T is for Traumas

So what are these traumas I speak of in my title, you ask?
Well I’m going to try and keep this entry as short as I can today because of my first trauma. Actually it’s not really the trauma I thought it was going to be when I first got my manuscript back from my editor, along with all her suggested edits for the novel. To begin with I felt like I was going back to school and I’d got a piece of homework back with the teacher’s red pen scored all over my work - telling me everything I’d done wrong, and suggestions on how I could go about putting it right again. But now I’m well into the editing process (you’ll be glad to know Caroline if you’re reading this!) I realise that not only will my novel be much improved as a result, but I’ve learnt a lot from doing it, (not only how many times I use the words Well, OK and glared!) and I’m sure my future writing will be much improved as a result too.
My second recent trauma was my hair.
I decided a few weeks ago to return back to blonde hair again. I’d had a year of being a brunette, and although I’d enjoyed it, I felt like it was time for a change again.
So my hairdresser, Helen came around at 9am last Monday morning to perform the transformation from brunette back to blonde. She had warned me it would take a long time, so she had allowed over 5 hours for the appointment. To cut a very long story short, she left my house at 7pm that evening and my colour still wasn’t right! To say I looked like Rapunzel or even Goldilocks was an understatement, I almost glowed in the dark!
But good on Helen she returned two days later and spent another few hours adding yet more colour (or was that taking it away?!) until I eventually turned into what I call a strawberry blonde. It’s still not quite my ideal shade of blonde yet, or back to what I was before, but at least I don’t look like I belong in a fairytale now!
Warning: It’s a lot harder to go from brunette back to blonde, than it is to go from blonde to brunette!
Photos of the transformation...

Me looking slightly bleary eyed but dark haired first thing!

Me with all the colour stripped out of my hair!

Yes it was meant to go this colour!

Looking like an oven ready turkey!

Nope this isn't the right colour!!

Trying to put on a brave face with GOLD hair!!

Two days later.. phew that's better.

My third and final trauma put any minor issues I thought I may have been having with my writing or the colour of my hair into perspective, when I heard on Sunday morning about the sad and untimely death of Stephen Gately, of Boyzone at his holiday home in Majorca.
I was never a fan of Boyzone when they were in their heyday in the 1990’s. I became a fan of Ronan Keating’s when he was a solo artist, and so came across Stephen firstly through listening to old Boyzone songs, and then in the last couple of years when I was lucky enough to see Boyzone reunited together on their last two come-back tours as a band. Even though I have no qualms in admitting that I was there mainly to see Ronan, I was always impressed by Stephen’s stage presence and incredible enthusiasm the entire time he was in front of the crowd.

You hear the term ‘a born performer’ banded about a lot. But that’s definitely what Stephen was. And perform he did over and over again to his many adoring fans not only with Boyzone, but in the West End too in shows such as Joseph and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

I met him just the once, backstage at Edinburgh castle in 2008 and again he was just like he appeared on stage - happy, enthusiastic and eager to please.
I send my thoughts and deepest sympathies to his partner Andrew, his family, friends, and all his loyal fans.

Until the next time,
A x