Be careful what you wish for*

Imagine my disappointment when I found out that the lyrics to the Pussy Cat Dolls song "When I grow up" were not:

When I grow up
I wanna see the world
Drive nice cars
I wanna have boobies

but were in fact

When I grow up
I wanna see the world
Drive nice cars
I wanna have groupies

*or you just might get it

Time to focus

The tv broke last night. It's been warped for almost as long as we've had it, the screen squeezed in the centre, like an hourglass. Last night one side decided to slide back out again, and the image went with it, followed by white noise, a burning smell and some disconcerting beeping.

Hopefully the death of the tv will make me more productive. I have a 'to do' list a mile long - just for home working jobs, one of the downsides to running a 'business' outside of working hours. None of them are remotely fun; accounting, processing wholesale orders, sorting spreadsheets out. As you can imagine, this will bring me a level of joy hardly experienced before. It's no small wonder I've decided to tidy the front bedroom, and write a blog post.

I was reading Colouring outside the lines #2 earlier, a zine I picked up at Manchester zine fest last Saturday. It's a great issue full of interviews with amazing (female) artists, including some comic creators who's work is super inspiring and is reigniting my love of graphic novels. Check out the Colouring outside the lines myspace for more info.

An interview with Cristy Road about communicating about punk and alternative culture struck a chord with me - she talks about sharing her punk roots because her experiences there made her who she is today. I guess this was relevant to me because I've drifted so far from the punk aesthetic that I used to be so into.

I want to reclaim this as, punk is still fundamental to my belief system - through punk I got into feminism, vegetarianism, environmentalism and anti-animal testing. Plus despite my forays into folk, pop and dance it's still punk music that makes my heart beat faster.

When I was in my teens I looked at the old folks at gigs and thought they were drab, boring and no fun at all. When I was moshing, getting a busted lip, they would stand around at the back - arms folded listening without much get up or go. It's all to easy to let that happen, let the pressures and the stifling roles assumed of adulthood push our bright, wild, creative selves into submission so we can fit in at the office. I guess punk is about rejecting the conformity encouraged of us all, the conformity we're goaded into if we're going to achieve what society tells us is success.

But success is about how close you get to the things in life that make you truly happy - it can't be measured in monetary terms or by the number of possessions someone has. 'Wealth' and 'stuff' do not a happy chappy make, don't believe everything capitalism tells you.

Embracing the dumb things that make you happy is a much better measure of success, imho. Dye your hair a stupid colour your boss will hate, listen to music so loud your neighbours will be able to hear the words and then give them all flowers for putting up with you. Pursue a dream you have, and if you get jaded because of the pursuit it's ok to take time out, isn't it. Ultimately the only person you have to satisfy is yourself.