Mitchell's Mustard Blog

March 4, 2017

Thermometer face

Filed under: My Work — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 1:42 pm

With Captain being a little poorly we had arranged his first ever visit to the vets, The idea of getting this brut into the carrier case made me nervous. So much so, I sat in the garden and smoked two cigarettes planning the execution of such task. He’s very much a mummy’s boy and with Mallory being at work this was down to me. I sold it to him as ‘the adventure of the two furry boys’ in which he just stared at me wondering why I wasn’t stroking his belly. I picked him up, the moment he clocked that we were heading closer to the carrier case all shit broke loose. Half his body was in, I was pushing against his backend to give him no room to escape. He knew he wasn’t going to win this fight but he also wasn’t going down without swinging. Once he was in, I placed him on the table. BB circled him, flitting her tail and tapping away on the table with her twinkle toes. She was either assessing the situation for a quick impromptu escape route or she was teasing him like a sibling would. All the food, cuddles, and toys are now hers. My money’s on the latter. As I left the house I was carrying the case in my arms instead of by the handle hoping that this would calm him, after a few minutes of clinging on claw deep into my wrist he finally calmed down and accepted his journey. When we had arrived at the vets waiting room he had buried himself in his blanket, only his little furry face was visible, his big scared kitten eyes darting from one corner of the room to the other watching all the other animals awaiting their fate. When his eyes met mine I could read his expression ‘Beardy, I don’t like you right now.’ After ignoring another of my reassuring pep talks we were called into the vet’s office. The vet enticed him out of the carrier case and cuddled him for a couple of moments, her pep talks seem to work better than mine. Placing him on a table she weighed him, listened to his heart, all the usual check up itinerary ticked off. There was just one thing left to do, I bent down to hold his eye contact and held his shoulders as instructed. His loving eyes staring into mine as he had finally forgiven me and realised there was nothing to fear. She then took his temperature. His smile disappeared, his eyes widened, a look of panic and confusion splashed across his face. ‘What? . . What are you doing? . . But why?’ All of his pride had just fallen off the table and rolled out of the room. ‘Beardy, I want to go home, now!’ His facial expression could not be mistaken. I didn’t even have an issue getting him back in the carrier case. By the time we made it home he’d had enough, he took his treat, swore at me in his language and slinked off to sleep for a couple of hours.


September 1, 2015

I’m in my 30’s, if I’m not happy with who I am now, I never will be.

Filed under: Just a Thought — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 3:03 pm

‘I’m in my 30’s, if I’m not happy with who I am now, I never will be’ . . If you know me well, then there’s a high chance that you’ve heard these words come out of my mouth. I’ve always been a little different, a little bohemian. I get that from my father. It’s taken years for me to place it, an extrovert in my appearance, but introvert in new surroundings. In my 20’s, to be different, was to be judged. Especially when it comes to appearance. Growing up, I wanted to blend into the shadows, the faceless, in fear of being picked and pulled apart by those who seemed to preside. I’m not sure whether it’s now more acceptable to be yourself, which unfortunately I don’t think is true, or I’ve just grown to not care what others think. I remember a time when my confidence was lower than my heels, I’d be in a social gathering, surrounded by the local who’s who, generally an uncomfortable environment for me to be involved. I would hear someone laugh behind me and automatically think that they were talking and joking at my expense, I’d become anxious, reserved, and find that I would excuse myself from the rest of the evening. It wasn’t long after that that I’d excuse myself from the whole experience all together. The older I got, my confidence grew, to become who I wanted to be. I realised that if people wanted to have a negative opinion about me being comfortable in my own look, then . . I’d be comfortable and they can have their opinion, but that’s all it is, an opinion. I laugh it off now, ignore the comments, because negativity breeds on negativity.
Yes . . You might think I have a shit beard. Yes . . You might think I look stupid wearing skinny jeans tucked into boots. And yes . . You might think that I’m a blazer wearing wanker. But, I’m really not that bothered what you think. Full points on calling it a blazer and not a jacket though, well done.

One thing you can’t stop is that people around you will always have an opinion, and some will like to voice it. The one thing you can stop is giving a fuck what they think, you are who you are, be proud of that.

July 1, 2015


Filed under: A Little Something — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 7:58 pm

Pale, the curving contours causing shadows and dull patches. Coloured spheres darting back and forth with a similar rhythm to a pendulum on an old washed out piano. A surface that has seen many elements, masked, but only a prevention from age, there’s no cure as the time passes away. Weathered, yet attractive. Like pebbles skimmed across the surface, leaving ripples and wrinkles of life, but unlike water, the wrinkles become more apparent with no signs of fading or drifting away. With each cycle of the sun, the lines hold firm and claim their place. Each passing he notices something different, a soft façade capable of love and emotion, but sometimes riddled with exhaustion and anguish. Depending on his frame of mind he sees beauty, positivity bringing on the attractive glow. Knowing that negativity will only swallow up the good and drag the insecurities to the surface, only for him to see but is believed all will bear witness. A state of vanity that’s stoked like coals in a raging fire, he knows that growing old gracefully is the only option. Most days he knows what he sees, but on the odd occasion he doesn’t recognise what’s before him, what looks back at him each and every day. He knows it better than most, the shape, the strengths, the weaknesses, but there are days, days that just leave him to question. Today isn’t one of those days, he might be looking older, worn, weathered, with dashes of silver, but that is what’s looking back at him. The mirror doesn’t lie, but the mind does.

February 10, 2012

I am never going to be perfect

Filed under: A Little Something — Tags: , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 7:51 pm

I am never going to be perfect

I take my socks off at night because I like the feel of carpet on my feet,

I brush my hand through my hair to keep it from going in my eyes,

I twist the ring on my finger because I feel nervous,

I listen to heavy rock music but I’m not angry at my dad,

I don’t drink a lot of alcohol because once I start I won’t stop,

I don’t smoke because I’m going through a fitness phase,

I moisturise because I want to look after my skin,

I smile at women in the street because I like to see them smile back,

I pull the collar up on my coat as my scarf doesn’t quite do the job,

I don’t wet shave so I don’t look 10 years younger,

I listen to my iPod when I walk because I like music not because I’m anti social,

I don’t find myself attracted to blonde women as much as I do brunette,

I have lied to get myself out of trouble but who hasn’t,

I read as I find it more entertaining than television,

I don’t eat breakfast even though it’s the most important meal of the day or so they say,

I want to give everyone advice but I can’t take my own,

I spend more time worrying than I do achieving,

I enjoy catching up with old friends but I dislike talking about what I’ve been up to,

I give money to charity every month but it never feels like enough,

I get angry but I haven’t got a violent bone in my body,

I read people before I interact,

I blush if you put me on the spot,

I don’t care what anyone things of me 50% of the time,

I think arguments are healthy but petty arguments annoying,

I refuse to open up to just anyone,

I think I’m fair but I know I’m stubborn,

I like tomatoes but not keen on tomato sauce,

I am not stupid but I talk a lot of shit,

I will never give up pushing you if I believe in you,

I will always believe there is good in everyone until proven different,

I like to feel scared as it makes me feel alive,

I will only ever be perfect in my parents eyes,

I am only human.

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