Tribal wives

Has anyone been watching Tribal Wives on BBC 2? Just watched the latest one, with Dionne, a 33 year old Londoner, heartbroken after her last relationship ended and wondering if she'd ever meet the right guy and have kids. What a wonderful woman, she was beautiful and smiled and laughed her whole way through her month with the Maasai. I felt she truly embraced the experience and I found her ability not to judge their ways quite inspiring. This Times reviewer disagrees. He's interpreted her acceptance of polygamy and female circumcision as being agreement with it which I don't think was the case. He also believes this whole series is set up to promote the idea that the tribes have a more real way of living than "us westernised wage drones".

Whether it is more "real" or not, what they do have is a sense of community. I'm not necessarily a believer that we should all go back to our hunter gatherer roots, but I do keep coming back to this thought of community over and over again as I readjust to what UK society expects of me in my mid thirties. i.e. to own a flat, to have reached a certain level in my career, have a husband or partner, be planning or having my first kid and be in a comfortable financial position. (It's not looking too great on any of these things, but I wouldn't say I was unsuccessful as a person.)

More than anything, this series has shown the love and support and joy these people experience in their daily lives. I know it is not all a bed of roses by any means, but this truly was my experience in Borneo too. Their community gets them through the hard work and inequality and hunger and whatever other trials they may face.

I helped out at this mad Rat Race at the weekend. Coerced a little by Pippa but it of course I loved it. Lots of (mostly) over-achieving types putting themselves through physical hell. (Most of whom too conformist and over-achieving to be truly sexy. It did have the potential to be one great perv fest, but sadly didn't quite deliver; lycra is never a good look.) It was great fun. I chatted to new people all day long whilst playing my small part in a bigger whole and didn't think about myself once. A little community just for one day. We need more of this feeling in our world.

Ah yes, this is real life

Back at work. (Never fear, not for long, just a month-long contract initially.) Day 3 and I'm remembering what real life is like. I have no time to write and waste time reading interesting things on the internet whilst I debate what to do with my life (which is probably already half-lived anyway, I may add, particularly with my bad Grant genes)

I actually have a focus, and it is BRILLIANT. I promise, I will never moan about work again. I'm never happier than when I have a project and I'm right in the middle of it. Yes! Identity! Status! And lovely new high heels from Dune to help me think into this status, I see them as a work necessity. They were in the sale and are on my Amex card which is just as well. Being a freelancer I am technically a supplier so heaven only knows when I'll actually get paid.

Being a freelancer also means you think much more about the value you're actually adding. Better go.

If you're happy and you know it....

I spent the afternoon with my wee nephew today. He washed my hair for me. (Paula was cutting it, so this wasn't as random as it sounds.) What a lovely feeling to have his little hands on my head, saying "is that nice Auntie Hannah?". En route to the park, we were singing "If you're happy and you know it....." {insert ending of his choice} which was our cue to perform.

So I've decided I could set up a little business. "Rent a prime-time kid". The market would be overworked and undersocialised single 30 and 40 somethings with too much time to think about themselves and their issues.

You cannot fail to be high on life after an afternoon with a small child. My only problem would be guaranteeing the quality of the product. Because come the walk home, he was most definitely on the tired and whiny side. That's where my value proposition could well collapse.

Summer in Scotland. Supposedly.

Just woken up to find more rain. It rained all yesterday too. According to the BBC, it'll be 15 degrees max, 11 degrees min today. That's about 59 fahrenheit for those of you over the pond.

Here's the view from the window.

I'm realising I have a whole bunch of clothes I'm never going to wear up here. On the plus side, I'll save a fortune in fake tan, and I can relax about bearing my extra winter flesh, it's never going to be too hot for jeans. Not to mention my wonderful skin, no danger of sun-baked wrinkles plus I've kicked the lingering fag habit. I guess that means I'll remain forever youthful, chilled in the refrigerator that is Great Britain.

Low income hair care

Hmmm. Just had a shower. (Time = 1.50pm.) I smell most unusual, mainly due to my Morrisons Hair Specifics Blonde Sparkle, just £1.29, although I think my Dove Conditioner from the Bargain Bin, just £1, has evened it out a little.

It's a kind of bad perfume smell, way too sweet, although it has to beat the Sunsilk Yoghurt & Coconut option.

I surprised myself with how hard I found it to make this choice in the supermarket. Of course, I realised the usual John Frieda Blonde was out of the question, but was sure I could at least go for L'Oreal Garnier. Then I realised even that was a full £2 more. I couldn't even have told you the price before, I never looked at it.

I don't know how anyone (Iain) can possibly still argue we make rational decisions about our purchases. The scenario was a prime example of my brand loyalty, although hard economics won the day in the end. Just.

On a related note, I stumbled upon another post about the disposable generation today. An American mother's view this time. (All her talk of Target made me feel quite Salt Lake-sick.) She's found this great site. www.kiva.org. It lends small amounts of money to entrepeneurs in developing countries. So if you save a little on the likes of John Frieda shampoo, you can send it to specific people. How real, I like it, although unfortunately the little I have saved has to be used to feed me. That's if I don't blow it on a latte to cheer myself up later on.