2009 compared to 2010-I hope!

Christmas eve and all through the house not a creature was stirring-not even a mouse.

Erm, that doesn't sound like my family home. It wasn't chaos but myself and my Brother were always soooo excited-it's a cliche but Christmas eve is the most difficult night to sleep for any child. This Christmas I'm an adult-no where near childhood and I'll never get up early all excited to bundle down to the living room to find the door handle missing and no way of getting in. It is the time of year when everyone expects socks and bad jumpers and blogs are full of 'new year questionnaires' so I'm going to do one that I stole from someone else's blog-Jodi's "It's the life" it looks good, I might read it but I have a feeling that she's American and I don't know if I can handle all the unnecessary Zs.

Anyway, here goes:

1. What did you do this year that you've never done before?
I went camping and walking on the Pembrokeshire coastal path <3 Agreed to a proposal that I intend to see through. Looked at houses with the intention of buying one. Moved into my own flat. I think I grew up a lot this year.

2. Did you keep your New Year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I can't remember if I made any, probably to give up smoking. I'll make the same one this year. And break it by the 4th Jan


3. Any new births this year? Noah and Tommy


4. Did anyone close to you die? My Grandad, July we were all there and we'll really miss him this year.

5. What countries did you visit this year? Does Wales count? it was like going abroad. When we went in May it was like the Great Ocean Road in Victoria, Australia. When we went in Sept. it was like, well Wales really. When we went in Nov. it was like India during a monsoon

6. What would you like to have in the next year that you lacked this year? A wonderful Boyfriend-sorry, fiancee and somewhere nice to live-hang on, I've got that!! I'd really like a stable job. I'm soooo fucked off with temping.


7. What date from this year will remain etched upon your memory - and why? 2nd September 2009 my Dalek proposed


8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Getting a nice place to live, mind you the achievement part there should go to my Dad, he did all the hard work. Not wanting to make this all about the proposal but I did decide on who I'm spending my life with.


9. What was your biggest failure of the year? Being turned down for a job that a monkey could do because I didn't demonstrate my abilities in the interview-Showed a bit too much ambition for my supervisors liking.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? No biggies, nothing I remember anyway.

11. What was the best thing you bought this year? My posh cup for loose tea and the book shelves in my living room.

12. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? My own, when I'm drunk I'm a liability.

13. Whose behavior merited celebration (a public or private personality)? My brother has made me proud this year.

14. Where did most of your money go this year? Biggest expense is rent, biggest extravagance is either weed or posh tea-it's definitely botanical.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about this year? My engagement! It seems to have put a real stamp on 2009.


17. What song will always remind you of this year? Killing in the name of is the Christmas number one!!!

18. Compared to this time last year, are you:- happier or sadder? Happier, I think I don't really like Christmas- richer or poorer? about even, I've got a job that pays less but I have a flat that costs less. Oh, probably going to be poorer this year I had to give up my pub job :(- thinner or fatter? I've been the same weight since I was about 18

19. What do you wish you'd done more of? Travelling and spending quality time with my loved ones-specifically my brother.

20. What do you wish you'd done less of? Worrying, fretting and hating. Plotting, scheming and wishing things where different.

21. How did you spend the holidays?- I don't really get summer holidays, but most of the holiday time I did take was spent in Wales.

22. Did you fall in love this year? Yes and no. I fall in a bit more love with the same man everyday but he's the same one I've been in love with for two & a half years now.

23. How many one-night stands did you have this year? See above. Of course I haven't!

24. What was your favorite TV program for the year? Merlin!!! Love that show. Gavin and Stacey-Tidy. I love anything by David Attenborough so 'Life' has been brilliant.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year? No, it's the same bunch of cunts I hate every year. I don't like my supervisor because she didn't give me a job that's beneath me, but hate would be taking that a bit too far.

26. What was the best book you read this year? I read 'brave New World' again but that's a given. 'Island' also by Aldous Huxley was brilliant.

27. What was your favorite film of the year? I don't really watch films, I saw 'The Green Mile' again and enjoyed it. Slum dog millionaire was good. Not really a film buff.

28. How would you describe your personal fashion concept this year? Office. or skinny jeans and funky tee shirts, particularly Stabby McKnife.

29. Whom did you miss this year? I miss my Grandpa quite a lot. I've missed Matthew before he went psycho. I'll miss Jade 'til the day I die.

30. Who was the best new person you met this year?- I met the Mayor a few times but he's not the best person I've met. I don't think I've met any body that I intend to keep in touch with. Tom Top and Father were nice in that pub in Llanelli.

This is a little out of date now, but it seems such a shame to just delete it so I'll post it here:

I live in a pokey bedsit in the east end of London, it has mice, damp and numerous drafts but for the time being it's home. This is my blog so I can spout off about things that annoy me and generally keep a record of what's keeping me busy/sane. I'll probably shove some creative writing in at some point-but I wouldn't read it if I were you, it's probably rubbish. I don't know if I'm brave enough to put the whole truth of what runs through my head on here, I don't think I could confrunt it with out running insanely away arms and legs flailing. Feel free to do what you want, it's no good saying 'don't do that' because you will have to do it to see.

Now I have to write a new one...

(not my) New Job

Cunts

fuck it, that'll do

As I was walking to work this morning I notice the man in front of me, he was squat and barrel shaped and walked by swinging his arms outward and to a lesser extent his legs, he looked like a large bipedal lizard. As I was thinking this a small woman in a fawn coloured woolly had sped past like a deer running through the open. I think i might be watching too much David Attenborough as I seem to have turned my walk to work into a surreal safari!

Work was a little strange as I started in a new department today, the guy who's training me is really nice and open about never having trained anyone before and said if I think I need anything different just to say and we'd work it out. I said not to worry as I've had tonnes of training and I'm not shy so I will let him know if I'm not clear, but that it wouldn't actually show until I started doing stuff rather than watching other people do it. Part of the job is to go around the building checking for faults, I am so glad that I wore flat shoes and not the killer heels that make me feel great psychologically but cripple me physically. More about the new job when I know a bit more about it, my mind's still a bit shell shocked with everything I've learnt today.

I'd love to give you a thought provoking and structured entry, but as I've mentioned, we've found somewhere new to live so I've spent most of tonight having a bit of a clothes cull, a major sort out so that I can at least see what I've got, looking at books while Mark packed them up and painting my nails then peeling off the varnish-well I had to have a little bit of me time. So I simply haven't the time at the moment, sorry dolls.

I'll be back and sensible when life is a little calmer and, ironically, I have less to write about!

One sided relationships

It's OK, no don't run away, this is not a whinge about how 'I wish he loved me the way I do him' in fact, it's quite the opposite. I never noticed until recently how all relationships are one sided. There's one partner who dotes on the other, either in a sickening way where they permanently attach them self to the other or in the more subtle 'letting the other get away with absolute murder' because they couldn't imagine their life without them.

We've all seen the boyfriend that puts up with the repeat offender "I have given up smoking, at home, but we're in the pub now" or the boyfriend saying "I didn't mean to stay out all night, but Smithy's just had a baby boy and it all got a bit out of hand and my battery ran out but I didn't notice..."

And the partner either rolls their eyes and gets on with it or is a little frosty with the offender for a few hours/days then it's forgotten and life goes on. Every relationship I've had so far I've been on the smitten, doting side. Where I will get up early to make a special breakfast for him, or turn up at his wearing something to make his, ahem, eyes bulge, or plan surprise nights out that I know he'll go gaga for. This one's not like that-it was, well it would have been but the time I did go round dressed as a sexy Santa along with presents and everything was the morning after the night before and he'd been a naughty boy (half an hour or so earlier and, well, I'm trying not to think about that and it's not the point here anyway) the point is that I had to make a real effort not to put my partner back into the centre of my world. And do you know what? It's worked out just dandy, he brings me breakfast in bed-to the extent that he will go to the shops and buy stuff to bring home and cook for me, I am the recipient of beautiful hand made cards, I can 'give up' smoking every week and these are just things that I can think of off the top of my head. Why, oh why didn't I realise this before? This is the way it should be, I'm the centre of his world. He picks me up from work when I work late, which is the correct thing for a boyfriend to do, but not one of the rest of them would (maybe Matt, but he would have asked for petrol money).

I just don't understand why anyone would want to be on the other side of this partnership, yes it did give me a nice feeling doing things for the one I was showering with my adoration at the time but what does that mean to me now? What did I gain from it? Nicht. Nada. Sweet FA. That's what. Maybe it has something to do with getting older, I'm seeing the world in a more cynical light and, having been fucked over, I'm more guarded. I'm starting to ask 'what's in it for me' before I commit myself. As it turns out what's in it for me this time around is a sweet guy who is making up for a naive mistake due to lack of experience and setting a high standard of treatment. While I'm doing my best to learn forgiveness (Something that I don't generally do) I don't think I'll be particularly forthcoming if I ever do forgive. I don't think I want this to end!

Jabberwocky

If you want a bit of nonsense follow the white hare,

if it's common sense or google you could always try here

But I wouldn't, they're mad as arseholes and on the run.

Patta cake patta cake, run Voddy run

Notice, again...

Got back from Lunch today to be told that I'm finishing up next Friday.

I think I'll quote Captain Darling.

"Bugger."

There, now that's a bit better. Merry Christmas you fuckers.

stupid dupid

Good morning, the Mayor's public google service. What can I look up for you?

Well, erm. I wasn't after anything like that I've got google myself you see.

Would you like me to talk you through the use of a website that's got nothing to do with our office?

Agian, no. I'm not even on the net at the moment.

Would you like to rant about something that's gone wrong and inversly effected you?

Nope, everythings fine.

OK then, how about the numbers to escalate a complaint about another organisation that I have no control over or access to the detailed information that you actually want?

Jade, it's me-Matt. I just want to speak to Ali or Lucy and tell them that I wont be in today.

Oh, sorry mate, you not feeling too clever?

No, my cat died.

Fuck

Happy Monday

After a lot of tooing and froing about what we want to do this weekend, we compromised and spent Saturday lounging around then on to Chelmsford on Saturday night to get truly wasted with Dave and Jadey. Then spent Sunday lounging around again and watching a stupid amount of football. I think it worked out pretty even and plenty of Sailor Jerry's Rum!

I heard back from the job at the SEB last week, I didn't get it. My feedback was good the interviewer liked me, blah blah bollocky blah. She was concerned that some of the members are condescending and it might offend me, and that's why she decided to give it to someone else. Well she's right, it would have pissed me off if they were shitty to me, but she's pissed me off even more by giving me such a, frankly shit, reason for not giving e the job. Well fuck her, fuck the SEB and I really hope that the person she did go with finds a new job and buggers off after the initial 'getting to know the team' period that was so important to the precious organisation and they have to start all over again. Sorry, rant over. I just worked really hard on that one and spent £30 on a train ticket that I won't get back and had to take time off work to fill in the forms and get to the interview. Sorry, I did say rant over then launched back into it didn't I?

I'll move on, the next one is a position in the firm I'm currently with but it's a reception role. It would be good to have some stability in my employment, even if it's not an ideal role. I want to get a mortgage and the banks aren't keen on giving them to people that don't have a permanent job and a proper job here will give me good experience to get a job when we move to Swansea-did you know that 33% of people employed there are employed int he public sector? No, neither did I, but they are.

Wow, it looks to me like I'm really thinking ahead here. I'm accepting that I have to grow up and I'm planning for it. We've set a date too, it's 11/06/11 that gives us about 18 months to get everything sorted. We were trying to decide on a song for our first dance last night, but couldn't. I suggested 'songbird' by Oasis, Mark flatly refused. He suggested Simon & Garfunkel, I laughed. "What about 'Something'" says I-he countered with 'Oh Darling' I'm afraid I don't want a McCartney song. So Mark suggests 'Say Say Say' I know he's taking the piss so I tell him that I want 'November Rain'. In the end we settled for Agadoo-I hope he wasn't serious because if he was I think I'll just dump him.

Cold bright and steely eyed

I wish I'd had something to capture the way the sky looked this morning, on my right as I crossed Tower bridge the sky was a grey as steel, angry looking but clear-I could see all the way down to the BT tower. And on the left there was a continuation of the steely sky with a cut straight through it, complete across the skyline, showing brilliant blue and blazing sun. As it's October the sun won't be warm but seeing it breaking through and usurping the clouds is still nice. Looking towards the grey side had some hidden treasures too, the HMS Belfast was lit up as it it were in a west end musical, the sun shining off the glossy surfaces making it stand out and leaving me with an expectation that it was about to burst into song. There was a solitary swan swimming around the traitors gate, shining bright white in the virgin sun light, probably picking the bones of ancient victims of the Tower. OK, it probably wasn't but I wanted something grusome in this post, it's all going a bit too well.

On my way to work this morning

I saw a pooh-leece boat speeding down the river with it's siren blazing and wondered who they were warning of their presence? The only other boats moving was the clipper-trundling along in an elderly manner taking it's predictable route. The smaller police boat was screeching it's siren and weaving along. The other thing that came to mind was, who are they actually going after, is there a cormorant fishing without a license? They disappear under Tower Bridge and I carry on over it, just as I get to the south side gates I see a song thrush, dead on the ground in a fenced in part of the bridge. I know which bird it is instantly, it has text book markings so perfect that at first I thought it was a child's toy, a stuffed replica of the real thing. Well it was stuffed in a sense. It made me a little sad, but I carried on to work. I'm leaving early today to register with an agency that might find me a permanent job and to get anti baby pills from the doctor. They both need to be done, but I'm not fussed either way by them neither looking forward to nor dreading them, just a chore that I have to do.

I've just been told in the lift by the Mayor's PA that she would want a mountain of them, gesturing to my egg on toast, as there's practically nothing to it. I bet there's not even butter on that says she. well there is-lot of in fact. Because I'm slim people tend to think I don't eat-this is not the case, I eat and I eat well, I just use the energy that I get from the food I eat. I think that has something to do with having a full time day job and a part time night job. Either way, if I start getting fat I'll adjust the levels of intake and activity accordingly-this seems to be the bit about weight control that most people don't understand.

I was thinking some really profound stuff last night whilst I was smoking outside of the pub-I was a little stoned and tipsy so it probably wasn't that interesting to a sober mind and I knew at the time I'd never remember it today, but I thought wouldn't it be good if you could somehow record your thoughts as you think them then delete the ones you don't want to publish are correct the spellings on the word you've been slurring? I guess not really, blogspot would become an attic full of peoples old thoughts that they will never use again but didn't have the heart to discard-which it is, in a way, I suppose.
Skye told me once that I shouldn't hold on to the negative things-diary entries, text messages or anything that's broken my heart. But I can't help myself, I need to keep them for reference to try to learn from them, but I don't I just go over them again and again, opening emotional scars, picking the scab so it bleeds. I used to do that physically (I was emo when everyone else was grunge) but I can't do that any more, 13 years old and it's a cry for help 29 years old and it's a free trip to the funny farm. I wish I'd learnt alternative ways to deal with negative emotions at the time. Poor me, any suggestions?

I don't believe that any one's reading my blog and I can't work out the analytics page to see anything useful, so by show of hands (or indeed comments) I'll ask you that if you've read this please leave me a comment, even if its an emoticon just so that I can get the gist of it.

For now I'll do a token amount of work then get on with flat/job hunting-everything is about tho change so if you're already here, keep reading!

Time....

I had an interview last week for a job that I really want. It was on Tuesday so I took Monday off to prepare for it and Wednesday off to recover. I didn't go to the pub job all week and I only came in for the day job on Thursday and Friday, claiming some sort of stomach ailment.

This week I have, so far worked five days and three nights and I'm going to work tonight too and I don't feel nearly as tired as I did last week, weird huh?
I've been enjoying the pub job, apparently October is a notoriously slow month in the pub trade which means I get paid to just be there a lot of the time, and I get to try the nice new beers we get in and a trader discount on borough market. It's a win-win situation for me, I get paid to be out of the flat and I hate that flat. I spend my days looking at alternatives and the contract is coming to a close (hallelujah!) next month so we actually have to find a new one and what with this credit crunch (Gawd bless it) prices are at a reasonable level and we can afford somewhere decent without having to go for a dodgy sublet.

Anyway, the point of this post was to tell you why I'm not writing that much any more, I'm spending my time at my day job looking for flats/jobs and most of my evenings are spent working in the pub. The need to save. I want to do grown up things and it seems to do any of them I need to get money and lots of it. What I'm actually planning is a surprise so you'l have to wait and see. It wont be long and I wont be writing much in the mean time, but bear with me because this is going to be worth it!

This is what I want to do (for now)

Monday was a shit of a day. I was tired from the start and I got that email saying that I wasn't being asked to interview for the job that I'm presently temping in. And it's the first week where I'm working 3 nights in the pub (Monday, Wednesday and Friday) so I was 'on a double' as the boys say. Between jobs I got a phone call from Reed to tell me that I have got an interview for a position they had put me forward for on Friday. It's next Tuesday, it's in Southampton. OK, so I don't like to travel, but this is an admin position (which I can do) for a scientific company (my selected specialist subject) and they are shortly moving to Holborn, which will be easy for me to get to esp if I move where I'm hoping to move to. Well anyway I can't think of a nicer person to welcome them to London than a native with a smile, a flair for science and a go get 'em (bad) attitude? Well, we'll see how it goes.

I'm tired again today, I put aside last night for a snuggle up in front of a film and an early night. All the best laid plans and all that, Mark taught me how to play Magic the Gathering (it's a card game with life points etc.) It's addictive, I mean it. It's worse than crack. We played a few games, then "one more game," leading to "one more game," once more "last one then we should go to bed." By this time it's 1:20 and my brain was screaming at me to get some sleep. but I still tidied around the sink and smoked a joint before finally giving in to sleep. I don't feel too bad now, but tonight's going to hurt.

I've noticed wholesome hobbies sneaking up on me, there was a time when the best I could do was 'socialising' and 'travelling' now I can say I like outdoor pursuits and entomology and I can back them up with things I've actually done.

Sorry Gerald

As I've said in previous posts the flat that I live in has vermin. Cockroaches and mice. The council have been called and much to Marks disapproval we now have poison out for both and glue traps for the roaches. Mark expressed concern about the glue traps when they were put out that a mouse might get stuck on one, I thought he was being ridiculous, until one did. Last night he spotted it on the glue trap next to the washing machine. I don't know how long it had been there, but a fair while if the amount of pooh was anything to go by. So I took it out side into the court yard, not wanting to hurt it or stress it any more than necessary but needing to get it off of the glue pad. I've got a wooden spoon that I'm trying to get underneath the body of it but its fur is stuck fast and I just can't do it. Another approach, I try to get its foot off by scraping the glue from the pad. Mark has brought a bit of bread for it and it is dutifully eating it but also taking a bite out of the wooden spoon every now and then. The poor thing was probably terrified. My hand slipped and I crushed both its back feet. Shit, well there's nothing for it now I have to kill it. I sent Mark away because he's as soft as shit and look around for something that will do the deed quickly. There's a cooker dumped about 50 yards away, living in a real shit hole has at least this advantage. So I take the mouse along to it telling him that I'm really sorry, but I can't do anything else and I'm justifying to my self that it's probably been poisoned anyway, I open the oven door try to position it so that it will....be quick and slam the door. Open it up again, shit I got the bottom half. Move it up a bit and slam! that time I got it, it can only have been a matter of seconds but it kept me awake most of the night. I feel horrible. When I got back up stairs Mark was crying so that started me off. What a fucking pair!

Anyway, here is my tribute to the mouse that I killed. I didn't want to do it, but I had no choice (yeah, tell that to the jury!). I hope it has found a better place with lots of crumbs and a nice warm nest.

Goodbye Gerald, or Mabel, whichever you were, I hope you've found peace.

Darwin Awards

I don't usually use these internet addages but OMG, if I ever saw a perfect candidate for a Darwin award it was the parent of two children on the green outside work at lunch time. Let me explain, there where two children, a toddler of about 18 months, maybe 2 years old and an older sibling about 3-4 years old. Now the younger one has a plastic cricket ball the older one has a wooden full size cricket bat. The younger one is trying to throw the ball so that the older one can hit it with the bat, but she's not throwing it hard enough and it's not reaching her brother. So the mother tells her to move closer to her brother. Can you see what's going to happen?
The younger one moves to within a metre of her brother and throws the ball as hard as she can, he swings the bat and clobbers his sister in the ribcage.

I really think there should be some kind of test that people have to go through before they are allowed to breed.

Applications and tarot cards

I applied for a job today. The one I'm currently employed in. I wont get it, I know I wont. I don't care enough about the work I've been given so I've been really half arsed thinking as a temp I'll be out of here soon anyway. 18 months + down the line I'm still here and they are looking for permanent staff-bugger. I love the place I work in-geographically it's perfect, walking distance, nice route, nice views, close to the pub job. The people I work with are (for the most part) lovely and there's a good social aspect. As it's City Hall it looks wonderful on my CV, but the work I'm given is tedious and finicky and, fuck me, dull as ditch water.

I hate form filling, but had resolved to make a great job of it and last night was set up to do just that, Mark was out for the evening, I had emailed the application pack and colleagues applications for the same job so I've got some guidance and sat down to 'kick this form in the balls.' Having done the easy bits-name, address, DOB... I decided to go for a smoke. Now let me explain the way you get into the flat that I live in: first there is a wrought iron gate that you need a chub key to get in, then there is the front door which is a modern uPVC one with a handle that you unlock with a yale key. Now you're in the building. The entrance to the flat also requires two keys, a chub lock on the first door leading to a space that is less than 1m square then a yale lock to get into the flat. Yes, I know that's a lot of locks. So I've got a notepad to jot down a few ideas, a cigarette, a lighter, yale door closes, no key to get through the chub door. So now both doors are locked and I have no key and, on closer inspection, I've also forgotten my pen. Ahhh well, it's 20:45 Mark said he'd be home before 22:30 so it can't be long till he's leaving anyway so I won't bother him. I smoke and wait. I search my pockets for something of use, finding my oyster card holder-I've been meaning to sort it out for a while so I remove all the old train tickets and travel cards (except the ones I want to keep for sentimental reasons) and absent mindedly start shuffling them. So now I'm sitting on a laminate floor surrounded by shoes and reading my travel cards (they predicted more London Loop walks and trips to Wales).

Wow. Matches! I'm not going to start playing with fire in a small space that I can't get out of, but if I strike a match and let it burn, it'll make charcoal and at least then I can doodle, so I do this with 8 matches and design an imaginary garden perfecting my use of a spent match as a pen as I go. Now it's about 22:00 Mark must be on his way home by now. I text him a cryptic text saying I'm in limbo without him and could he get me some chocolate-haven't had any dinner yet! At 22:20 I start calling him. No response. I get a call back at 22:35 telling me he's just left, I tell him to make haste as I'm stuck in the hallway, he wants to know why I didn't call him earlier "because I didn't want to spoil your evening" says I. It's true, I wouldn't have thought twice about it a few weeks ago but then, every thing's different now.

Thoughts of the application form have long left my head, I want food now (I didn't get my chocolate bar as Mark had no money) quick, easy, pasta it is.

So I completed the form in a rush this morning. In short it's a half arsed application for a job that I do half arsed everyday. If I get anywhere it will be a miracle. Maybe it'll help that I'm already here, that shouldn't make a difference but it's not what you know it's who you know in this life. Unfortunately I've just discovered the person that short lists the application forms is the only person here that seems to have a problem with me.

Should've gone to the pub instead.

My Gran had a poodle once

And this is dedicated to someone of the same name. I made it up last night when I was going to sleep.

I have to
Disguise my contempt,
Smile 'til my face aches.
Pretend it doesn't matter,
bide my time and raise the stakes.

Put on your red shoes

I want to go out and dance till I can stand no more, laugh till my face hurts and run because I'm so excited I have to burn off the energy somehow.
I want to look at the fit guys across the room and giggle with my friends and joke about which one of them should go with each of us. I want to be in the club when the lights come on and see which one of us really got stuck with the munter.
I want to stumble home, finding a shopping trolley on the way and jumping in for a ride. I want to wake up in the early afternoon with my face in a kebab and a friend on the sofa.
I want half an eye on the phone wondering if he will call or text, I want the anticipation of that first date and the first kiss at the end of it. I want the thrill of a touch that electrifies. I want to panic about a deadline that doesn't matter and be proud of a grade that doesn't count. I want to be late and not worry. I want to have a bad attitude that suits me. I want to paint flowers on my face and wear a skirt that's too short. I want to show the world a v sign followed by my bare arse then run away to tell someone who'll laugh and wish they'd done it first. I want to wander the streets knowing I'll find someone I know who's not doing anything and we'll find somewhere to cotch together until the rest of the gang find us-knowing where to be seen is instinctual and knowing where to look is common sense. I want my evenings to start at 15:10 again.
I want to spend my weekend wandering around (the old) Camden in a purple haze. I want to pet stange dogs and wonder what I'll be when I grow up. I want to plan trips that will never happen and dream about where I'll go when I have a camper van and a german shepherd. I want to wander the city late at night and laugh at the silly street names and marval at a set of stairs opposite St Pauls cathedral. I want to link arms with my friends and sing at the top of our lungs, what ever song is cool that week (Loser, unchained melody etc).

Would I do anything differently? Not back then I wouldn't changes would come later and it would involve more wreckless stuff not less of it. I'd carry it on longer. I'd be a bit wilder. I'd shout louder than the rest of the world put together.

mid teen times

OK, so it's Tuesday and I did something last night that wasn't stay home and faff around on the internet or tidy up. Consequently the flat needs some serious work, but I can deal with that another day and Mark did have a go.
Anyway, back to the point. I'm fed up of living life one weekend to the next so I'm grabbing every day and making it worth while or, to quote Mark when he was hungover and going into work on a Saturday "let's go kick today in the balls." So I met Mirry-anda-the-panda last night. We had a nostalgic walk along Whitecross Street having met outside the old Accapella builing (which isn't there anymore) had a look around Waitrose, it sits where Safeways once lived. We remembered Clair or Ferret stealing vodka and all the rest of the 'crusers' knocking around there or Snowy park. It was a nice trip down memory lane. We bought some Gu desserts and a dressed lobster which we took to the pub to eat. I introduced Mirry to Sailor Jerrys rum and we discovered an alcoholic ginger beer, it's not as good as Stones alcoholic ginger beer but I'm not in Kansas any more and the Wizard of Oz is unlikely to get in contact me ever again so the chances of my finding that are slim indeed.

We talked about mutual friends some we're in contact with some we're not. Some aren't even our friends anymore. Her 'new' relationship. It feels like not much has changed since we were 15 and in 'Caddis Flae' oh, except she has a boyfriend now and I'm not recruiting drummers with my feminine charms. We stayed in the pub 'til about 22:30 ish, we'd bought some weed and sat outside (across from the police station!) smoking which meant our conversation tailed off and went off on to tangents so making much less sense but laughing a great deal more. We promised we would meet up much more regularly and I'm pushing her to meet her new beau so I'm hoping that will happen soon.

I got home tired but happy, knowing I can still call a friend and just 'hang out' feeling like a teenager again. I suppose it helps that I was with a friend that I've known since I was a teenager and we were doing the same sort of stuff (substitute the lobster for a bag of chips and the pub for, well, Snowy park or a concealed bench in the Barbican centre) as we were doing back then.

*Also swap the 'music' we made in our band for the music we played on the jukebox

Living from weekend to weekend

I've just read back the last few posts on here and I've noticed that, like many people, I'm living from one weekend to the next with very little inbetween. Even in the summer. Any posts that I've made during the week are whinges about how boring my job is and how much I dislike which ever of my supervisors is pissing me off that day.

I should be making the most of my evenings, meeting friends in a park, or going to shows at the globe with my boyfriend, but I don't. I've gone back to the pub job so that's Wednesdays and Fridays out of the equation but on the evenings when I'm not working I seem to go home and clean. My new hobby is washing up-or pulling out the cooker/fridge to clean behind them, or re-organising the cupboards (cleaning them as I empty them, obviously).



Shit. I'm turning into my Dad.



I like nothing more than the satisfaction of a clean orderly kitchen side or a freshly made bed and I've always had a weird obsession with washing and washing up. I seem to spend an unreasonable amount of my life hanging socks. None of this would make a particularly good blog post. (So I'm sorry about this one).

I work and clean. That is my life. It will be worth it when I can buy a house outright and spend my evenings in my own garden and my weekends walking along the Pembrokeshire coast.













Additional: I've just booked two tickets to see 'As you like it' at Shakespeares Globe Theatre. After all, for the time being, I live in London. One of the most interesting, busy and cultural cities in the world, I might as well make the most of it until I retire to the countryside.

Arsenal v Celtic

I watched the game last night, some of it at me Brothers and some of it at my Dads then back to my Brothers to see Arsenal end the game victorious. Before the game started, when the players where in the tunnel the Celtic supporters sung their hearts out to their club anthem 'You'll never walk alone.'

Danny looks at me and says "that's an Irish song isn't it?" Must be, says I. The last time either of us had heard the song was at our Grandads funeral a few weeks ago.

Danny "But they're a Scottish club"
The screen shows a sea of green, white and gold flags
Jade "well they've got some strong connections with Ireland by the looks of things"
Danny "maybe it's something to do with religion, would they be the protestants or the catholics?"
Both - "Catholic"

So thanks Grandad, you've taught me something about football and sparked an interest in history. My own history. Our own history.

I know that they have 'orange marches' or 'orange men' in both Scotland and Ireland but I don't really know what it means. It's something to do with fighting between Catholics and Protestants, but I don't know who's orange or what they're marching for. But I'll find out.

Time is ruthless

it's already an entire day since my Grandad died. I didn't see that sneaking up on me.

It's Friday, I should be happy, the start of the weekend and two days of freedom. But I'm not. I'm unprepared for it. I need to wax my legs, wash my hair, find my clothes which seem to be tunnelling their way through to the flat next door. My flat is a state. The mice are getting cheeky and closer to the sleeping part of the room we live in. We're finding cockroaches on a daily basis now. And I've heard nothing about the place that we had put a side to move into once the contract (sentence) is up. In fact I've been told that we shouldn't really start looking until it does expire as we can't do anything until then anyway. Frustration!

That's exactly what it is, I'm frustrated because there's nothing I can do about any of the things that are irritating me. We signed a contract to stay in the flat for a year so that's what we have to do. I asked about the neighbours and as told they were nice. I should have got that in writing because it wasn't true, they were drug dealers that the landlord had been trying to evict for 18 months. When they were evicted and the property seized by the Met police they just took up their usual business in the courtyard. The police would come, search them, tell them to leave and they would be back within 10 minutes.

The other thing that is wrong with the flat is it's infested. There are mice and cockroaches. We noticed the mice as soon as we moved in and had a lone cockroach which Mark dutifully identfyed then released. But since we have new neighbours downstairs there are lots of them. My theory is that they were down there when the place was a drug den/whore house and now that the Summer is here their numbers have exploded and we're getting the overspill. The new neighbours are probably a lot cleaner than the last lot and therefore the roaches are trying to find somewhere they like. The pest control people were informed two weeks ago but because we don't have a doorbell they couldn't get in and we have to wait for another appointment. I don't think they're in a rush.

My job is unchallenging (I'm writing this whilst at work) and at the moment there is actually nothing to do. I'm not joking, nothing. I'm a temp so my job's never safe and I feel like this one is coming to an end. I feel like it came to an end about a month ago but they haven't let me go just in case. I've been looking for another job, I've even worked on my CV but I haven't got a covering letter yet so all of the replies I've got have been rejections. They have also moved the goal posts. I signed up for a job from 9-5:30 now that I've been here a while I'm being put on the t2 shift-9:30-6, no big deal, half an hour either side. I have a pub job I need to start at 6. I told them this. The phone supervisor has pushed and pushed for me to do t2. unrelentlessly. So now I have to and she's putting me on there twice a week. I wonder how long it'll take them to figure out that my absence due to sickness has gone up and seems to coincide with those days. I have to get a cover letter done and get out of here. I want a proper job, but there aren't any out there at the moment. I like the bar job but it means I'm working days and evenings and I'm knackered.

I'll carry this on later, I have to get breakfast. I'm not all that unhappy about my weight at the moment, I'm about a stone over weight, but that's something I can do something about. I'm having horrid porridge.

Happy Birthday MpB!

Last weekend was a great one. I don't have time to go into everything in detail but I'll do the itinery and fill in the gaps later.
Friday: Sam Smiths pub with Marks workmates and Dave.
Angel for 'do you remember the first time'-never made it, Steam passage for last orders.
Chip shop Mark has a need for excessive salt.
I fell asleep almost instantly Mark and Dave sat up chatting til dawn.
Saturday: Chelmsford. Pitch and putt with Mark, Dave and Luke then on to Romford dogs. Mark had a £40+ win-lucky sod, well it is his birthday weekend. Home. must. sleep.
Sunday: Dave and Jadey came to London. London museum. Wheterspoons for dinner. Then Two Brewers in Whitecross street. I pointed out where we'll be living on a map in the city-wish we were there already. We walked Dave and Jadey to Liverpool street then walked home.

It doesn't sound like much when it's put like that, but trust me it was well worth it!

My new friend

There were a few mistakes, a few light things to do and a bit of indecision that wasn't all mine for a change.


Phew, what a weekend it was.



Friday I went out with a friend of mine from the pub that I work in, we drunk Ale from Sussex and chatted. It's nice to get to know new people and Jon is one of the people that I'm genuinely interested in, rather than someone that I'm forced into knowing and have to tolerate (certain colleagues, friends of friends or friends of family members). The only real problem here is that the only time I've spent with him has been when I'm serving behind the bar or when we're both on the 'correct' side of the bar and then we get shitfaced. We both seem to enjoy the really strong pale ales so drunkardness sneaks up on us. And Jon does a disappearing act after a left hand milk stout. It's one of the things I like about him as I've been known to just leave once I've had enough-I'm not big on goodbyes when I'm drunk, they usually lead to sloppy kisses and the classic "You know you're my best friend, hic" or " I really love you man!" And it seems that even when I'm beyond remembering my own name I just know that this is not a dignifyed thing to do so I sneak off too. We had another of those nights that ends in me playing pac-man chasing a take away curry around the kitchen floor because Mark's put it on a plate but I'm too drunk to lift my head off of the floor so I push the plate forward with every bite I attempt.



Saturday we went to Ricmond park-WOW it's even prettier than I remembered, we saw the deer, the first time was from a distance, and we tried to get pictures with our phones and although we could see them quite clearly the camera picked them up as about 3 pixels on a screen of green and blue (The Rigante colours). Still it was a magical sight. We walked on through the park and came to a lake with a bench between it and an overgrown meadow so we sat and had lunch. Saw some beautiful blue mayflies and inspected a really ugly insect that landed on my ruck sack. As we got up to leave we saw the deer again, a lot closer this time and they were coming towards us. Some had anklers and they varied from 1 to 7 pointers, there were colour variations some being quite dark fawn and others quite bright whites. They were all beautiful and the anklers looked like they would feel like velvet to touch. I thought it looked sumptuous, Mark said the feel of velvet makes him itch. I shall put the pictures on here at somepoint when I play with this blog at home. They got closer and closer and I started to get a bit nervous-well they are a bit like small horses and one of them did try to eat me when we were in Wales. So we tried to back off but they kept coming, bloody hell we're beng surrounded by carnivorous deer! It all ended well when I hit one on the head with a digestive. Deer seem to like digestives-who knew?

O-a-sis, on Sun-day. Short pause. At Wem-bley
Words screached by a city dweller into her mobile phone at the crossing this morning. Mark's right you know. There are goung to be a lot more arseholes at the Oasis gig than there were at the Blur gig. I can see there being a few groups of chavs on an annual outing and more people will be there for the atmosphere (a place to get hammered) as apposed to the music. As I've said I'm a much bigger Oasis fan than a Blur fan, making me the odd one out in the circle of people that I mix with and I suppose that means that I'm more at home with the arseholes of this world than the relatively normal people that I work and socialise with.
I'm not sure if that's true or if I've just had to get used to it, having been 'the best of a bad bunch' at school or college or uni. I don't know when I'll get over this feeling of being hard done by. I'm 28 and still banging on about a 'difficult start' well I should have made up for it by now really.


Sorry, this is a shit post, I'm just waffling and wallowing in a bit of self pity. Poor me!
But at least I get to see O-a-sis, on Sat-ur-day and Sun-day. At Wem-bley.

See ya there you arsehole

What a weekend!

Phew!!

Blur in Hyde park (captured awsomeness)-sunning, drinking, dancing, waiting for the toilet. Watching 'Milky' (Mark) be a celebrity and having his photo taken with all and sundry.

Pride. Outfit not quite finished, but held together with safety pins =0
Parading around west end (more civvies than last year, not as much space or appreciation). Drinks around Soho, easily the most painful time for my feet in my entire life!
Went home exhausted!

Rounders in the park, Chelmsford with the PGCE people, twas lovely seeing all of them. But I didn't get as much of a chance to actually speak to them as I would have liked. Probably something to do with chasing that ball around a field! Nice Thai meal, sun stoke and a kip on the train on the way home.

Monday-sneaky day off to tidy the flat (found a massive cockroach, now that gave me some motivation!) sat at the table smoking (naughty naughty). Rain started at about 16:00, so now I know Mark won't be going to football, he's coming straight home so I run around fabreezing everything as I have no air freshner. I think I got away with it.

I've been having strange dreams recently, from what I remember about the one I had on Monday morning, I had dark hair a straight heavy fringe two side burn type bits a little longer than the fringe and the rest of my hair tied back. I remember this so vividly because as I looked in the mirror my left eye was blank. Just white-I could see out of it, I tested it. But then it started bleeding, I was crying blood. I remember I was trying to find someone or something in a supermarket-it was something to do with a job. But no-one bothered about my eye.

Weird, I'm sure it's something to do with the smoking-which I will stop again soon...

Blur-Hyde Park-Tomorrow!

So why am I listening to Jeff Waynes War of the Worlds on Youtube?



I was a mid-late teenager when the Blur/Oasis war was going on and I've retained alot of the thoughts I had then (not just on this topic either). Blur were softer quirkier and edgier. They had sounds that wouldn't have been out of place on an old fashioned carosel being run in a fair some time in the 1950's. They were cuter, esp Alex James-my own favourite and they were the group that all the popular kids at my school prefered. I, however prefered Oasis. Now I'm sure that part of that was me just trying to be different as this was a favourite pass time of mine along with the other being complaining that I didn't fit in anywhere. They were a bit rougher, the growlly gravelly voice over whining guitars. The publicity around them was more interesting too, two brothers having a scrap-it made the fame that they had seem attainable, they were just normal people who argued witht heir siblings, Blue sung songs about kids who's Dads were bankers, mine worked in a warehouse.


The images I got from their music was more real to me.

Moving forward

The weekly meeting was this morning, I've been going to them since I started 'working' here last May and the only thing that has ever concerned me was when we were told that the department was getting an all singing all dancing photocopier/printer/scanner and it turns out that I'll still be using the old one so even that was just a passing interest. As I'm temping here all the 'major changes' and 'trial runs' have meant nothing as what I do is uneffected. But I go so that I feel part of hte team and to show an interest. Showing an interest is becoming more and more difficult so I've started to take a notepad and noting down all the stupid office jargon that's said and the frequency of its use.
Todays meeting lasted 40 minutes and the term "going forward" was used 15 times-that's nearly once every two minutes. It was used by the Manager, phones supervisor, line manager and a few colleages. There was a stage where there was an uncomfortable silence broken soley by these words, I nearly fell off my chair laughing. I really don't know how I heald it together.

Well I think it's time that I 'moved forward' I need a real job, I'm fed up temping. I want the benefits that come with the commitment, not just the commitment of being afraid there will be no job at the end of next week. I've said it's about time I grew up and got some adult responsibilty, and I have to start with a proper job with real prospects. So as the 'system' that's been the talk of these pointless meetings for so long has crashed (again) I'm going to spend the day searching Reed employment and jazzing up my cv.

I've really got to get out of here!

Is forgiveness the same thing as admitting there's nothing you can do to change or even up a situation and learning to live with the frustration that brings?

Fat ladies in floral print make me feel sick and I've seen two of them today.

The most horrific was the one I saw through a pub window, she was about two feet wide with a short garish flower print dress on that had a hole cut out of the back so that everyone could see her pale, clammy, fat, sweaty back. I'm not being cruel, this is what it actually looked like and it made me feel queesy. I think the cruel person here was who ever said to this person "go on, wear it, you look alright." Cruel to her and cruel to the rest of Upper Street. I felt strongly enough about it at the time to point her out to Mark who turned around just in time to see her take a tumble as she crossed the road out side screen on the green. And I feel strongly enough about it now to dedicate a blog entry to it. Not a very good one I admit, but still, this has taken time to write when I could be restlessly tossing and turning and keeping Mark awake.

The other one wasn't nearly as dramatic, but I was pished by the time I saw her and full up on vegetable and goats cheese lasagne. She just made me remember the first one and now it's an image I don't think I'll ever forget!

Wacko Jacko's Dead!

I thought that was worth a mention, there's an interesting conspiracy theory that's been going around for at least 5 years and it states that MJ has actually been dead for over twenty: Decide for yourself.

Well, I don't want to talk about that. I wanted to say that I had a day off from hospital visits last night and went for an impromptu picnic after work. It was lovely. It was Marks idea, we took a few bottles of beer got some crisps and dips on the way and sat in the park on Cambridge Heath Road. We sat on the grass, chatted, ate, drank and read-him The Time Machine me The Phantom of The Opera, until the evening sun became too weak to warm us and we headed home. He had his arm around my shoulders all the way home, I don't usually like what I call "ownership" contact, but I found this quite comforting and I was strangely proud that people would see that I belong to him (and vice-versa). When we got back I did some internet shopping for his Birthday present-I wont tell you what in case he's reading, but I think I've outdone myself this year. He has an army of pressies-that's the only hint you're getting!

It was simply a pleasent evening, I got enough sleep did some enjoyable things and woke up this morning feeling fresh. I shall be back at the hospital tonight and this weekend is anyones guess. But I had one good night I can think about that and smile.


Supplimentary : The post has come and Mark has had an 'Hello Kitty' tee shirt sent to me at work! It's pink, I love it!

War of the Worlds!

I saw it at the O2 yesterday. I bought the tickets for Mark's Birthday and when I booked it I thought it was going to be a play, or a mustical with an orchestra. So I made sure we got good seats on the floor, in the middle, next to an aisle. Now, Mark has seen it before, when he was 18 in Manchester from a broom cupboard about 5 floors away from the stage, and he'd told me this so I thought-get the best seats possible. When I told him I'd got them for him and all the trouble I'd gone to to make sure we could see the show. Imagine my disdain when I found out that the show is just the music. It's a sodding orchestra, that's all. With a few singers.

Ah, well. It's not my show, I'm sure he'll love it. I've had a hard weekend for other reasons that I don't want to go into on here, but we left with plenty of time so that we could eat before we went in. We took the tube from Aldgate East to Monument then walked over ground to Bank and got the tube again to London Bridge to discover that the Jubilee line is suspended due to planned engineering works. Bugger. So we get a replacement bus, then a local bus service and had about 45 minutes spare, not really long enough to sit down and eatm but certainly long enough for atake away. So it was burgers all round, sitting on a bench in the O2. Nice.

Show was good, there was a sort of a film accompanying the music in the background and a big Marsian tripod came down from the ceiling at one point. The autumn leaves falling was a nice touch. I only had to pee once during the show and I timed it perfectly, just before the half time whistle went so I missed the queue and still heard the music from speakers in the loo anyway.

I spend most of the show with a craving for chocolate, but had to have a beer instead.
Getting home was simple, 1 bus. We'll have to remember that the next time we go to the O2.

Not a bad night out for a Sunday and it got a birthday/Christmas present out of the way-can't remember which anymore. And Top Gear has started a new series, so the outside world seems to be going well and I feel like it's trying to give me a reason to smile, so I'll try my best.

I hate working Fridays!

Pub work is lame.

That is all.

Growing up

Do you remember being a kid and wondering what it was like to be a grown up? I don't mean when you were a teenager and thought "I can't wait until I'm old enough to drink, smoke or have sex" I mean when you thought that life had a number of milestones where things happened automatically. Am I the only person that thought thet way? A few examples: at an unspecified age you got given a job and a driving license and a car, then you worked for a few years and got given somewhere to live, next you got married and had children. Simple.

I never gave any thought to how everyone got these things because it was obvious, they were given to you at a certain age. If you wanted to be a doctor you went to school, college then university (although in those days I didn't know the exact order) and when you were finished, you were given the job that you'd wanted in the first place. I admire the naïvety that children have, I wish I still had it and I, even more so, wish that it was the case.

Well, I've been to college and university and I haven't got the job I wanted. I've past the age where I'm supposed to get a driving licence and a car and no-ones given them to me. Don't even talk to me about where I live and I've had a few close calls with marriage, but I've not been caught out yet. Children? well I've never even had a scare. I'm a sensible girl.
Well, now I realise that you have to make these things happen yourself. So I'm going to work on them one at a time. After the fantasic time Mark and I had in Wales we've decided to move ourselves a little closer to the countryside. Swansea seems the logical place as it's a big city that's close and easily accessable to the sort of place we like. So I've been looking at places tolive, started with renting a room in a shared house and oh my god, look at the price of them! Not in a bad way either, it's cheap, I mean some of them are the same price for a month as we currently pay a week for the shit hole we live in. And looking at the places they're nice, they have space and gardens and real neighbours that aren't drug dealers or whores (I've looked up the area both on thenet and asking friends that know the area. I've looked on google streetview and as far as I can see there's no down side). Now I think, just for fun-to daydream for a bit, I'll look at the house prices to buy. Again, pleasently surprised, I'm a bit excited now so I look up mortgages that we may be able to get and not only does it look possible, it looks like we'd be fools not to go for it.

People live in London for the excitement and the city life. I don't find it exciting and I've never liked the city life. Apart from it being easy to find work there's no advantage to being here at all.
So there it is, theres a rudimentary plan taking shape and it looks do-able. Maybe what I thought when I was a child wasn't so far fetched, I've just been waiting for it in the wrong place.

SLR Film Cameras!

Started the photography craze this weekend, went to the Heath and played around. I don't remember much from my photography module at uni, so it's pretty much all guess work, but I'm hoping that at least some of the pictures came out ok.

We got through half a roll of film each day, but Sunday was by far the better of the two days.



My camera kit is bulky because I made sure I got loads of accessories with mine-bargain hunter that I am. Thus it's a bitch to lug around and I have a whole load of stuff that I don't know what to do with. Three lenses, two teleconverters, various filters (that I don't know how to attach, but Mark held one in front of the lens for me for one shot so I could justify carrying it all day).



Satuday involved getting out of the house late ;) getting a bus that took us most of the way and not finding the area we wanted to get to and playing with zoom lenses to try to photograph a stalk, a comerant and a few baby coots. Leaving the Heath at what we thought was a reasonable time but not getting home before the shops closed. Meaning toast for dinner.



Sunday, however, was wonderful. We found a sunny clearing in the wooded area and sat in the long grass drinking speciality beer and eating a frugal lunch of peanuts, pairs and cheesey biscuits. I wrote a few words in the notepad we were recording our shots in (focal length, shutter speed, aperture, lens, subject).



I got a short but helpful photography lesson from a passer by who was passionate about photography. Unfortunately the only thing I can really remember is that 125 shutter speed is fine when you don't have a tripod. An aperture of 5.6-8 will get pretty much everything in focus and the higher numbers for the aperture will focus further away and low numbers will focus close up-or was it the other way around? I'd drunk both my beers by then (Brew dog Hardcore IPA and Sierra Nevada Torpedo IPA for those of you who are interested) and I couldn't take it in as easily as I could have before I drunk them (!)

The most boring night of my life

Was last night at the pub. I was working not drinking and socialising with friends although I've had a few nights that have come close (meeting old friends that you no longer have anything in common with and end up having stifled conversations about public transport or the weather).

But last night was verging on painful. I wasn't with my favourite people, none of the customers were even vaguely interesting and the main manager was supervising. Yes he has some good and un-pc jokes on his phone which he shares with us, but that can only last so long. I happened to know my arch nemisis was drinking around the corner and I hadn't gotten around to phoning the pubs in the local area as part of 'pub watch' ie theif in the area and I walked past the bitch on my way to work, which really pissed me off. I tried not to think about her and suceeded, but the boredom that followed was so intense I almost wish I'd allowed myself to be angry instead. I had half an hour break at about 20:40 and couldn't find anywhere to go so I had a cigerette then loitered around the bar. By 21:15 I was back behind the bar and had reached my capacity for boredom, by 21:40 I was the most bored it is humanly possible to be and there was nearly two hours left of my shift. TWO HOURS!!!!!

Between then and the end, I tried to list in hy head all the nice things Mark has done for me over the last 18 months. I got as far as the apple danish he got me for breakfast a week or so ago but the intrisic and repeating boredom had settled in by then and I got bored with that.
Then I rememberd the episode of the young ones called bored where Vivian puts his foot through the telly which put me in mind of Bottom-I'm currently amking my way through seris 1-3 on DVD so I started humming the men behving badly theme tune, this is some strange link between the two seris' that I have made in my own head, I think it's a prompt as to which comedy seris I should acquire next.

And now I'm at my day job, the system has crashed again and the boredom is edging it's way back. But at least here I can blog and perhaps buy men behaving badly on Amazon!

I've been called mental in various different ways and for a number of different things quite alot recently. Some of the things I've done I admit are a little strange but most of them are the sort of things that I'm sure everyone thinks but not everyone says.
For example the same person has called me autistic twice in the last few weeks, once for claiming I'm good with numbers and once for reciting the Big Breakfast competition address and the Going Live competition phone number. Although I think these are due to a certain amount of television brainwashing (surely everyone of my age who was baby sat by the telly can do this?) and suppressed competition entries (I always wanted to enter the competitions but wasn't allowed to use the phone and my Mum thought writing in was a waste of time).
Last night at PQT I was arranging boxes of mugs for members of the public to take once they had filled in their comments forms. I got a tad over creative with the positioning of the boxes and a little upset when someone actually had to take one-ruining my display which resulted in me spending most of my time putting new boxes where the old ones had been to keep my display intact. A colleage called me a "perfectionist." The quote marks were added by my colleage at the time and are not a later addition by myself.
Another example from work: I have posh coffee that is ground for filter, alot of the people I work with have the same sort and it's become a sort of trend amoung us. However, I triple filter mine. I'm being economical, using a small amount of coffee and running it through the paper filter three time using two cups. This was described as compulsive coffee making.
One from home now: we have two sauce pans and a steamer one sauce pan is larger than the steamer, one is smaller. It's clear to me that the large one is for pasta, boiled potatoes and the like, the small one is for beans, pasta sauces etc and the steamer is for vegetables. Now last week I saw my boyfriend take the 'pasta' sauce pan off of the draining board and use it to cook beans, so I said he was being lazy not taking the 'beans' sauce pan out of the cupboard. It turns out this sort of thing is not instinctual to him and I had to explain the difference while he looked at me, half smirking half amazed.

I know each of these actions has a perfectly reasonable explanation be it economical, environmental, inspirational or just plain common sense. But I seem to be the only person on earth who thinks these things.

As long as I don't tell my psychiatrist I should be alright....



********
Additional. When I tread on a crack in the pavement that I can feel through my shoe I try to stand on another similar sized crack with the same part of my other foot to even things up. I've only told one person about this, he didn't call me mental-it turns out he does the same thing.

Wales

Is a wonderful place. Obviously the pictures show the highlights of the holiday (at least while we had the camera). Our pictures look better than the post cards we bought while we were there, the sky and the sea seem bluer and the personalised touch of us being in the pictures proves we were there to see the very best that South-West Wales has to offer.



We arrived on Friday at around midday after setting off at the ungodly hour of 6:30. The journey was uneventful, on reflection the route was a little odd, seeming to fork off then go back on itself and the request stops were a new thing to me but we didn't have to do anything special so it didn't effect us. I was far to excited to sleep on the train as had been my plan so I read and looked at the new OS map, planning route that we would later ignore.

We arrived at the station in glorious sunshine and found the campsite (2.7 miles away) with ease. Set up camp and wandered back into town to get supplies, found a farmers market in full swing and tested some locally produced apple brandy-very nice. We made enquiries about the bus to get us to the launch point for Skomer Island and found a 'puffin shuttle' would take us there in time to queue for the boat. All good.

The pictures tell the story better than I ever could.

But I've had to cut them down so much that you'll never get the full story...
...so make of this lot what you will-hey, tell me a story for a change!











It's not surprising, but I feel another move coming on...

Holiday was wonderful

And I'll write about that later-sorry it's taken so long, but I went back to working day and night shifts for the last two days and tonight, Friday night, I'm looking forward to a nice early night so that I can be fresh faced for my best friend's wedding tomorrow.

Anyway, that's not what I wanted to say here. My boyfriend bought me an apple danish and put it in my work bag. I had it with my coffee for breakfast. I'll be smiling all day now. Don't you think that was a sweet thing to do?

Memories

I love the smell of rain. In the city it's mixed with diesel, especially when you're waiting for a bus on city road.


When I was a kid we had a caravan that was shared between my entire family, not like normal people would with a time share arrangement, it was more like 'it's the school holiday's lets all pile in!' I'm not joking we were known to get 14 people into 9 berth caravan along with 3 dogs. Among the grandchildren the boys out number the girls meaning the girls were always guarenteed as much privicy as you can get in this kind of overcrowding, we had our own room, when I was very young I shared with Ann she is 6 years my senior which is a huge difference when you're 9 & 15 and when I became the hooligan staying out till all hours I shared with Ann's sister Laura who is 7 years my junior. Having so many peple in a small space meant we had to spend most of our time out doors, this was in the South coast of England in the 80's & early 90's it wasn't always pleasent. But we (the kids) loved it, with so many of us there was always someone to play/fight/plot with.



The drive there was always full of anticipation and I rarely fell asleep unlike my brother who managed it on most trips. As we were the smallest family (Dad, myself and my brother-Mum never came) we had the duty of taking my grandparents, which meant there would always have to be a certain amount of Irish music played on the way. Usually mostly Irish music, my Mum called it diddly-diddly music, if she'd only come with us we wouldn't have had both grandparents in the car and probably would have got a bit more capital FM than we ever did.

Prioritise EVERYTHING!

I left my book at the pub last night. It's not a problem, I haven't lost it forever or anything, I work there and it was left on a shelf behind the bar with my scarf. Ironically so that I wouldn't forget it when I left to go home. So this morning on my way to work instead of having my nose in a book I looked around me. I have a particularly nice view on my way to work as I cross Tower Bridge and go along the South Bank a little way, so I really should appriciate it a little more. I watched the Thames swell showing smooth surfaces looking like a balloon streatched and close to bursting and ripples like the same balloon after it had burst, looking old wrinkled and useless. Cormerants on the surface taking a deep breath to dive. It was lovely. There's always something going on in the green outside City Hall and this morning there was a huge inflateable dome that wasn't there yesterday, I'll see what that's all about at lunch time.

I got into work ten minutes early to be greeted by my boss asking if I had finished a task she gave me on Tuesday afternoon. To explain, I've done this before and it took the best part of a week and yesterday I had to go to a meeting, take the minutes and type them up. On top of which she has put me on phone duty which means that as soon as you get any kind of flow for anything you're doing the phone rings and you have to stop. So my reply was "no, I'm afraid I haven't had the time to finish it yet, but I'll get on to it now if you want." She tells me it's a priority to get it done so start it ASAP. I'm not even meant to be here yet and I know she wont sign my timesheet for a minute over my contracted hours. "And the TfL post didn't go out yesterday so can you do that as a priority too?" she added accusitory. She didn't even ask me to do that so that can't be my fault! She's obviously read the word 'priority' in a memo she's recently recieved and got the jist of the meaning but not quite the correct definition, I really want to tell her that if she keeps calling things "priority" it equates to nothing being a priority and that if you want someone to do something you a) have to ask them and b) give then enough time to get it done.

And today started off with so much promise!

Drunk, on a Sunday!

and now feeling rough on a Monday.


Sunday was alot of fun, but I'm feeling it todaya. I'm tired beyond belief. not just a little bit. Head lolling around my shoulders as I look at the computer screen. The system is down so I can't actully work so I'm looking for a camera on ebay and wishing I was still in bed.


Getting as drunk as I turened out to be was an accident. I was supposed to get my hair cut, have a civilised lunch with Jamie then go home and hang up my washing.


It started well, I got my hair cut. The fringe isn't quite short enough, but never mind it would have grown ito this in about a week anyway (my hair grows ridiculously fast). Jamie couldn't find the hair dressers, not helped by the fact that he called it hairy fairy rather than hair by fairy! So we did what comes naturally to us and met in a pub. It was National Norweigan day or some such and the pub was full of them, being all patriotic and stuff. There was a geezer that looked alot like Beethoven (the Bill & Ted version) who kept standing on a bar stool and starting them all off singing their National anthem. Not that I minded, the only thing Iminded was I didn't know the words so I couldn't join in! We got talking to a girl on the table next to ours and she said he should start something different that he was doing the same thing over and over. As I didn't a) know the song and b) understand the words until she'd said that I hadn't noticed. We went for food at an Italian place near the square then went back for a few more in the Punch (or as I will call it from now on-that Norweigan place) Beethoven had been joined on his bar stool-or at least another bar stool dangerously close to him, by a member of the blues brothers and I think the girl that wanted a different song had had a word, but they couldn't come up with a Norweigan song that everybody knew so they had settles on the chorus from "Buffalo Soldier" So at least now I could join in!

Happy Norwegian day!

I saw Beethoven and The Blues Brothers singing Buffalo Soldier in the Punch, in cOVENT GARDEN.
i CLA]EARRLY CAN' T TYPE, NOW.
i', M TOO DRIUNK.
NIGHT

Coughs and sneezes spread diseases

I've had a cold for the last week or so, and off work with it for the last two days. I felt alot better this morning, but as I was rota'd on the phones I decided another day in bed just to make sure would be a good idea.

Work sucks. I want a new job!

Damn you facebook

it's a blessing and curse. I've finished all the work that I've been given to do for the day and I want to play on it-do some quizzes, write on walls, update my status telling everyone how cushty my job is.
But I've gone and added all my work colleages, including two of my direct superiors
Fucksocks.

At least they don't know about my blog. Infact nobody I know knows about it, let alone reads it!
I've been getting a cold steadily for the last four days now, scratchy throat, bunged up nose, stuffy ears. I'm hpoing that the paranoia about swine flu will mean I get a week or so off work. Not because I have anything to do, just becuase it's boring me and getting up in the morning is starting to get on my nerves.
Holiday, as I have said is booked. I should be looking forward to it. I am looking forward to it. The whole "I will be sweetness and light until we come back" went right out of the window, but I don't feel as bad about it as I used to. I think I'm losing interest in this relationship. I spent two days evicting Mark from my dreams and future plans and now I don't even miss him in them, although I might miss him in day-to-day life I know longer see a future for us. I should just stop being so serious and enjoy what's left. I won't, I know I won't. I'll stress and fret and push him away, but at least I have a direction to aim for that's totally my own.

HIGNFY

I saw it filmed last night!
It wasn't as awsome as I thought it would be but I suppose I'm used to the fully polished version that appears on the telly. It was an experience and, as I don't have a telly at the moment, it was good to see the show again!
I won't retell the jokes as I probably wouldn't do them justice and I'm sure it would infringe the terms and conditions of my entry. But Paul Merton said we were a sarcastic audience (highly complimentry coming from the king of sarcastic comments) and commended out ability to take the piss out of the panalists without resorting to heckling. It was also the first time they'd recieved a standing ovation.
I went with Miranda who's an old frind-I'm talking nearly 15 years or so. We were in a band together in our early teens, she's continued in music more than onyone else in Caddis Flae, which is probaly best as she was the only one of us that had or has any musical talent.
You know how when you meet old friends that you haven't seen in years you usually reminisce over old times, discuss mutual friends then the conversation dries up and you make an obvious effort to rekindle some commonality? Well it wasn't like that at all. We had a slight bitch about a mutual 'friend' that we've both fallen out with then talked about our current lives and all the happenings there of. We gave advice, laughed, made comparisons, ate, drank, chatted and resloved to meet again in a fortnights time. She even shocked me a few times. Oh, how the worm has turned!
I think we have more in common now than we did 'back in the day.'
I think I'll enjoy making these meetings a more regular occurance, so let's drink to old friendships that reanimate effortlessly and bloom fuller and more brightly than they could have been before.

Healthy, plus obligatory quit smoking lecture

At work today there were free health MOTs so I took one.
My blood pressure is 84/121 (textbook normal)
My cholesterol is 4.2 (under 5.2 is good)
My blood sugar was a little low-but it was just before lunch time so that's normal.
My waist measurement was in the healthy range for my height.
So it looks like I might be around for a while to come!

Of course, I was told I should stop smoking and I am still trying. But I begrudge giving up my fag breaks. I should time them and just go out for a quick stroll around the carpark. I've been thinking that for quite some time. Somehow I don't think it will be quite as satisfying.

Dinner's burning-gotta go

captains log supplimentry

I also found a fiver on my way to the shops during a fag break at the pub job and go a £2 tip from an Austrailian girl.

All in all it was a lucky day yesterday. And a fellow county person rdeemed the Aussies a little.

:)

Huge box of popcorn!

I just stood under popcorn rain, the salty kind. No, I'm not being rude and this is not a euphamism. It's Orange Wednesdays 5th birthday and they hid prizes in the popcorn so I was first in! I didn't get a big prize, but I came away with two cinema tickets and two Orange sim cards with £10 credit on each of them. So all in all it was quite a productive lunch break!

There's a video of it here. There are no pictures of me (I successfully avoided the cameras) but you can make out my yellow skinny jeans for a milisecond in the video!

Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey

I'm going on a camping/walking/birding holiday to Wales!!!
It's booked (virtually) there will be puffins and seals and choughs and bluebells.
And a pub.

Looks good. I can hardly wait, my first holiday in about 8 months-the last one was camping too and involved an off shore British Isle. Not as much wildlife spotting, but tonnes more walking. I promise that there will be pictures and I will keep a written journal so that I can post all about it on here.

And here's a promise I'm making to myself, I will be smiles and sweetness and not throw any tantrums until after then. I'm weaving majic-no, not the card game!

I can't help myself singing "Solitare" by Deep Purple.
It's been in my head for days.
I think I'll take the album to work and get it out of my system.
Or at least replace the song!

one, two, three... ..hang on, we'll get there.

I got some good news as I left work last night. My leaving date no longer stands my boss and three of the supervisors couldn't count to ten. It turns out that with all the temps staying on and all the staff returning (from sabbaticals or long term sick or whatever they're doing) we only just get back up to a full deck.
Well I, for one, am glad. I wouldn't want to be looking for a job in the current climate-I'm not sure I understand the "current climate" it's just a term I've learnt to use in the correct context without really knowing the meaning of it. I've got the jist, it will be a bastard to find a job because everyone wants one at the moment.

That's one less thing to worry about. The sun is shining and it will be lunch time soon. I'll wander around St Katherines dock-I might even treat myself to ice cream!

I have done a number of 'good' things today, some productive and all of them benificial in some way. I have finally got some where re: the fridge that has been dumped and is used by crackheads outside my front door. I spoke to someone in the antisocial behavior unit and they gave me a managers name that I cantact to get it removed.
I have answered alot of the correspondence that has been piling up at work (too little too late, I was given my leaving date yesterday).
I have had a pooh, hallelujah! I haven't had one of those in two and a half days and I was begining to worry.
I met Gary Rhodes and got his autograph and I watched him and Boris get on a routemaster bus destined for Leadenhall Market where they were going to share some bread and butter pudding with some papperatzzi.
I have not picked my head once.
I helped the maintenence man with the scanner.
I realised that during two and a half hours in the pub with my work mates yesterday I had to urinate five times-that's once every half an hour. And I had to go again when I got home. I think I shall monitor this a little more closely, not for any reason just out of my own interest.

That's it. My day so far. I'm at work, bored and I begrudge working as much as I usually would because I'm leaving in two weeks time. I'm finally going to have to tackle that question: what do you want to do with your life?
I'm too old for careers advice. Here's what I want.
To dress in normal clothes-not formal stuffy suits.
To be close to home-not travelling across London or to the outskirts, I live in the centre for convenience. What is the point if I then have to work in Harrow?
To do something challenging and interesting but not stressful.
Somewhere I can work my way up a career ladder so I can earn more money and get the fuck out of this city before I die here!

Dream dream dream.

I had another one last night where I was at my old school.
I remember talking to my tutor and telling her that I'd not completed the PGCE she said that it was a shame as I'd make a good teacher. There were other parts where I was giving lessons and writing on a blackboard. I can't remember the details now as this sort of thing fades over the course of the day. I have images of me walking around the school uildings, mostly the tech block, at the top where I had geography and the first floor where Leo's tutorgroup was held. The next part was a 'party' at Barry's house but it was really my Nan's house. I say 'party because there were only 4 people and 3 cats there. Barry had invited two male maths teachers and me one of the maths teachers had brought their two cats who kept stretching near me and digging their claws in. Each time they did it I held their paws quite tightly and told them "no". Barry's cat didn't do this and was, infact, lovely-have I ever mentioned that I don't like cats particularly? Well I don't. I wanted to give Barrys cat some milk because I noticed that it was licking the rim of a cup of milky coffee but Barry thought I was going to the toilet so he told me I could put on his dressing gown (this was a pajama party) which was in the toilet behind the door-it had his name embroided on it. I noticed that his Mum had hooked it up and thought it was a shame to mess it up and that I already had a dressing gown on. So I went back into the living room-didn't manage to get the milk for the cat-and told him I didn't need his dressing gown as I already had one on. I remember feeling attracted to each of the people at the 'party' in turn and deciding that I was most attracted to Barry and deciding, and this was enough to make it a certainty, that we were going to become a couple!
I'd like to add a disclaimer that although Barry is wonderful in everyway and I do love him to bits I do not find him attractive in that way.

Proper east end pubs have a seafood vendor

They sell cockles and mussels and crabsticks or, for the upper class market, prawns.

I was in such a pub on Sunday with an old friend. It felt good. I felt at ease, I could relax. I wasn't watching what I say or trying to put across a view that I don't believe in. I met some nice people, had a laugh and got home in time to be tucked up and getting enough sleep to get to work in the morning a little tired but not in too bad a shape for it. I think I'll make it a more regular thing. It seems to me that a few hours well spent on a Sunday evening can make me happy, until at the very least Tuesday afternoon and very probably for the rest of the week.

I'm fed up of pretending. I don't want to be perfect, why set yourself up for a fall? I'll never really think that way, I'll never put in the effort required to achieve that. Maybe I should really admit it to myself. I've had ideas above my station and reaching for them is making me, if not miserable then exhausted. I don't want to constantly be trying to be something that I'm simply not. It would be nice to go home and be able to just be. But I'm pretending, I'm over-reaching and I'm out of my depth, too stretched to enjoy what I've tried to achieve. And I'm tired.

I don't know why I bother. None of it's been real for a long time. I just don't like change. Maybe backwards isn't such a bad direction to go, at least I know where that leads me.

That is deliberately ambiguous, but I know what I meant. Feel free to let me know your interpretation. I'd like to know if there's anyone listening!