Friday, 30 April 2010
He's spent the whole afternoon caressing its casing, exploring settings, getting to know it better. He ooohs and aaahs at its clever tricks. He has been excitedly sending pictures of his new lady to his friends. He takes her everywhere with him, photographing brand logos which she summons on the Internet while he laughs at her wit and intelligence.
Its been a long time since he treated me like that.
I waited until he went in the shower and then hid her under a pillow.
Thursday, 29 April 2010
I checked out the wound after the surgery and it looks a bit unpleasant, but nothing too horrible.
i have to do this every time they do something to me now as soon as I'm allowed to so that I know what to expect.
After my accident, because I didn't actually see the wounds for three months- dressings were changed under general anaesthetic- I didn't know what it would look like. I was very very young at the time, so I assumed that my crushed limb was going to look normal after the bone reconstruction, metal work and skin grafting. I thought at worst I might have a bit of a pirate scar. So when they took the dressings off to let me see it was a bit of a shock to say the least...
Now I always like to check what's been done to me after surgery.
Tuesday, 27 April 2010
... if I take my antibiotic at a similar time to my probiotic vitamin, what happens? Anything? Does it become a mere biotic?
And can humble biotics exist without explicitly stating their allegiance anymore? They have to act as guerrillas to prevent themselves being massacred by the pro and anti crew... no wonder they're going all superbug. There's a war on....
Either way I've been skipping my vitamin pills while the antibiotics are in my system.
I was very excited when I got home today (call me a geek, many have before you) because my shiny new notebook had arrived. At least I will look and feel like the kiddy when I'm making my lists of tasks now. Wuthering Heights is my absolute favourite book.
Sunday, 25 April 2010
I didn't send this but am beginning to wish I had.
Thank you for your recent friend request on facebook, unfortunately I am going to have to decline your request at this present moment in time.
I would like to clarify this is not because of your profile picture which shows you drunkenly exposing your buttocks on the roof of a car while your baby is at home (with who? I seem to remember you making the fact that you did not know the father's identity public knowledge). Nor is it solely because of your political views, though I must admit that this was a contributing factor- I cannot in good conscience consider a member of the BNP a friend.
I feel it is important that you know this, as you have mentioned in your info that you do not like "stuck up girls who think they are better than you". While your lifestyle choices wouldn't work for me, I can accept they are your choices to make, for better or worse.
The main reason I have rejected your friend request is that I do not recall a point when our relationship constituted a friendship. I have declined your friend request three times now, and I am hoping that this fourth rejection will jog your memory.
Don't you remember the five years of secondary school you spent bullying me? Because I was academically able I was a swot? Because I had ambitions I was a stuck up bitch? Because I took an active role in school life and was a member of various clubs and thus was awarded opportunities because of my hard work I was, in your opinion, given preferential treatment.
Maybe the (daily) emotional attacks have slipped your mind. Maybe the pushing, pinching, tripping, slapping etc. have too. They haven't escaped mine. Don't get me wrong, I've moved on in my life. Nothing that you did or said managed to hold me back in the end, but I'm not going to accept you as a friend so that you can snoop at my life now and think everything is forgiven and forgotten.
You have never apologised, and actually it's not ok.
Saturday, 24 April 2010
I think myself and the boyfriend defy the normal gender stereotypes of men being wash and go and women taking forever to get ready.
I am very much wash and go. I don't wear make up unless I'm going out in the evening, I'm lucky to have good skin so don't need it to conceal anything. I just wash, moisturise, dry my hair and I'm away. I keep a brush in my handbag and a lip balm. I wouldn't be especially bothered if people saw me when I'd just woken up.
The boyfriend on the other hand is obsessed with getting his hair just right. To the extent that he reads reviews of hair products and buys them online. He will then couple this with hairspray- I never use this product he has bought it for himself.
He does tend to like to use my things though. He will use all my shampoo and conditioner (even though his hair is very short) and can often be found using my hair dryer. He doesn't use hair straighteners or fake tan or anything. He spends ages shaving every morning even though I can't even see what he is shaving off to begin with.
He has sworn me to secrecy on this but on occasions he has asked me to use make up to cover spots for nights out....lucky this blog is anonymous or he would not be happy with me.
And why am I complaining about this now? I was ready over an hour ago (even though he went in the shower before me) and I am still waiting for him to get ready so that we can go out....
Wednesday, 21 April 2010
One of the senior managers (you know, paid lots to sit in a room and come up with "new" policies which had always existed but were previously known under the alias common sense) gave an amazing assembly the other day. It was all about how there would be a zero tolerance of unruly behaviour and rudeness. That respect was the way forward. You would adhere to the rules for conduct or you could find another school.
The students were shocked and awed. I was a little bit in love. After all the times we've been let down before I actually believed that this person was there to change things.
Hmmm. Then today, a student "verbally assaulted" (school speak for hurled a vile torrent of abuse and threats) at me before being physically confrontational. What has been done about it? Nothing. The same senior manager will ask another member of staff about it later but didn't have time to listen to me.
This is the problem, the students will see through the bravado as soon as you fail to back it up. Sound and fury signifying NOTHING.
Tuesday, 20 April 2010
Monday, 19 April 2010
I returned to work today. Tired and groggy, it took me quite a while to wash the fine layer of volcanic ash which has adhered to my car and makes the metal feel gritty. The ash further affected the school day when a few members of staff failed to make it in as they were stranded around the globe. Pupils were missing too; America, mainland Europe and Australia seemed to be popular destinations.
Some schools in the area were closed due to staff shortages. There seems to have been a mass exodus of teachers from the UK as soon as Easter break started. I'm obviously very jealous. Those who made it back were full of tales about trips to Italy and the South of France. So unfair.
The only travel that doesn't seem to be disrupted by the ash is the ring road on the way home. Traffic was as congested as per usual. Would have been nice to have had a nap while waiting in line.
Thursday, 15 April 2010
Do bar headed geese migrate? Will the duck be allowed to go with him if they do? It's all very well to fall in love with someone from another species while at the Wildfowl Park, but can the relationship survive in the real world? I hope all the compromises aren't made by the duck.
Wednesday, 14 April 2010
It saddens me to say it, but my partner and I are incompatible... in literary tastes at least. I am a voracious reader and will tuck into almost anything. He can read, but will not.
This is especially annoying when I read a book like David Benioff's City of Thieves. It has had me riveted for hours. The most fascinating bit for me (aside from great plot and writing) is the hint that it is very heavily based on his grandfather's experiences during the siege of Leningrad. It has really left me wanting to know just how true it is.... cue an evening spent google stalking.
Seriously, read it for me, because I'm not sure my boyfriend will. Though I have told him I will read it to him while he is trying to sleep if he doesn't pick it up himself. Look here for an interview with the writer.
I'm not very fashionable. I can scrub up well, but jeans and t-shirts are my usual attire. I will occasionally pull a brush through my hair. That's just me. I've never been interested in playing with Barbie dolls, not because of any feminist issue (though I can certainly see an argument for that) but because... well, I couldn't really see the point. What do they do?
You can imagine my surprise then when an advert for this turned up in my inbox. ASOS, one of my favourite clothes websites because it involves me not having to try clothes on in a hot crowded changing room is selling Barbie dolls in LBDs which you can style...
I don't get why an adult would want to do this. I really don't. I saw an exhibit of Barbie dolls in a toy museum once and that was really interesting because you got to see how Barbie had changed through the years, and in a way it was a record of social histroy. Originally she was based on a prosititute in a German comic, and then she became this iconic toy for small girls. Now that's interesting.
I guess what disturbed me most, because I was a little disturbed by the advert, was that ASOS are actually running this feature with shopping options, not just for the dolls, but so that you can dress yourself as LBD Barbie. Seriously. You can buy Paul Smith "Barbie" bags for £65, with the Barbie logo on. That would almost cover my car insurance for a month. Who would spent that on a bag to make them look like a child's toy? I don't get it!!!
I've just paid £85 car tax, £135 council tax and have to go now and pay the gas bill. Don't you just love quarterly billing? And I've had to set up a payment schedule for water because they sent us the bill for the year to come instead of the monthly bills.
I need to become a pop star, not a teacher, then someone would do this for me.
Tuesday, 13 April 2010
I would like this, but I guess I would get disappointed everytime as I would think that it was for me. Hmmm.
I had to give up buying it at twenty because the use of words like "sexpert" and "sexperiment" had become so prolific they made me want to take a sex toy and stab the said sexperts in the head with it. And now I find these words creeping into magazines I actually like to read.
So for the uninitiated, here is an explanation of what the cover says to sell, because, if you're going to take their opinions as law, you might as well listen to mine.
- The Sex Article We Can't Describe Here! Because it is so bad it defies description in any language known to planet Earth. And if we did try, you'd realise it was the same one we've been publishing for the past few years with the wording rejigged. Dress up, do it else where, talking dirty... oh shove off!
- Easy, Fun ways to fall in love with your man! Put down the magazine, pick up your self respect. Try and recapture your sense of self that has been brainwashed by this bullshit for months and maybe then you can have some fun together. OR don't try and force yourself to fall in love with someone it's not working with.
- 50 Things to Do Butt Naked! Yes, people pay us to write this putrid drivel. Seriously, who cares? And who, if by some freak chance they cared couldn't think these up themself?
- Killer Confidence! Make Everyone Wish They Were You! Now this I like the idea of. Cosmopolitan journalist comes out as a psychopath and holds the spoilt-brat "fashionista" office bullies at gun point to make them repent, before killing them and publishing her memoirs in a blood spattered edition of Cosmo. Doubt that's what it's about though...
- Lady Gaga's love advice... Get wasted, dress like a sex addicit who has escaped from an asylum and go around asking strangers on the tube if you can take a ride on their disco stick. I don't know about love, but you might get laid...
- Speak His Sex Language Maybe it's just me, but I don't really really really go in for this men and women speak a different language thing. Maybe I have a masculine brain. Who knows? Maybe you should just stop over thinking what he might mean it and have a conversation with the person you are sharing a bed/bodily fluids with. Just maybe. Saves a lot of hassle.
- Weird Reasons You're So Freakin' Tired- You took Gaga's love advice and spent the evening having an orgy on the tube, working really hard to use the advice from the sex article which defied descripton at the same time as trying to decode what all those flailing phalluses were trying to convey. You had to find a covert way of assembling your terrorist gear recommended in the killer confidence article while butt naked, and now you have to worry about date rapists? No wonder you dropped the g on freaking, which, let's face it was a substandard adjective at the best of times.
- Date rape- now we've told them that they should go out and wave their dildo in the air to find love, let's scare them back to the kitchen sink with some serious journalism so that they aren't having too much fun to buy next months two hundred pages of junk in the hope that we can emancipate them...
Monday, 12 April 2010
I posted a comment, but it is "awaiting moderation" so I will include a cut and paste here in case censorship is another of this buffoons passions. As follows...
Just says: Your comment is awaiting moderation.Not eloquent or anything but it really annoyed me. I love MC Lars, I think the guy is a genius. Check him out on facebook or myspace. Even if you don't love the great MC, you have to admit it is moronic to hold him up as a poster boy for something he doesn't represent.
Wow. An impressive article…. is this what constitues journalism these days? You look at a poster, see a young man with a laptop and instantly force him to fit the mould of a stereotype you hate. Have you ever listened to his music?
I’m not a big rap fan. But I’ve seen MC Lars live and listen to his music and the guy is talented, challenging and original. First rap that I’ve heard that references classic literature, disses crunk and speaks out against the capitalism of record companies killing music by not promoting fresh talent. He mocks the stereotypes that you claim to hate, but you judge by the poster. Yeah, this is what society has become..style about substance, what does it look like before what it sounds like- and you a music critic? You are part of the cause, not the solution and I think that you fundementally miss the point.
You rant, rant, rant…. nothing is challenging, innovative… some bigoted slur about lesbians. What’s so different or interesting about you? Do you attack in others what you see as a flaw in yourself?
Almost as idiotic as branding himself the voice of the spirit of the age... while living in the 80s.
... I considered posting a picture and another link to the Zeitgeist dick but decided not to pollute my blog with his out-of-touch, creepy middle aged misogynist shit.
Sunday, 11 April 2010
1. What time did you get up this morning? ~ I didn't. I'm on holiday, meant to hit snooze, missed and woke up in the afternoon.
2. How do you like your steak? ~ medium rare with a tasty sauce.
3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? ~ Kick Ass
4. What is your favorite TV show? ~ True Blood, natural successor to Buffy.
5. If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be? ~ I don't know. I don't know what I want in life.
6. What did you have for breakfast? I skipped it cos I woke so late.
7. What is your favorite cuisine? Italian.
8. What foods do you dislike? ~ onion
9. Favorite Place to Eat? ~ Somewhere informal but quirky.
10. Favorite dressing? ~ oil and vinegar
11.What kind of vehicle do you drive? ~ an uncool one
12. What are your favorite clothes? ~ casual jeans, a pretty top...
13. Where would you visit if you had the chance? ~The world, the outer reaches of the universe, the past, the present... the landscapes of my dreams.
14. Cup 1/2 empty or 1/2 full? ~ Just half
15. Where would you want to retire? ~ Childhood.
16. Favourite time of day? ~ Evening
17. Where were you born? ~ A hospital in a small town.
18. What is your favorite sport to watch? ~ Dance
19. Who do you think will not tag you back? ~ Not relevant
20. Person you expect to tag you back first? ~ Not relevant
21. Who are you most curious about their responses to this? ~ N/R
22. Bird watcher? ~ Sometimes...
23. Are you a day person or a night person? ~ Night
24. Pets? ~ Are wonderful but a big responsibility. They tie you down.
25. Any new and exciting news that you'd like to share? ~ No, its all old and terrifying.
26. What did you want to be when you were little? ~ Judy Garland
27. What is your best childhood memory? ~ Summer days as a teenager with my friends... memory is selective. The highlights blur like a slideshow.
28. Are you a cat or dog person? ~ Dog.
29. Are you married? ~ No. I don't know if I will.
30. Always wear your seat belt? ~ Yes, I'm not an idiot with a deathwish.
31. Been in a car accident? ~ two, one very bad.
32. Any pet peeves? ~ Many.
33. Favorite pizza topping? ~ Farmhouse
34. Favorite Flower? ~ cherry blossom today
35. Favorite ice cream? ~ mini milk lollipops
36. Favorite fast food restaurant? ~Pizza Express
37. How many times did you fail your driver's test? ~ two
38. From whom did you get your last email? ~ A catalogue confirming my order
39. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card? ~ I wouldn't max out my card.
40. Do anything spontaneous lately? ~ No. I should. But you can't plan spontaneous acts...
41. Like your job? ~ Yeah... for now.
42. Broccoli? ~ Tasty
43. What was your favorite vacation? ~ Italy
44. Last person you went out to dinner with? ~ Uni friends
45. What are you listening to right now? ~ breathing
46. What is your favorite color? ~ white... a blurry spectrum.
47. How many tattoos do you have? ~ none, I don't like them very much but I'm almost considering getting one. Delayed teen rebellion.
48. How many are you tagging for this quiz? No one
49. Winter, autumn, summer or spring? Summer
50. Coffee Drinker? ~ No.
Saturday, 10 April 2010
"Oh but we never got the chance
'Cause the players tried to take the field
The marching band refused to yield
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died?"
We did though. Get the chance I guess. Or I did. During our first year at Universities at different sides of the country, me studying Literature and him studying... why don't I remember? A subject which didn't suit him and he didn't stick it out beyond the first year so it's slipping from my memory.
I went to a different university to my boyfriend, and with a good group of girlfriends I gained a lot of confidence back that I'd lost and was really enjoying myself. My boyfriend- not a horrible guy, just very misguided- didn't like this. He was quite controlling. I thought he was a real bastard for a while, but now I guess he was just young and insecure. Anyway, while at university, I found out that he had been cheating on me, for the three years we were together. With a lot of different girls. We had a slow and messy break up.
Meanwhile he and his girlfriend who had gone to university together, so in love were they while filling in the UCAS form, had broken up. He wasn't what she needed and things got really hard for him. I don't know too many details, just bits. This is my side of the story really, I can't speak for anyone else. Though I often try to...
So the summer after my first year at University found him single, and me somewhat single though the situation with my ex was very confusing. I'd had a brief rebound fling and University and though I was finding my feet I still wasn't... 100% myself.
We realised that we'd drifted apart, and spent a lot of time catching up. Going for long walks and talking like we always had. But this time the safety net was taken away I guess. Nothing stopping us now from what by this point had been building up for four years. Lying in a field one day, all sun kissed and ditzy prints he kissed me. And it somehow managed to live up to expectations. Which is impressive, given the four year build up.
But I guess the cracks were there. I wasn't as sniping or sarcastic as before. A year away from home had allowed me to balance out some of my issues. The heartbreak and confusion of his girlfriend had made him more needy and vulnerable. Perhaps we'd grown up at different speeds or in different directions.
The rest of that summer was crazy, last second rail trips to meet the shiny new friends from university. Drunken weekends with old friends. Emotional tug of war with my ex. I ended up forgetting his birthday, not responding correctly when he text me. Fooling myself that it had been a kiss and nothing else. When to me it was more. To him? I think it was more. He didn't answer my calls. Replying to my emails, my messages...
He did get back in touch in the end. In my second year of University he came to visit a friend who studied at the same institution. Could he come and catch up with me? We missed one another. Had fate presented another chance to be seized?
No. I'd met someone else by then. I was in love. Well and truly, like I never had been with him. And the new man loved me back. And it was exhilarating and wonderful. My allegiances- he seemed to want me to make them clear- were with my boyfriend. So no, he couldn't stay the night. No we couldn't cuddle on my bed. It didn't seem right. We had to go back to being friends. More strange lies from him, more sarcasm and cattiness from me.
And then nothing for years. We bumped into one another now and again. Mutual friends, small world. Smiles and do you remembers. But the intensity had gone for me. I can't speak for him.
People grow up, life goes on. I've been with the new boyfriend for nearly five years now. I still wonder why he didn't kiss me when we were sixteen. Save a lot of- what? Hassle? No. Heartbreak, maybe. Would it have though? We still would have grown up and apart. I would always want to have met the boyfriend at university. I wouldn't change that. Maybe I want a defined end so it can be neatly filed away, but life isn't like that.
The letters are gone. The memories fade. For some reason that what-if remains.
I climbed up into our attic today to look for the letters that he sent me, but I guess that they've gotten lost in the house moves that I've had since school via university to now. Or maybe I threw them away in an attempt to convince myself that I was as mentally faithful as possible to my ex-boyfriend. Too young to realise that keeping old letters isn't a problem in a secure relationship. Too young too stupid. I wish I still had them.
My email account has a folder for "Important Emails". Bills and the like. Very sensible, but are they really what's important in the long run? Probably not. But memory is transient and not something that you can hold in a letter. That just makes it easier.
So I'm down from the attic, choked with dust, covered in traces of the past and itchy fibre glass with no letters for my trouble. My father asked me (I had to borrow a torch, the light bulb had blown) "Did you find what you were looking for?" I don't know. I didn't find the letters. Have I found what I've been looking for since? Does anyone?
Friday, 9 April 2010
When I was sixteen I fell in love with my best friend. He was cute, funny and made me smile. He liked me back, and we would send each other old fashioned letters of funny thoughts. He once sent me an email about how much he liked me in rainbow colours with the lyrics of American Pie interspersed with what he was saying. Just to tell me. I don't know if it was like Andrew Lincoln's character in "Love, Actually" (without hope or agenda) but we made each other happy and that seemed to be enough.
He was emotionally unstable, vulnerable... a classic man-child crying out to girls with a need to protect and heal. He was beautiful, serious and playful. His ex had cheated on him. You wouldn't do that right? I was sniping, sarcastic, unsure of my place in the world. Using cynicism to disguise low self esteem. He told me his guy friend had told him to "join the queue, we saw her first". He told bizarre lies to impress... little things. I made spiteful comments to keep people at arms length... challenging. We balanced each other out. The perfect match.
Nothing happened, because I had a boyfriend. And because I was sixteen and hopelessly naive. And besotted. And cheating is a bad thing to do. And you can't break up with a guy for someone who makes you smile because, you know, that might hurt his feelings. And it would mean I was little better than his ex, right?
We almost kissed once. Sat on a bench built into a dry stone wall on a hot, dusty summer's day talking, he put his arms around me and our faces were so close. So very close. Too close to look into each other's eyes. One millimeter more and...
...And we never did. Because he was lovely and wouldn't kiss another boy's girlfriend without her making the move. I was sweet and naive and a good girl, such a good girl. It would be wrong.
Life went on. After a series of casual girlfriends. he met a girl at college and fell in love with her. My boyfriend, older, went to university and still stupidly besotted I got a job to have money to go and visit him every fortnight. We kept in touch on MSN on the rare occasions we were both on but the phone calls dried up, no more platonic letters which poured out our souls. We grew up and moved on.
Wednesday, 7 April 2010
Fortune would have it that I have an ally in my stealth war on technology who was able to get me reestablished fairly rapidly, but in the downtime I decided to start my blogging career anew.
So here I am, a would-be-wordsmith. Bonjour a bienvenue to my renewed, restored, refreshed blog. Never knowingly au courrant, I will be taking a sideways glance at anything that catches my eye. This is my Wonderland.