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.