This is a little out of date now, but it seems such a shame to just delete it so I'll post it here: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