It occurred to me the other day that I have been blogging (as Loops & Flicks) for nearly 10 years.
It occurred to me, because I was importing all my previous blog posts into the new web content management system I'm using (which is what is allowing me to create these hilarious AI images in each post, and I won't lie, they're not in any way, shape or form quality but I do find them funny...her left hand, FFS. Yeah, you can't unsee it now, can you?)
Anyway, as I was importing the posts, I was vaguely checking for errors and formatting, but not particularly carefully, when I noticed the date on the post I was editing was the same date as that day. But from 2015. Even more alarmingly, that post wasn't even the first blog post I wrote. It just happens to be the first one that survived moving. (Apparently at some point I had a tumblr blog for this!)
So tonight, I decided to look up blog posts from this date over the last nine years. I haven't written every day, so in some cases, I have had to opt for a post with the nearest date to today. It is what it is. If consistency was my gift, I'd be a size six with no personality. I LIVE FOR THE CHAOS.
So, oldest post first (with subsequent updates...)....here we go.
This post took place after my first 'big' absence since blogging began, and it was due to some friends of mine getting married. They are no longer married. They did not make it to their first wedding anniversary. It was horrible. I have lost touch with him, and she lives with her new partner in the wilds of Scotland with at least three children. I have lost track because we have also lost touch.
I also no longer explain my absences with such care. I am who I am and sometimes, I forget to write things down. Sometimes I forget appointments, to pay bills, to text my friends back...and sometimes I forget I am supposed to be blogging consistently in a vague attempt to do it well enough to maybe make some sort of income from it. Hasn't happened yet. One day, baby! One day! Blogging will pay the bills! It'll just have to be a very small bill.
The tale of how Ma and I obtained and delivered Sneaky Kitty to Grandpa is one of my favourite memories and pieces of writing. Tommy (aka Sneaky Kitty) fell in love with Gramps almost immediately and was devoted to him from their first day together to their last. He brought Gramps much joy before he died. Tommy, that is. Gramps is still going, as he is quite possibly indestructible and/or a vampire. Jury's still out. Tommy, however, lived fast and died young in a fight with a car that he lost. Gramps refuses to get a new cat.
This was from the beginning of June 2020, when lockdown was still young, and novel, and we were still naive in believing that we would not be housebound for the best part of two years. I had also not yet been diagnosed with ADHD, and I was still coping with being fairly newly diagnosed with fibromyalgia. I do a lot of bollocks talking in this post about making healthy choices and not berating myself for seeking biscuit-based oblivion, and honestly, if I could reach back through time and slap myself, I really would. It all sounds great, yeah, OK, but it's lip service to the arbiters of thinness, and not to the gods of health. What I have learned since then could probably fill a book about health and weight and fatphobia and shame and medical care and neurotransmitters and all sorts of other things. LOL. Baby Loops. So ignorant.
So there we go! A quick glance back over the last nine years, and a few updates. RIP Tommy, a whole ass marriage and Lockdown Weight Gain Shame.
What a wild ride.
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