Welcome to the Odd Side.

I am so sorry about this blog being late, and averting to posting on Sunday instead. My laptop has been subjected to lots of verbal abuse. 5 things I don’t usually tell people about myself. Well, in my blogs usually I’m quite open about who I am, but everyone has those few weird or embarrassing or just intensely private things they keep to themselves. Here goes;
1)   I have this urgent and deep desire to travel. I like England (Somerset particularly with its little thatched houses and cider made in barns that after a pint you’re on the floor or on the toilet) but I want to explore. I adore culture, music, food, dancing, spirituality and I want to immerse myself in how other people do it. I have a strong pull toward Ireland, Finland, Sweden, Russia, Morocco and India. I will do it eventually, because as well as being a dreamer I’m bloody stubborn.
2)   I have a very eclectic taste in music, which nobody knows about… until now. My guilty pleasures of music that I really do tend to keep to myself usually are my love for trance and its heavy euphoric beats, and Turkish belly dancing.  Yes I have a blue and purple coin belt and sometimes try to dance to it in my room tripping over stuff with the grace of an elephant. The neighbours haven’t complained yet so I see no issue other than my profound embarrassment if someone saw me do it.
3)   I’m not fond of dogs. The reason people never find this out about me is I usually get ambushed angrily. How can I be so cold? Man’s best friend and all that. No, I couldn’t care less. They’re too much for me. Bouncy, and loud. I am cat lady. Though, when Lilith the kitten chews up my socks or starts playing troll under the patterned blanket draped over the sofa so I end up sitting on her extended claws I couldn’t care for her either.
4)   I have a love/hate relationship with a microwave penguin teddy. I’ve had it for years, and it’s my companion in winter along with a pair of fluffy owl slippers. It smells nicely of lavender when you heat it up, and it’s cuddly, but I have to get the timing in the microwave just right or the bloody thing goes cold within a minute. Or it gets so hot it burns me harshly and it receives a string of verbal abuse and often ends up abandoned in the wash basket. Yes I know it’s sad, but men go intensely hot or cold too, and I can’t throw them at the wall. 
5)   I have a love for beached wood. I live in a place that has deep woodland, and also seashore. I’m constantly roaming both. In the summer, I have a habit of exploring the shoreline to see if any beached wood has washed up. I have often before brought home huge washed up branches of it over my shoulder. Why? Because I love the texture, the colour, the general strange beauty of it. Once I bring it home, I work with it. I sand down the remaining rough bits, and then set to pyrography, which is burning patterns and pictures into the wood with a hot iron pen. There’s a beached branch in my bedroom leant against the overflowing bookcase, covered in Celtic and Norse symbols, with shells, leaves, crystals and pretty beads dangling down from its twisting limbs. That, accompanied with the decorative Viking axe propped against my wall, is the reason I rarely let people come into my room.
J