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.

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.

Monday, Monday

I didn't get to Super Picnic Sunday, it didn't happen.

Friday was fun, drinks with colleagues then to the Gladstone to see Tom Rodwell again, he never disappoints and this was no different. I stayed in the pub until the bitter end and had a little chat with Tom, he even gave me some careers advice! I wasn't drunk at all, which is surprising because I'd had wine at work then leffe in the pub and either of those on their own usually floors me. I think it might have been the slight intimidation I felt from all the directors that were there, it wouldn't be a good idea to get drunk and start shrieking.

Saturday was shit.
I was left in the cold.
I didn't get the shopping I wanted for Super Picnic Sunday.
The garage next door have a sound system that shakes the foundations of the flat.
I had to go to work.
I was working with my least favourite people.
I was foolish and gave my number to a guy that wants to take me out.
although he left shortly afterwards I know he'll come back, he's asked after me when I've not been working and now I've...

...oh, shit.

I shall send a message declining, I don't know exactly what I'll say, I'll make something up. Don't give me a reason to go, just don't I'll finish us. I know I will.

Sunday was better, I nearly told Mark what's bugging me. But I couldn't formulate the words. However I imagined myself saying it seemed to send the wrong message. I don't want him to hate me but I know from experience that it won't be my defences he jumps to. I'm not the one who started this, and I can see the sneakyness that he can't, the sideways looks checking if I'm around, the guilt that shows a hug means more than it should. It's not for me to point it out again, I'll be left with and "I told you so" and a broken heart. We went over to Mark's brothers for dinner Kelly had made home made quiche and some lovely potatoe salad. We watched too much telly and Justin and I had a sly smoke and because it was both of us Mark didn't judge me as much as he would have at home.

It was a long journey back, quite a long walk to the station at that end (and we got slightly lost which meant my idea that we should aim for the second from last train was a worthy one) then a long walk from London Bridge to home. We didn't want to go straight to sleep and so watched a bit more Red Dwarf-the later series, not my favourites. I fell asleep during the second episode and Mark woke me to ask me if I was asleep.

My favourite date

is today!
I don't need an excuse for a good time, the weekend should be good enough for that!
Next weekend we're going Brighton and this weekend we're going to see Tom Rodwell on Friday, Saturday is not my day but I'm working on Saturday night so I'm trying not to let that bother me too much. So Saturday night's alright for fighting, I mean what ever makes her happy, what ever makes it alright. The evening I don't mind so much, but I'm being shoved around on the Saturday day time too which doesn't sit well. Well I can use the time to prepare to Super Picnic Sunday, it's going to be 16C and my plan is to put together some ummig ethical treats that we can bag up and carry on our backs to the heath-via camden so I can get the hair bows I've lusted after for about a fortnight now.
Fried new potatoes and dips, cartons of juice, crisps, sandwiches, salami and posh cheese and maybe a speciality beer or three. Sunshine and grass underfoot, the wind kissing hair and making it tumble, framing faces. Laughter and love, peace and some fun, maybe I'll take my kite or my hula-hoop so we can behave like children for a while. I want it to be special, I want to simply be in love, just for the day.

Happy days

What you drop on the swings you tend to pick up on the roundabout.
Life's a circle and at the moment, I'm up.



"It's ok to be denied but it is not ok to be replaced"

That's enough gloating, it's Tuesday so I should probably tell you about the gig on Friday, it was Reel Big Fish and they played at The Forum, Kentish town. I don't know why but I get really anxious before a planned event, all I have to do is turn up and I know it will be a fun night but all I see are all the 'what ifs' and 'buts' all the bad ones. It's almost like a panic where I want to dig my heels in and utter those infamous words "I don't want to" they had real meaning when I was a teenager, I was stubborn as a mule and once I'd said it-even if I'd changed my mind-would never budge. Anyway, I'm older and although not wiser I'm certainly no where near as stubborn as I was then, so I go and I smile although I feel strange almost frightened for no reason at all. We got here having missed the first support band (we decided thay sounded pretty dire so that was intentional) we were in the upstairs seated area but found a row were there was standing room only and secured our place. The support band 'Suburban Legends' were pretty good, they had lots of energy which is contagious at a gig, it spreads through the audience and even the most uptight people will start to jig about-I know I was one of them (until I found the bar and started seriously drinking). They had some funny little dances and did a cover of the Lion Kings 'I just can't wait to be king' which I thought was a great song and I jumped about loving it not realising it was a cover as I've never seen the Lion King. Watching the discordant dance of the lead singer I notice he has the worst (and only) case of camel toe I have ever seen on a man! There are two girls stood slightyl behind us cracking up and I wonder if that is what they are laughing at. White trousers and camel toe, genius! Laughing makes me want to pee and the toilets at the Forum are a real treat, they smell like coconut and there is no cue, I even have a chioce of cubicle, they all look clean and have toilet paper-that's important to us girllies. I come back to our 'patch' to find Mark swaying in perfect time with two larger girls on his left holding onto the rail in front of them, this makes me smile warmly-I do love him, I realise I whinge, but he has tried so hard since that thing and he's sorry and wants us to be happy again, so we will be, we are-I'm not letting it eat away at me any more. Enough of that, again.

Let me jump forward a bit to RBF they were better than the last time I saw them, I think my panic got the better of me then and I spent most of the evening determined to not have a good time, so I watched the clock. This time I sung, danced and waved my arms about. Standing on Marks left side jabbing the air and pretending to be left handed myself-if I'm going to try it it may as well be at a ska gig-who's going to notice if I'm out of time? Somebody's started a conga line that's going up and down the top ailses so I join on the back gripping some sweaty topless teenager and kicking my legs as we head towards the back bar, the graze and bruise on my knee tells me I fell over and I think this is when it happened but my pickled brain doesn't have this information for certain. The conga turns into a ring of people doing the crazy boy dance ina big circle at the end of the bar, looking down all I see are shoes kicking in time with each other, left right left right. My floral DMs along side Converse and Airwalk and those crappy £5 pumps that seem to be fasionable now. After the song the group disperse back their friends as I walk off I say to a blonde dread locked lad "that was worth joining the conga for!" And it was.

The highlight of the night was RBF's cover of "Nothin but a good time" by LA guns-look it up, it's classic hair metal, it's my all time favourite genre and now it's being covered by a wel repected ska band. I shout the words into the crowd and I seem to be the only person in the room that knows it. I found out later that this is not so, speaking to a bloke on the tier above me we agreed that it was an awsome cover but the young audience had no idea what was going on, we high fived as I said if they played a little skid row we could empty this place, he smiled and went on his merry way with his friend probably looking for more beer.

So we left the Forum, having had a great night and not wanting it to end just yet we (I) stumble into a nearby pub. After the 6 cans of beer I've had at the gig I think I need something lighter-kopperberg will do the trick nicely. There are shelves lining the wall and Mark goes to look at the books and comes back abruptly after spotting Princess Di and Planet Earth and having read the later and having no interest in th firsy decided to call it a day. We plodded onto the tube and got off to change at Kings Cross but although we ran, we got to the platform just in time to see the last Hammersmith & City line train slink through the tunnel. Shit.

So it's an underground/overground journey home for us, but at least I know which bus to get from here. Come th morning I've completely forgotten the journey home and looking at my knee with equal confusion. Mark reminded me and we danced to songs from the lion king around the kitchen/living area. I'm not feeling to shabby considering the alcohol induced memory loss I'm suffering! The best bit of that day was hugging and remembering how and why we first told the other that we love them. On his part it was gestures and patience that paved the way, from me it was his innocence and and the excitement he held.

"When you said 'the ball's in your court' I knew I loved you"

A weekend where I want to be

All of my favourite things and a few surprises! Friday, working late, BUT it was fun. I spent the last 40 minutes or so getting ready to go out with Rhiannon-doing the girly chat thing about make up and dresses, I wouldn't usually admit to liking that sort of thing but no-one reads this so I can on here! That and I haven't done it for such a long time. So I'm made up, smell nice and have a new dress on when Mark comes to pick me up. We have an itinary and the first stop is a restaurant that we used to live near, an old favourite you might say. Baby aubergines all round. Yummy.

We feel full and sleepy, but there's no time for that, we're going to the Gladstone to see Tom Rodwell he's a musician that does blues/gospel/slave songs with a funky twist. The bar was heaving, so we got drinks and fought our way through to a corner at the back where we had a bit of room to dance although I didn't quite have enough room to get into it, being laden with winter coats and bags I knocked someones pint all over someone else, oopsie. They were very nice about it, but I felt terrible and bought another drink for the person who'd lost theirs but could only apologise to the person that was now wearing the original pint.

Dancing, chatting and laughter followed and we left there with big happy grins and not enough alcohol in our systems to slow us down the next day, I've got a surprise to go to!

OK so it may not be the most romantic idea for Valentines day but it suited me just fine. I was surprised with two tickets to go and see a division two team play. Leyton Orient vs Crewe Alexandria. Well, what a match!

I love watching anything live, be it music, sport, plays, ANYTHING. The atmosphere is wonderful and the excitement is contagious, especially when you see a lower division side, the supporters are there through geuine love of the game and their team not glory hunters that follow the big clubs. Plus we couldn't afford to go and see any of the big clubs on a regular basis-there may be a hint of bitterness there, but not alot!

We got there, surprisingly it really did only take the 20 or so minutes the TfL website said it would, consequently we had time to cue up twice before the game, once for the tickets we originally bought and once to change them around for the home supporters area-there was a health and safety issue with that part of the stands. Anyway we got it just as the whistle blew. The North and South stands were singing the football chants and after a while we had picked up the words and were singing too. The O's scored 12 minutes in and I got carried away with it all and jumped up whooping and cheering-ohh, the joy! Crewe scored shortly afterwards and I actually felt a pang of disappointment as the ball hit the net, then jubilation as the whistle went a second time to signal it was disallowed for being offside.

The O's won, 1:0 and the Crewe fans went away without a smile as it probably wasn't a pleasent journey from where ever Crewe is and they just saw their team lose and have a goal disallowed. Gutted.

Well, you may think that this is enough excitement and activity for one weekend, but we're still going! It's on to the Mucky pup to meet Raven and play pool and get Native American spiritual names, I'm Princess Red Sky-I think the 'Princess' part is a little pretencious, but I didn't pick it and Red Sky on it's own souns like the begining of a proverb. Marks is Shining Rain, his mum reminds him later that they used to live in a house called rain sparkle?-I'll have to check that. This bit gets a little blurry because, in keeping with the theme of the weekend, I found my absolute favourite spirit of all time-I really cannot emphasise this enough-Frangelico. Ahhh, that hazel nutty goodness with a kick of fresh lime, it makes me drool! Raven says to me, quite out of the blue "he really loves you, you should keep him, he's got a good aura" I smile and say that I think I might just keep him because I love him hopelessly too.

I am not getting soppy here, besides I'm nearly finished this epic blog post. End of the evening comes and we say our goodbyes, take a weird route home-up to Angel then back on ourselves to Old St get some hot food and wait in a Pret-a-mange doorway to eat it and wait for the bus, an hour later still no bus so we walk. I was looking forward to chatting and listening to music in the kitchen when we got back but we gave up waiting for the bus and walked so we fell into bed and slept through till the afternoon.

Epic weekend, epic blog post, epic treat for me to live up to. Bugger, now what do I follow that lot with?