Welcome to the madhouse!

So, Ophelia was driven insane by grief and eventually killed herself following a possible homemade abortion. While I realise that I sound as if I'm trying to be deep and meaningful with this introduction she is a character I have often sympathised with, born in the wrong place, at the wrong time and falling in love with the wrong man, hence the name of this blog. There is also a tongue in cheek reference to the song Cry Ophelia by Adam Cohen, for while I've never tried to kill myself, by throwing myself in a river or otherwise, I've often had strange thoughts and found myself stifled by people's expectations of me, so I merely sulk, rather than weep.

To counteract all this. and make myself less sulky, I read, I write, I sing in a pub on Wednesday nights (strictly kareoke) and I watch as many fantasy movies as I can fit into my life. I knit, I sew, I do counted thread cross stitch, I drink endless cups of coffee and cans of Diet Coke and I search for a job. I drink wine, bake cakes, make crack brownies and gingerbread (containing absolutely no crack, but addictive all the same) sleep with a stuffed rabbit and watch any other movies people recommend to me. I have the aspiration of becoming an author and we'll see how that pans out. For now I'm living on my very understanding husband's salary while I wait for the economy to pick up enough for me to get a minimum wage retail position in which I intend to use my degree in Applied Psychology on a daily basis.

In contrast to Ophelia, I fell in love with the right man. A man who loves me despite my many faults and who may drive me mad with his inability to sit still of an evening but who will be quiet and attentive when he needs to be. I was not born into a noble family. I was born into a strictly middle class working family, my mother is a nurse, my father an engineer and we were always perfectly comfortable and happy thankyouverymuch, until my mother left my father for my step-father, but more of that another day. I have never had an abortion, imaginary, inferred, homemade or otherwise, but long for a family and cannot wait until that day when I get to wave a blue stick in the air and and scream "It's positive!"

I am 24 years old, I have been married for three years and life is about to change, as it did for Ophelia all those years ago, though hopefully not in such a traumatic manner. I aim to see this change through to the end without stopping by the local psychiatric unit. My husband has just accepted a job in another city, which leaves us three weeks and five days to find somewhere to live, get down a deposit, get quotes for and move all our belongings, and sell our house. Obviously we don't expect to sell the house in three weeks (though if anyone is listening, that would be just lovely!) so we're looking for somewhere to rent for now and hoping someone out there is in a good enough mood to let us move in two weeks time. Of course this change would only come about after several friends from faraway lands have made plans to come and stay with us between now and Christmas, but luckily we have very understanding friends.

So, for now, I waver on the brink of insanity, not yet quoting the uses and myths of flowers, but wondering how on earth we're going to manage this move when the last time we moved it took us three months to get the paperwork signed and released. I think the only option is endless optimism. And lots of wine and ice cream. Yes. I think that might be the key...