by parking restrictions where the passenger is left on the kerb with a case, a kiss and a heavy heart. Much less painful than the drawn out farewells in airport cafes or at security gates. It’s not really goodbye, it’s just ‘until next time’ ….whenever that may be…..but it hurts just the same. 

The aching in your heart that spreads to form a lump in your throat that ends in a waterfall of tears and an embrace so tight it’s hard to let go. It is so hard to let go.

Time is very precious. Invest yours wisely.

Spend it with the people you love, doing what makes you happy.

Please don’t wait because sometimes tomorrow doesn't come.

Difficult Conversations - Finding The Courage To Open Up

Whilst researching a work project I came across this TED Talk by Ash Beckham and I really wanted to share it because it is possibly the best talk I've ever seen. Ever. Ash talks about facing her fears and finding the courage to live the life she wants to live, not the life that she was expected to live. 

I'd never heard of Ash before but her message struck a chord with me and I think it applies to the majority of people I know. No-one likes to be vulnerable and at some point in life we've all worn a mask, hidden our true feelings, avoided saying what we really feel in order to fit in, to be accepted or do what was expected of us. 

There's a scene in the film 'Meet Joe Black' where Quince and Joe are having a conversation about love. Joe asks 'How do you know she loves you?' and Quince replies 'because she knows the worst thing about me, and it's okay.' In my experience the 'worst thing', the big secret, the thing you are most scared of sharing with others is much less scary when you've put it out there. Sometimes, it turns out to be the thing they love about you the most. It's not easy being brave but if you are 'stuck' living a life that makes you unhappy then there really is only one choice. 

You'll find @AshBeckham on twitter and if her talk helped you in some way then please do share it. You'll find more inspiring talks on a wide variety of subjects on TED. Some of my personal favourites are here. 

Lessons in Love

I've been in my element this last week watching a series of programmes on Channel 4 about people looking for love. A fly on the wall documentary, filmed in a restaurant where singletons meet potential suitors for the first time. Particular favourites were 62 year old glamour puss Lynda, whose party piece was doing the splits. She was widowed and searching for a new partner in crime. Then there was the confident 22 year old Londoner who confused himself with JayZ and tried to impress by rapping through most of dinner. A stark contrast to the guy who’s hands shook as he presented his date with a box of chocolates. Some had no clue how to impress; others were hitting it off and having a rare old time. All were open to opportunity and putting themselves forward to at least give it a go.

If you've been following this blog since the very beginning you’ll know that I once ran a dating agency and that I go weak at the knees for a bit of old fashioned romance. This could be the result of reading Rapunzel and Cinderella stories as a child, or my teenage years spent watching Dirty Dancing and longing for someone to say ‘Nobody puts Baby Annie in the corner’. Whatever the reason I just can’t help myself when it comes to affairs of the heart and it seems I'm not alone.

On the tube home the other day a guy was attempting to chat up a girl, and from her body language the attraction was mutual. The 50 something year old man seated beside me winked and said ‘I hope he gets her number.’ The whole carriage tuned in and we were all fighting the temptation to shout ‘Just Ask Her Out’!!!! Everyone loves a bit of romance.

I'm no relationship expert but I think there are lessons for us all to learn in love regardless of our situation. The singletons, the happily married, those who stay with a partner because they are scared of being alone, the ones who want to fix things but can’t find the words to make that happen, the lonely, the stubborn, the dreamers.

The lessons in love are there for all to see if you look closely enough. The parts of the stories I, we, choose to ignore are the blatantly obvious ‘in your face’ realities. I mean can you imagine how painful it must have been for poor Rapunzel’s head whilst that bloke climbed up her ponytail into the tower? Or how nervous Cinderella must have been prancing around in a pair of slippers that were made from glass? Ouch!

If Rapunzel had a voice she’d tell you straight that love can give you a headache but sometimes it's worth buying extra strength conditioner for your hair. Cinderella would show you the blisters she bears from dressing to impress her beau whilst telling you there’s nothing better than shiny new shoes.

Compromise isn't sexy but if you want love to last it seems to be part of the deal. In order to find love in the first place you've got to be willing to give it a go, so next time you're on the subway take your headphones off, put down that paper and have a good look around. You just never know .....

Too Old

More and more I find myself saying the words ‘I’m too old for that’ to which people reply with a list of reasons why I’m not old. I know I’m not old. If I get hit by a bus tomorrow and die people will say, ‘It’s terrible. She was only 37’. So let me explain what I mean and why at this stage in my life, being too old is something worth celebrating.

Yesterday, in a cold and rainy Glasgow, whilst queuing in a shop, I found myself looking at a young woman’s bottom. I prefer big strapping men with hairy chests so this was quite unusual, but it was hard to miss. As I placed my shopping basket on the floor my eyes were in line with her tiny shorts, where her peachy cheeks were on display for all to see. She looked great but I'm so happy that I'm too old to dress like that. My days of literally freezing my ass off in the name of fashion, and the self-consciousness that goes with it, are long gone.

I'm so happy that I'm too old to fancy boys in low slung, waddle walking jeans, with One Direction haircuts. My youth was spent fantasising about Michael Hutchence and Jim Morrison, and let’s not put the cat amongst the pigeons, with those double denim hunks from Bros. 

I'm so happy that I'm too old to go clubbing. My days of batting my eyelashes at the bouncer to try and jump the queue, paying a tenner to get in, and fighting for room on the dance floor are over. Nowadays I do my dancing at gigs, house parties and weddings.

I'm so happy that I'm too old to not be taken seriously because I'm ‘only young’!

Being too old is brilliant because it means that I have worn the mini-skirts, had the bad perm and found out the hard way that drinking Sambuca shots was not a clever idea. I've had my heart broken by a bad boy and know real love isn't like that. Being too old means I don't put up with any nonsense, I've stood up to the pushy people, and found my voice to say No when I was expected to say Yes. I've learned who my real friends are and stuck to them like glue. Some of these experiences were exciting adventures, others big mistakes or huge disappointments but I don't regret any of them. Most were great fun!

So perhaps I need to change my expression from ‘ I'm too old’ to ‘I don’t want to do that any more'.

Now, if you’ll excuse me I'm going out tonight and need to try on every outfit in my wardrobe, faff around for half an hour and then decide to wear the first thing I tried on. I might be too old for hot pants but some things never change …..

image via SomeECards.com

Love at First Sight

This is just beautiful. Take seven minutes out of your life to watch this little film, I guarantee it will make you smile and might even give you some hope!
(If only people's emotions were so obvious as to be sticking out of their chest!)

Vintage Lies and Tangled Webs

Oh what a tangled web we weave, when we practise to deceive.

Lying comes in different forms ranging from the little white lie, the porky pie, the fib or half-truth to the big brazen bare faced variety. Some roll off the tongue to spare people’s feelings whilst others are told to save ourselves….think Lance Armstrong, Tiger Woods, politicians.

In the scale of lying there is a gaping void between claiming the tasteless meal you just ate was delicious, and breaking the Oath made from the witness stand in a court room. It may be that you have been the one to tell the lie or the one on the receiving end. Either way dishonesty has a habit of rearing it's ugly head.

What is the correct term for a situation where an individual intentionally misleads you for their own advantage? They know something that you don’t, but they choose not to tell you in order to get what they want. Does that count as a lie or does it depend on your own moral compass? Does it matter if those involved are strangers, or friends, or lovers?

What about vintage lies? Does discovering now that someone lied to you years ago have little or more punch? Does it sting less when you no longer have the liar in your life? Do you confront the liar and ask them about it? Would you believe their explanation? Does it really matter now?

I've heard of skeletons in the closet but being slapped in the face with a vintage lie is a new experience that I encountered just recently. This vintage lie was told many moons ago by someone who I now rarely see but still have the highest respect and affection for. A person I considered to be a straight talker, one of the good guys, someone I could trust.

The truth was revealed by sheer chance, a random conversation about the past. I doubt the lie was told with malicious intent but it definitely hid the truth and in doing so was unfair and very selfish.

Am I angry about it? I probably should be, but no, I'm not angry.

Am I surprised? Yes, quite shocked in fact.

Am I disappointed? I'm absolutely gutted.

I've had plenty time to think about it and think about my feelings for this person. What did I learn from this experience? Well it's simple - Pedestals are for vases, not people. Everyone makes mistakes, some forgiveable, some not.

What would I like the liar to learn?.... That tangled webs are for spiders and when you really care for someone, they deserve the truth, even if it hurts.

Honesty is always the best policy.

Lost & Found at Harthill Services

Eighteen years ago I dreamed of travelling around France in a camper van, paying my way by working in bars or beach cafes. Instead, I was at college in Edinburgh studying to qualify for a job that I didn't want to do. Like most teenagers I was influenced by the good intentions of adults in my life, who wanted the best for me and who believed that the ‘best’ route was an education. I wasn't strong enough, or good enough at arguing, to follow my dreams so the camper van idea was parked, never to get out the driveway. 

At the start of each term we’d load up the car and drive from Ayr to Edinburgh to the Halls of Residence where I lived. We’d stop at Harthill Services where I’d listen to a pep talk intended to motivate me, to help me appreciate the opportunity I was being given, and to encourage me to knuckle down and just get on with it. The reality was.... I’d feel sick with dread. I lasted one year at college where on the whole I was desperately unhappy, hated not having a job and earning money, and despite making good friends I felt very isolated. I left and got a job as a hotel receptionist where I embraced the real world and educated myself at the school of life. I struggle to think of anything I learned in that year at college that helped me get on in life.

In my 20's I regularly found myself at Harthill Services filling up the car with petrol en route to Edinburgh. For years the place triggered unhappy memories and a feeling of sadness. It reminded me of a book I’d read in school, Death of A Salesman by Arthur Miller, because of all the grey haired men in grey suits, eating sandwiches in their cars on the way to their next meeting. The daily grind was taking it's toll as they all looked miserable. I never want to be grey haired and asking myself the question...what was I working for? Was it worth it? A steady income is one thing but surely life is for living? The important things in life can't be found in a bank account.

Last Sunday, driving back from Fife, where I had visited a good friend from those aforementioned college days, I found myself in the car park of Harthill services. A sanctuary from the snow and hail storm that had made driving too risky. The sinking feeling the place usually gives me had finally gone. 

I thought about my eighteen year old self and the person that I have become. I thought about the experiences, good, bad and ugly, that have shaped my life and the friends I have known since my teenage years. I thought of how far we have come and what we have achieved, and for the first time ever, Harthill Services made me smile. I was thinking of the future not the past.

This blog post has been kicking around in my head for a while. If you spend Monday morning longing for 5pm on Friday ask yourself this question; What would make me happy? Lots of people will answer with statements about having responsibilities and mortgages and bills to pay. I'm not suggesting for a second that you ditch your job and let your children go hungry. I'm just suggesting that there may be more options than A or B. You don't need to follow the crowd down the allocated path.

If you really want change then make it less scary by breaking it down into bite sized chunks. Take an evening class, cut down your hours to 4 days a week and with the 5^th day gain experience in something that you are really passionate about. Explore the options and if an opportunity arises, grab it with both hands. And if an opportunity doesn’t arise? Go out and find it.

I've always known my own mind, but at eighteen I struggled to find my feet. Now in my 30's I know that standing up for what you believe in, being brave enough to make your own path and following your own dreams, not the dreams of other people, is the best way to find happiness.

Comments welcome.

My word for 2012 is YES

I used to write New Years Resolutions on a piece of paper and stick them to the inside of the kitchen cupboard. The list would include taking up new things and giving up "bad" things. The theory was that when I opened the cupboard each morning for the coffee I would be reminded of the challenges I'd set myself. Rarely did I ever score anything off the list.

This year I'm going to simplify things. Instead of resolutions I am going to make a commitment to myself to say Yes more often. That's it, pure and simple. I'm going to say Yes and see where it leads me. Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES. 

There, how difficult can it be?

This commitment to saying Yes is in relation to my personal life, to being less of a commitment phobe and to keep taking chances. The last five years have been an emotional roller coaster ride, none of which I would change. The thing I have learned the most is that you only get one shot at life and I fully intend to live mine to the full. This sentiment is summed up in the three sentences below, words which I spotted from a train window, sprayed by a graffiti artist on a cold stone wall somewhere in London many moons ago.

If you don't go after what you want, you'll never have it.

If you don't ask, you'll never know.

If you don't step forward, you're always in the same place.

Wishing you health, wealth and happiness in 2012. What word will you choose?

Singing in the rain - Take That

On Wednesday night  my friend Caroline and I boarded a packed train, joined a massive snake of hyper 30 - 40something women, who had swapped their killer heels for wellies and plastic ponchos, and made our way over the railway bridge, past the houses and mounted police and skipped and giggled our way to Hampden Park. Take That and Robbie Williams were playing to a packed stadium and the atmosphere was electric.

We were giggling like school girls, hand in hand, racing down the stairs to the packed arena. The massive stage looming over us as the big clock counted down the seconds to the performance starting, 30, 29, 28 , 27 ……scrrreeeeeeeeeaaaaam! Hands in the air, jumping up and down, feeling so alive and invincible.

The rain was torrential; it rolled down our faces, clamped our once styled hair to our heads and soaked through the ponchos until our clothes were glued to our backs. We didn’t care, not one little bit, it felt gloriously liberating. All these women, mascara stained cheeks, looking like drowned rats yet deliriously happy, jumping about like besotted teenagers, screaming “I love you Gary!” and throwing their arms around each other , one big strong sisterhood. All girls together.

I could write a review of the performance, of the amazing stage show, the dancers, the way that the ever arrogant Robbie Williams whipped the crowd into a frenzy, the costumes, the new songs and the old classics but the performance was only part of the experience for me and I’m sure all of the other women there would agree. There was something magic in the air that night, you could almost have reached out and touched the excitement, the positivity, the sense of freedom.

Take That have still got "it", the difference is that whilst I love their music I no longer dream of marrying them or have their babies like I did when I was 12. The thrill of the gig at Hampden stems from tapping into that feeling of being a teenager, of first love, of the friendships you make that survive the test of time and of being free. It’s now two days since the gig and I still have the butterflies in my tummy, the songs are on repeat in my head and the grin is still spread across my face.

Caroline and I have been friends for a long, long time and I’m so glad we shared that experience, when we are old grannies with perms and matching court shoes we’ll have a rare old time reminiscing.

It’s definitely true that as a woman in my 30’s I’m having a much better time than I did as a teenager but if I could capture that feeling, that anticipation for life, for love, that belief that maybe, just maybe all the words in the songs would come true, then I would. I’d put it in a bottle and pour myself a big glass of anticipation every morning and bounce my way through life head first.

A little perspective

I was wearing jeans, two pairs of socks, big furry boots, two long sleeved tops, jumper, cardigan, scarf, winter coat, another scarf, hat and gloves and still I could feel the cold nipping at my bones.

It was 10.30pm and I was standing at Central Station looking at the departures board filling up with “cancelled” notifications and praying my train would turn up. All I could think of was a hot bath and getting home. I took a seat on the metal chairs on the platform and quickly stood back up. Baltic!

In the afternoon I’d been walking through the city centre and had passed a man begging outside Buchanan Street station. “Any spare change?” “Can you spare some change?” He was sitting on the ice cold street with his back resting against the wall, a paper cup in his bare hands. I didn’t have any change, like everyone else I kept walking, but something made me stop. He was so polite and it was freezing. All around us were shoppers laden with bags from Frasers, M&S, Molten Brown, Karen Millen….. yet no-one seemed to have any change to spare for this poor man.

I went to the cashline, then the cafe and bought him a cup of tea. Something warm. I went back and gave him some money and handed him the tea. He looked so grateful, but then I noticed the cup of soup he was holding in his frozen,blue hands.

By the time he’d had his soup the tea would be cold, useless. Perhaps as well as money he’d have enjoyed a conversation, someone to listen, and someone to talk to, to be treated like a human being and given a bit of dignity. I hadn't really paid attention, I had made assumptions.

Why didn’t I just give him the money so he could buy his own tea? Was I judging him in case he spent the money on booze or drugs? That would be his decision, and to be honest who could blame him if he did, I'd want to escape reality if it was me in his shoes.

Can you imagine, I mean really imagine what it feels like to sleep in a shop doorway in December? Apart from the brutal cold and the fear of assault, can you imagine how it feels to be so alone in the world that you have no-one to turn to? Can you imagine sitting on the pavement begging for money? How would it feel to be ignored, invisible? That man is someone's son, brother, father or husband. He didn't end up on the streets on purpose, he just got dealt a bad hand.

I’m no expert, I don’t have the answers but I thought about it a hell of a lot waiting on that train. An hour waiting in the cold for a train that arrived and took me home to my flat, with its central heating, hot bath and warm bed.

The headlines are full of travel news and snow updates. The buses are late, the football is cancelled ......a little perspective, please.


If, like me, you'd like to find answers to some of the questions I've asked in this blog then perhaps Shelter Scotland is a good place to start.

My little bit of heaven

This beach has been my friend for a long time. It is part of who I am. It is the one thing that I am going to miss when I move away because I can’t take it with me. Unlike my friends I can’t phone it up for a chat, meet it for a drink, or talk to it online.

I spend a lot of time here, come rain or shine I like to pad along the shore, listening to the waves beating against the wall, and watching the people who share this precious place.

Its home to the little yacht club and the adventurous souls who drag their boats into the cold water. Its home to the waggly tailed dogs and the children who build castles on the sands. The grannies who sit on the benches eating their 99’s and reminiscing about the past. Home to the flat with the balcony that I want when I’m old, and home to the big stone seals in the play park at the end.

I’ve shared it with giggling nieces and nephews as we raced to be first on the swings, with friends who needed a shoulder to cry on and with boyfriends who were playing the old romance card.

I’ve shared both heart breaking and happy times with this beach. It's helped me grieve for those I've lost and I've found a lot of answers here. Sometimes I don’t think at all, I just walk and breathe the air and listen to the sea. On a clear day you can see the sleeping soldier that is Arran or look down the coast to Troon or Turnberry.

It’s beautiful and it keeps me calm when life is a bit mad. It’s peaceful and it’s precious and I love it.

I’m moving to the Big City. I’m leaving the seaside for Glasgow after all these years. This move is a change of my own making, a change that I want and a change that means no more commuting, a better social life and better opportunities for work. I have a whole list of things I want to do and in my head my bags are already packed, I’m in the removal van and I’m half way up the motorway.

My flat has been painted an anonymous shade of magnolia, its personality removed so viewers can imagine living here. I stopped "living" here when I ran my business from my kitchen and my home became my office. I can't wait to have a home again, a real proper home to fill with my friends and laughter and happiness.

I am more than ready to move on, but I am so going to miss the beach and can’t help feeling a little sentimental at leaving it behind.

It's not the best photo, and I prefer it when the tide is in but I thought I'd share my little bit of heaven. You should try it out sometime, breathe deeply, walk slowly and you might just be touched by it's magic.

An Inquisitive Mind

Yesterday I had dinner at my friends house. We don’t bother with doorbells or knocking so I just walked straight in. Usually I'm welcomed by two very cute toddlers, a big dog, a tiny dog and a cat so huge it could be pass for a cougar.

Last night everyone was upstairs so I was greeted by an empty hallway. On the wall next to the door was a framed certificate awarded to my friend for having “An Inquisitive Mind”. Apparently it’s been there for ages but I'm always distracted by the noisy welcome and had never noticed it before. It made me smile, what a brilliant quality to be recognised for! It really is a true reflection of her character. She asks a lot of questions, digests the information and 9 times out of 10 gives an answer that a) no-one else thought of and b) is a considered & valuable solution to the problem. In short, she’s a clever cookie.

An Inquisitive Mind got her through a law degree and has taken her to a very senior role, yet those achievements aren't displayed on the walls of her home. It was the “jokey” award which her husband framed for everyone to see, which takes pride of place. Clearly he recognises it’s special, along with hard work and determination it’s possibly the key to her success.

This gave me food for thought.

In high school, about 20 years ago, a new subject called Computer Studies was added to the curriculum. Someone in the Know realised that in the future understanding how a computer worked would be helpful in finding a job.

I suffered from a severe lack of motivation in this particular class, I was very bored which led to me talking, a lot, and my school report stated that:

“If Computer Studies was a “social” subject Annie would be an A student”.

This report landed me in trouble and after being grounded, or some other punishment familiar to teenagers, I buckled down and like every other kid passed the modules. I'm pretty sure most of the UK population now takes those skills for granted.

Could my ability to engage/ distract those around me have been an early sign that I should choose a career in communications? Well, no-one spotted that, I just into trouble, “people skills” didn't carry much weight and my chance to shine was cruelly quashed. Okay, so I've embellished that, but you know where I'm going with this.

Someone in the Know was right, we needed those skills but if everyone has them how do we stand out from the crowd when looking for a job? What is your unique selling point?

If I had to choose between a degree in x,y,z OR “An Inquisitive Mind” I know what I’d chose.

And you?

Pretty Shoes ...

I've spent the last week on a beach in Portugal without my phone, email or Twitter, and had some breathing space to think and to recharge my batteries. Here's my latest update:

When I was a wee girl, five or six years old, we always went to the same shop for our school shoes. We didn’t have a lot of money so whilst I always wanted the patent shoes, with the frills on the front, we always got a “sensible pair” that were scuff resistant, comfortable and likely to endure all the running, skipping, falling and climbing that make up childhood adventures.

Going to the shoe shop was a cause of excitement for my big sister and I because they had a very ‘high tech’ machine that measured your feet. It looked a bit like a shiny silver treadmill you stood on and held on to the bar. Then you lowered your foot into a rectangle that made a “zhoosh” noise and slowly the metal sides moved in to take the measurement. There was a sense of fear that it would crush your foot (for those with an active imagination) and excitement because at that age I really thought, once it gave the size, I’d be getting the patent shoes.

Every year I left the shop with a sensible pair and a petted lip. My sister would get the same style but couldn’t care less about the shoes, she loved the machine and I loved the frills. Now I’m all grown up I still love the fancy shoes but I understand the importance of the right fit, and know what suits one person doesn’t suit an other.

Why am I telling this story in a blog about job hunting? Well, when I closed my business I was fortunate to be offered a great job opportunity. I've always been really interested in communication and with my business background it seemed that this role was perfect for me. I love social media, it's the communication part that fascinates me. I like the connection and am interested in the language, trends, topics and experience it provides for both business and personal use. For me it's about the content, the idea generation, networking and building relationships off line,you still can't beat a real life conversation.

However in reality the “foot measuring machine” would have told me this job wasn’t the best fit for me and to try another shoe. So, I took a bold step and resigned, worked my notice and finished up last week. Some people think I'm nuts to give up a good job in a recession but it's always easy to comment from the sidelines, and life would be so dull if we were all the same. Me? I'm looking forward to whatever is around the corner.


Life is too short to wear the wrong shoes.

Job hunting....

Did you realise that job hunting is a bit like being in the Mafia? There are things you know, but can’t discuss outside “the family” and it wouldn’t be a smart move to post them online. I’ve been stalling on updating this blog because what I write now affects my prospects of getting a job if I mention the companies I have spoken to and the interviews I’ve had. So my usual style of telling you every last juicy detail will have to curtailed slightly, for now.

I’ve officially been job hunting for ten days since Beluga finally closed. It appears that it’s all a bit of a waiting game. I’ve spent the last few years being very pro-active in organising events and running my business and I’m keen to get moving on a new challenge. I don’t want to pester the living daylights out of agencies but at the same time sitting still waiting for the phone to ring isn’t really my style. I need to find a balance somewhere in the middle.

My CV has been posted to all my contacts and is on the major job searching sites. I’ve had the “we don’t think your skills match” emails that are churned out by an automated service somewhere and I've had interviews; my first in nearly 13 years! S1jobs suggested I become an Army Officer which caused much hilarity amongst my friends, have you seen that Goldie Hawn film? I like my lipstick and heels to much for that kind of career move.

So, what am I doing with my time? I’ve been putting proposals together to run social media accounts for two brands who were fans of my @TheBelugaClub account on Twitter. I love social media so am excited about this however long term I want to work as part of a team, rather than home alone with my laptop.

I’ve also been shaking a lot of hands. Meeting people face to face and having a good old blether is my favourite form of doing business. I’m putting myself in front of as many people as I can and continuing to build my contacts. I’m a fan of the New Media Breakfasts and I worked my way around the room, and the buffet, at the Power Lunch Club last week. Tomorrow night I’m heading to the Social Media Dinner and whilst there is a clear pattern of avoiding cooking, I really enjoy networking, hearing people’s stories, learning and sharing experiences. I’m the girl who always knows someone who can help you because I’ve invested a lot of time listening to my customers/associates and building relationships. During the week I had a call from a documentary maker who was looking for contacts for a film she’s making and I found her 3 candidates. Sometimes in life it is a case of “who you know”!

So, here I am approaching the end of my second week without a “proper" job. How do I feel? On the whole I’m happy and positive although there is the odd moment of panic. I trail through the jobs advertised and wonder where I’ll end up and how long it’s going to take? In my heart I know it will be okay and as long as there isn’t a horses head in my bed tomorrow morning I’m winning!

Two weeks later.......

It's been a crazy fortnight!

I’ve had 5 enquiries about purchasing my business/website/brand and have a few meetings in January about potential jobs. You could have knocked me down with a feather; I wasn’t expecting that response. In 2 weeks time everything will be done and dusted and Beluga in its current form, will be gone. The chapter will be closed and I will be stepping into the great unknown.

One of the things that took me by surprise after I posted the last blog was the response from those I chat to on Twitter. So many people got in touch to say that they were unhappy with something in their life and that my announcement encouraged them to start making changes and gave them food for thought. I think that’s pretty cool.

Four years ago today I was in A&E with a fractured skull after slipping in the bath and smashing the back of my head. Two inches to the right and I’d be paralysed, if the bath water hadn’t drained away I wouldn’t be here typing this now. It was a very painful and frightening experience, I lost a lot of my memory and for a long time it took away my confidence. I did however learn a very valuable lesson, that life is too short.

Last night I checked my watch at 11.45pm and actually jumped up and down with excitement waiting for the bells to bring in the New Year. I was singing, dancing and laughing with my arms wrapped round the people I love and a huge smile on my face. What does 2010 have in store for me? I have no idea. I feel exceptionally lucky. I have amazing friends, I have my health and I have a penchant for walking on the sunny side of the street, even when it’s raining.

Wishing you a very Happy New Year. Here’s to 2010, a new beginning, a new decade, a new adventure?

Annie x

Closing down my business

Have you ever been skinny dipping? You take every last stitch of clothing off, you run (I doubt anyone casually strolls) squealing with delight into the cold water and immerse yourself in the coolness. The sense of freedom is so liberating it’s a natural high, it’s slightly naughty and feels like heaven. Making the decision to close my business, the thing I have worked so very hard for, has been huge. I didn’t sleep for weeks but now the decision is made the sense of relief is overwhelming. It’s feels like skinny dipping, it’s the only way for me to describe how I feel.

In January 2008 I left my 11 year career in the airlines and set up The Beluga Club, an online dating and events company for 27 – 49 year olds, based in Scotland. I’ve built an enviable customer base, created and developed a brand, sold memberships and tickets, organised nearly 30 events, introduced hundreds of people and tried to always offer honest advice and excellent customer service.

The Beluga Club featured in the Ecosse section of the Sunday Times, the Herald, Daily Record, Scotsman, Evening Times and some local papers. We got mentions on numerous radio stations and I even phoned in Chris Evans Radio 2 show and made a request live on air for a song for The Beluga Club – not bad for free advertising! We’ve worked with Glasgow University and the research is incredibly interesting and valuable to our sector.

The Beluga Club has introduced many couples who are dating and in relationships and to my knowledge 9 couples live together as a result of meeting via our service. Beluga really is a social network, our events offer a different approach to dating, we don’t have naff name badges, we take time to introduce people and know the majority of our customers - some choose to treat it like a business, others want the personal touch. There are certain aspects of the business that I love, it’s extremely rewarding to watch friendships and romances blossom and know that I played a part in making people happy. I also really enjoy answering email questions about dating and relationships, a free service I’ve offered via our Twitter account @TheBelugaClub. Its been a brilliant experience, I’ve learnt so much and had the pleasure of meeting some truly wonderful people. I’ve had the support of the bar and restaurants trades in Glasgow and Edinburgh and developed valuable relationships for future roles.

So, why am I closing down the business? For the last 2 years I have eaten, slept and breathed Beluga. It has become a way of life instead of a job, it has taken over everything. If my business was a hotel I would be checking people in, cleaning rooms, cooking breakfast and carrying luggage out to the car. It’s too much for one person and I need to find a balance between my work and my personal life. At 33 I want to live my life to the full, I want to surround myself with those I love and I want to be laughing, dancing, socialising and not working myself into the ground. I believe that life is for living. I want to grab it with both hands, stand at the edge and jump right in. I need a work/life balance and can’t find a way to achieve that whilst running Beluga.

By the time you read this all my customers will be informed that the business is closing. It’s going to be a busy week dealing with all the enquiries and the refunds and contacting all the businesses we work with. I’m not entirely sure what the reaction is going to be or how I am going to feel but for me it’s the right choice. I’d like to say that the business doesn’t owe anyone money, we’re not going bust and the tax man isn’t after me. I have no plans to leave the country unless it’s for a holiday.

I am also now looking for a job. When I left the airlines people asked “What does an air hostess do when she hangs up her wings?” For me the answer was to run a social network, organise events and build a business. Now I wonder what a dating expert does when she stops matchmaking? I’ve always worked hard, I’m full of ideas and enthusiasm and working with people is where I’m at my best. I’m organised and I work well under pressure. I can take the knock and I bounce back. What does the New Year have in store for me? I have no idea, I’m open to offers, my interview shoes are polished and I’m just a little bit excited about my new beginning. Will it involve social media, events, sales, PR? Who knows, let’s see what happens.