I’ve often thought about taking dance classes. Partly as a fun form of exercise and partly to prevent me falling into side-stepping dance habits and to kick the spinning technique that sadly reveals my age. I aspire to be like Cheryl Cole when she learned to dance for Will.i.am, a Britney-at-her-best standard dancer. A little bit cool and a little bit street. And so not me in reality.

My lack of coordination and haphazard rhythm will be a challenge for any dance instructor but should that stop me? No. I need a new hobby and with all my pre-30 insecurities to deal with, a young, cool and hip one would be perfect. Line-dancing, salsa and Strictly-inspired ballroom lack youthful appeal – I want to dance like a popstar rather than Arlene Philips!

Fresh Vibes is launching adult street dance classes in Birmingham this month and I’m tempted to join the waiting list (yes, it’s that popular!) But I have a few fears.  Will it be full of 20 year old urban trendy types rather than 30 year old, middle-class wannabes? Will I be the granny of the crowd? Will it be full of sad older people struggling to come to terms with their age? Will I ridicule myself? Will I injure some poor, unsuspecting classmate with my uncoordinated but extravagant technique and get banned from dancing in public ever again?

Then again, it may just be harmless fun and I could end up with a lithe dancer body that will slither into the body-con dresses that I love and fear in equal proportions.

I may need to recruit some support. Would anyone like to join me on the dance floor?

LJ

Well, Mr J and I suddenly felt strangely conspicuous due to the absence of a dribbling child in our arms or boisterous three year old tugging at our legs to have the next go on the tractor (tractors definitely seem to be the ‘it’ toy at the moment). This is an example of where rent-a-child would have been a great investment to divert the “it’ll be you two next” assertions and the uncomfortable “when are you going to start a familiy” type questions. Of course, Mr J can always be guaranteed to pull out his “well we don’t know if little M works yet” line which so succinctly bounces the uncomfortableness back to the unsuspecting questioner.

I have to admit, despite not being ready for the whole family thing myself, it was really lovely to see so many of our friends so happy, remarkably relaxed and settled into family life.  And not only do they all seem to be very fertile but they also have produced some extremely cute children – perfect for rental I say – but  not quite enough to make me feel broody just yet.

Although after reading a scary article in Marie Claire on how female fertility takes a steep nosedive post-thirty I suddenly feel very aware of my aging ovaries.

“When she was 22 the future looked bright
But she’s nearly 30 now and she’s out every night
I see that look in her face she’s got that look in her eye
She’s thinking how did I get here and wondering why

It’s sad but it’s true how society says
Her life is already over
There’s nothing to do and there’s nothing to say

… blah di blah di blah”

It’s sad but it’s true is it Lily?  I’d like to encourage all my fellow 29 year olds to disagree. We may not have it all sorted by 30 but there’s still lots of time for us to do and achieve everything we want and have lots of fun and excitement along the way.

I used to like you Lily.  But now I don’t.

LJ

This, of course, is a million miles away from the reality of my situation.  Opting to take voluntary redundancy is the best thing for me and my career in the long run but financially it is going to be more nights in with a pizza from Asda than planning the expansion of my property portfolio!

With a week’s holiday in a Cornish cottage booked, I was expecting to come back longing to escape the urban sprawl of Birmingham, pining for wellies and the romance of country calm.  But I have to say, I’m feeling surprisingly at home back in the crowds, convenience and noise of my urban home.  The cottage break was fantastic – it was a really cute and cosy cottage in an idyllic hamlet only a few miles from the coast.  The thing is I’m not ready to hang up my stilettos just yet.

Why?

1. My body repelled the  country air – it turned out it wasn’t that fresh.  Polluted with particularly pungent pollen my eyes had swollen to the size of golf balls by day four.  Not a good look.

2. All the animals mean I am slightly on edge in the wide open country.  Big scary cows, psycho staring sheep, swooping sea gulls – there was danger of attack everywhere.  OK, most people seemed unperturbed but I am yet to embrace animal love.

3. Patchy mobile phone coverage, no sign of WiFi and a temperamental TV signal was a dream come true for a holiday.  A complete escape from it all.  But really, a life with inconsistent access to email, Facebook and my favourite TV guilty secrets … how do people do it?

4.  Whoever built the Cornish country roads was absolutely delusional.  There was no way two cars moving in opposite directions were ever going to travel hassle free down the single track roads the Cornish road planners foolishly designed.  Even my little Mini struggled.  After a week of tense, steering wheel clenching journeys where I hoped and prayed another car would not be travelling towards me forcing me to wedge my beautiful automobile into a hedge so they could pass, I was strangely over-excited to see busy A roads and motorways.

5. I can’t resist tea shops and cream teas.  Country cafes have an irresistible charm.  A cream tea a day for a week has not done my waist line any favours.  Imagine if that was my life – obesity here I come!

Who am I kidding though.  I still want the dream, just not quite yet.  Barbecues on the beach, country walks, farms shops and tweeting birds, I had a fantastic week.  It’s just the lifestyle adjustments and laid back attitude that are essential for country living do not quite match my current erratic ambitions and impatience.

All in all, this revelation has made me feel surprisingly youthful. The perfect post-holiday feeling!

Claude Knights, director of children’s charity Kidscape, condemned controversial Twitter posts made by Jordan in an article in The Sun, accusing her of setting a negative example to celebrity influenced teenagers.  Indeed, I agree Jordan’s angry use of the c-word is distasteful but this is not my reason for concern.

Jordan’s Tweets are an extreme example of what I call STM (Sharing Too Much) – a social virus that is spreading rampantly amongst online social networking communities.  As more of us sign up to these sites, I fear our immunity levels will dip to a dangerous low.

Previously a condition confined to kiss-and-tell girls and fame hungry Big Brother contestants, even our nearest and dearest are showing symptoms.  Letting off steam in a status update, cruelly tagging “friends” in embarrassing photos, revealing a break up to the world before they’ve told the other person involved.  The line between what is a private matter and what should be exposed to public scrutiny is moving ever closer to the shameful end of the scale.

As Jordan knows only too well, one of the sought after side effects of STM is attention. And this seems to be something even the most bashful amongst us are finding hard to resist.

As a Tweeting, blogging, Facebook addict myself, despite this little rant, I’m reluctantly admitting I have a severe case of STM.   And my dilemma is should I embrace STM or fight it before I reveal too much?

LJ

Jennifer Ann is 23 and after graduating last year has launched her own business – Jennifer Ann Jewellery.  Based from a workshop in Birmingham’s Jewellery Quarter, she is designing and making some really bold, fashion forward, statement jewellery, combining sterling silver settings with bright fabric inserts.  As a self confessed accessory addict – yes, I admit I overdo it sometimes – I must have seemed like a greedy eyed pirate as she opened up her treasure chest of samples.  She has some stunning pieces.

But starting an artistic business isn’t easy.  Especially in the current economic gloom and doom.  I was so impressed with how many ideas she has, her enthusiasm and talent.  It was a real reminder for me not to give up on my dreams by waiting for the economy to signal the all clear to go for it.  It’s never going to be easy breaking into freelance writing so why let the economy be an excuse not to give it my best shot right now.  Not next week, next year, next full moon. Straight away.

The other interview was with Naomi O’Connor.  An impulsive, yet fantastically laid back mum of three who has recently opened Sweet Creams ice cream parlour in Harborne.  It’s a fifties diner styled ice cream wonderland.  The type of place you imagine Greases’s  Danny and Sandy going to enjoy a sundae after dancing away in the sunlight to We Go Together.

All of her ice creams are made on site, with flavours ranging from gin and grapefruit, to bubble gum to blue cheese (?!).  She also sells dairy-free, sugar-free and low-fat varieties and uses fruit from local allotments to meet the growing food fussiness we all have.

Inspired by her dairy intolerant four year old daughter – a pocket sized, bundle of curly hair and chaotic chatter – and a belief that everyone has the right to eat ice cream, Naomi set up Sweet Creams in the middle of the winter and in the midst of the deepest recession of recent decades.  Not many of us would have had the courage and vision to make this work. But she has.  It took lots of persistence to get funding for her start up venture, but Naomi’s complete confidence in her idea, her determination and commitment to her impulses have seen her through.  Also, qualities I hope I can apply to my own career pursuit.

So, as a result I am going to be less scared and more confident in my convictions.  And not let the nasty economy ruin my fun.  It’s finally clicked.  If I spend less time pondering the pros and cons and just get on with it as Jennifer and Naomi are, I might just have a chance of making it happen for me before the dreaded three zero arrives.

And now I’m excited.

LJ

This moment of relieved enlightenment hit me after a very pleasant dinner with a group of my university friends. All of whom will be celebrating the big three zero when they next blow out birthday candles.  We all went to university together at the same time. Yet ten years later our lives are moving in different directions and at varying speeds.

I always pessimistically thought the extreme characters of Sex and the City were a convenient TV script device rather than a reality. And they probably are.  But sitting around a table at Carluccios, it was easy to see our own Sex and the City style roles developing.

Friend one is getting married in a few months time and is preoccupied with wedding dress dilemmas and all of the excitement of planning her big day.  Friend two is expecting her first baby and looking forward to swapping a hectic career for motherhood.  Friend three is living a crazy single life after a bitter break up from a nine year relationship.   And then there’s me, happily married but not ready to have a child, with all my energy focused on pursuing a dream career.

I found all of our differences very reassuring.  When it comes down to it, despite our occasional drama queen outbursts and moans, we’re a happy bunch.  And realising there are no rules and standards for what I should achieve by 30, the pressure is off.  I can define my own future and the pace I decide to pursue life’s major events.

The only thing is now I’m worried the turn of 30 will not be the momentous life occasion I thought it would be!

LJ

Mr J and I were discussing this over a tub of Ben & Jerry’s Caramel Chew Chew on Saturday evening. Whilst he methodically and patiently took spoonfuls from across the top of the tub, I dug deep down to get the chocolate Rolo-like pieces, taking the best bits straight away rather than prolonging the pleasure.  This was the final sign, I need to slow down, think more strategically and approach things less erratically in order to achieve the long term goals I want to achieve.  I need to be the tortoise rather than the hare.

And this is the approach I intend to apply to my career … as well as the training for the half marathon I am seriously considering doing in the autumn.

Is this the latest sign that I’m growing up?

LJ

Mr J on the other hand is the most cautious and sensible of savers – his hero is Martin Lewis of moneysavingexpert.com fame.  I’m not kidding; if it were left to Mr J we would have a framed photo of Martin in pride of position on the fireplace as a shrine to his money saving expertise!  And living with a model money manager is sometimes not easy for a reckless spender like myself.  This has led to many a tearful conversation where I try to justify my spending habits in the hope of inducing his pity rather than disappointment.  I never succeed.

But during our last tearful budget discussion at the end of last year, I declared I wanted to be debt free by my 30^th birthday (except maybe for my student loan and our mortgage which we’ve agreed don’t count!)  And I’m very proud to say I’m doing really well.  I think I may actually do it.  So, my top tips …

Make like Gok Wan and style it up girlfriend! Not buying clothes for me is not an option.  I would be depressed and that’s not the point of my debt busting.  But I am buying less and instead of heading to my higher end High Street favourites (Oasis, Urban Outfitters, All Saints) I’ve been trying out budget alternatives (New Look, H&M, Primark).  And to be honest dressed up with some great Gok inspired accessorising, you can hardly notice the difference. Result.

Work out what’s an essential beauty treat and where you can budget buy. Beauty products are a big indulgence of mine.  I love them all – hair, make up, skincare, the lot.  And I had cupboards bulging with the latest luxury products to prove it.  Again abstinence was not going to work.  I’m nearly 30 after all, I need to look after my skin before I turn into a shrivelled up prune and resort to Botox.  So, I’ve kept the slightly pricier options where necessary (for example, no-one could tear me away from my Liz Earle Hot Cloth Cleanser) but I‘ve found Aldi day and night face creams and Superdrug body lotions to be just as good as designer brand alternatives.  And most importantly they are a fraction of the price.

And today I’m off to have my hair cut with a local mobile hairdresser instead of visiting my regular Lisa Shepherd salon.  This will save me about £80.  And as the hairdresser concerned comes with experience of working at Lisa Shepherd and Umberto Giannini salons, and with the all-important recommendation from a friend, I don’t even feel like I’m particularly making a sacrifice.

For once I can see me initiating a budget discussion with Mr J as I may just make him proud!

LJ

I am completely addicted. I love the clothes, the characters, the plots and intrigues. Everything. Yet it’s based on high school tears and traumas in the affluent Upper East Side; not exactly a great cultural reference to boast about at a dinner party or in the lift at work. Surely I should be bored of these storylines in my mature late 20’s. I saw 90210 (the first time around!), Saved By the Bell was my school holiday staple and the OC covered the years where I yearned for my student days to return. Surely my fascination with US teen pretention should have passed by now.

But still, iron in hand, I found myself engrossed and (I’m embarrassed to admit) even shedding a few tears over the tragic tug of love between the grief-stricken (but fabulously dressed) Chuck and spoilt socialite Blair Waldorf. I admit I’m a romantic at heart but crying at Gossip Girl, really. Is this really suitable behaviour for a woman approaching 30?

Whatever anyone thinks, I have resolved not to give up. It’s my guilty pleasure and I’ll carry on indulging as long as I see fit. We are all allowed our embarrassing weaknesses and escapist pleasures. For me these shows still capture my imagination and provide great escapism TV. I love that they are so out of touch with my reality and deliver a multitude of outfit combinations and fashion faux pas to point out and envy during the one hour shows. Given the choice of the glitz and designer fashion of Gossip Girl or the “gritty” realities and high street wear displayed in the British attempts – Hollyoaks and Skins – there really is no competition for me.

However, despite this bravado, I still feel I need to add that I have also watched a few age appropriate documentaries recently. And I love the new cult classic – The Wire. I also watch 24 and have absolutely no interest in Coronation Street or Emmerdale. Surely this relinquishes some of the shame of my weekly indulgence in teen trash.

Doesn’t it?

LJ