Intoxicating.

Well, it's safe to say, I've just had the best New Year, ever. I'm so happy, my face is hurting because I can't physically stop smiling. The kind of happiness that you can't shift, even if you try. I've been wearing my best smile for about 72 hours now, even in the midst of one of the worst hangovers imaginable. The last few days have been a blur, a brilliant, surreal blur. I feel like it sort of all merged into one, happy, messy day. One person in particular is responsible for my Cheshire cat-sized grins, racing pulse and sheer volume of sleep deprivation. Someone who can potentially, (and is already) making me the happiest I've been in a hell of a long time. Someone who knows me better than most, and for some mad reason, doesn't want to run a mile at the prospect of being with me. I honestly can't imagine why, but I'm very happy that he thinks that. I feel a bit brainwashed. It's intoxicating. I feel totally drunk, even though I'm (yes, for the first time in 2014 I can say this and truthfully mean it) stone-cold sober. My face is aching, I literally haven't stopped grinning from ear to ear. I can't think straight, it's impossible to concentrate, I'm checking my phone every five seconds like I'm demented or something. I don't think I've took a breath properly in days. Everything just feels so right. It kind of makes me want to kick myself, I mean, if this is what I've been missing out on all this time, then I seriously must be mad. I have a deadline looming, and I want to abandon it, because there's somewhere I'd much rather be. I'm pretty ecstatic right now. There isn't anything or anyone that can shake this mood, and I'm so relieved. I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I really am happy.

Little things.

Ignore the fact that this blog post coincidentally has the same name as a song by One Direction. I have to admit straight away, to avoid any confusion or ambiguity that this was absolutely not my intention, it's just that it's kind of important that this post has that name. As anyone that knows me well will be able to confirm, I really love the little things in life, a kind gesture like holding the door open for someone, or a smile from a stranger or even just a simple matter of helping someone out when they need it. These things are the kind of things that not only make my day, but reaffirm my faith in humanity, especially when there's so much hate and carnage in the world. My latest happy moment came from a news story I first came across on Twitter, and it is truly phenomenal, so I thought I'd share it.

A few days ago, in Boston, America, a 54-year-old homeless man named Glen James found a backpack in a local shopping mall, containing travelers cheques and lots of foreign currency totalling at a value of $40,000 (£25,000) While this man had very sparse possessions and no money or shelter, he proceeded to do the honest thing and handed the backpack, containing the full amount of money, to the police, with no regard for his own well-being. Meanwhile, the traveler whose backpack it was had reported the bag missing to the police, who then traced it and reunited the man with his belongings. Mr James then received quite a lot of media attention due to his selfless act of honesty with sparked someone else to follow in his footsteps, and do a good deed. 

When citizen Ethan Whittington read about Mr James' selfless honesty in the paper, he applauded him for his actions, and felt so strongly about what this man had done that he started a fund for him, as a reward. As of today, Ethan Whittington, with the help of others in the community, have helped raise a huge $100,000 to help Mr James and those like him who have fell on hard times and been left on the streets. When asked in an interview, Mr James said he could never even consider taking the money, as no matter how little he had, it was not his to take. 

This brought a tear to my eye, (I mean everyone knows I'm a sucker for a happy ending!) because even when this man could've just walked away, carrying £25,000 to give himself a better life, despite the fact the money wasn't rightfully his, his compassion and his honesty prevailed, and he deserves an indescribable amount of credit for that. It just shows you what lengths some people are willing to go for for others. A story that left me grinning from ear to ear. Proof that, even now, in 2013, with new conflicts breaking out around the world and financial struggles both sides of the Atlantic, if you dig deep enough, basic human kindness is what everyone has the chance to offer. Glen James is a hero in my mind, and I have massive amounts of respect for a man who listened to his conscience, rather than gut-instinct, and did the right thing. It really is the little things that count. 

Mixed-up metaphors.

It’s human nature to beat around the bush, avoid the obvious, tip-toe around the subject matter at all costs. But why is it, we can never say what we actually mean? We throw about one-too-many sneaky metaphors lately, and I’m beginning to think it’s a bad habit. There seems to be something about speaking your mind or saying exactly what you think that’s risky. Do you brand yourself the “arrogant” one, the “bitch” or the “tosser” because you’re “blunt” and speak up? Or do you become a shrinking violet, shy away into yourself and hover around the truth like a moth dallying around a flame, scarcely aware of the danger which lies ahead? Sometimes, using all of these back-handed, mixed-up, complicated metaphors is the lesser of two evils. At least, if you’re not 100% honest, you don’t risk hurting someone’s feelings or making a name for yourself as the bitchiest girl around.

We live in a world where the clichéd “it’s not you, it’s me” and “we’ll maybe we’re better off as friends” are the norm. They echo between the school corridors and rattle around the walls of workplaces. Yet, it’s funny, we all know what the underlying meaning really is. “It’s not you, it’s me” does mean it’s you but we’re all too polite to come right out with it. Being Friend-zoned, everyone knows, just is another back-handed term for telling someone you used to associate with, that you actually don’t want to establish a “relationship” and that time you kissed after seventeen Tequila slammers really was just the drink talking, not you confessing your undying love for a colleague, friend or associate.

Everywhere we go, we seem to be surrounded by our inability to tell the truth, point out the obvious and embrace honesty as really “the best policy.” When did we start needing life to be not only sugar-coated, but deep-fried in chocolate and wrapped in a dozen layers of cotton wool? When did the truth really get so ugly? Hide haphazardly behind your rose-tinted RayBans all you like, we can never, ever, fully escape the truth. Even if it is buried deep under our skin, it’s always waiting to break out like a caged gremlin on a vengeful promise.

Maybe we should be more honest with each other. Maybe lying does really breed contempt. Is it more damaging to hide behind your mixed messages and metaphors or to speak the truth and dare to get chastised for it? This time, I really don’t know. I think it depends on context. If your friend is trying a dress on that really doesn't suit her, and she asks your opinion, you politely suggest another dress to try on instead, rather than tell her out-right that you abhor her choice of outfit, hurt her feelings and risk damaging your friendship. However, if someone asks you straight-up for the truth, they catch you off-guard. You stammer. You become cagey. Your become unable to process your own thoughts. They become trapped in a limbo unlike any other, between your brain and your tongue, the words just linger.

Does this person really want to hear the God Honest truth, or are they testing to see whether you’ll follow your brain or your conscience? I think that’s a judgement call. Sometimes it is better to speak your mind, but other times., keep shtum unless its absolutely necessary. Some things aren't meant to be repeated, no matter how much you want to share it.