Domestic Depravity

New Blog

2011-01-25T16:23:00.000Z

No Pressure, No Diamonds

Hope to see you there!

Harley xx

ByeBye Blog

2011-01-15T13:23:00.002Z

Hey guys,

I'm closing down this blog. I was going to just delete it on impulse this morning, but I feel like I should explain why first.

This blog is very pink and pretty, but it's not me. I keep myself from posting on anything that wouldn't fit on this blog, and sometimes that happens to be what I most need to write about. Lately I've just been crashing into a huge low; I feel trapped and frustrated in my personal life, completely unattractive, and angry all of the time. I hate feeling like this because it's not my natural state - I think for the most part I'm pretty smiley - but right now I just can't gather the energy to blow away the black clouds, even if the sun is hiding behind them somewhere.

On top of my emotional freefall, I've also been feeling guilty about not having anything to say on this pastel blog of blah. I just feel like it doesn't accurately represent who I am, considering how UNgirly I am. Maybe when I set it up it was more of a reflection of how I'd like to be - simple, uncomplicated, feminine, happy. At the moment though I am feeling like none of the above, and I've started to really resent my poor blameless blog.

So I'm going to start over, see if I can't create a new blog that I can be more open on. Thanks to everybody who followed and commented on this blog, you guys would really make my day. You're wonderful!

I'll see you on the other side!

Love,

Harley xx

Blogger Blight

2011-01-07T20:27:00.000Z

It's amazing how everyone on the interwebs gets felled by the flu at the same time.

I woke up this morning feeling like death, and I now feel like I badly need one of these:

Those Asians; Always ahead of the game!

Before I got the Head Cold from Hell I was already going through a bit of a low buzz - seems like I started 2011 on the wrong foot and have been off balance ever since. To give you some idea of how badly I kicked off the New Year:

I was woken up suddenly in the middle of the night.

By being puked on.

On my face.

ON AND AROUND MY MOUTH.

Yes, it was gross and no, I have not yet fully recovered from the trauma. Let me tell you, no matter how hard you scrub, the memory of beer-flavored puke on and around your mouth lives on. Misery.

Anyway. Today was a No Pants Day and I strongly suspect tomorrow will follow on in this style.

You could either say that Lor has converted me or that the Head Cold has won itself a victim (my pants), and both would be somewhat correct.

I think tonight will be an animated movie night!

Open Letter: 2011

2011-01-06T19:56:00.000Z

Hello 2011,

Please be gentle with me. Just cut me some slack until I get out from under this crazy low.

Yours in hope,

Harley

A Very Merry Unbirthday To Me

2010-12-21T16:01:00.001Z

I have been a bad blogger of late.

But nobody can scold me because it's my birthday week! FINALLY!

When your birthday falls around Christmas time you somehow feel like you have to wait longer than everybody else, and when it eventually comes around you always feel cheated due to most people forgetting because they can only focus on one special occasion at once and OH MY GOD CHRISTMAS IS IN FIVE DAYS ANDTHEYHAVEN'TDONEALLTHEIRSHOPPINGYET! Disaster. Meanwhile we sad Christmas babies are standing in the corner, going, *cough* "it'smybirthday" *cough*.

Yesterday I turned 24 and, with a heavy heart and a leaden step, trudged into my mid-twenties.

BLERGH.

The day had a not-so-promising start; my cat padded up to my pillow and drooled on my face, and then I had to get up early to go to a funeral.

Things picked up though, as it started to SNOW(!!!) for my birthday and the whole city was transformed into an iced cake of a place. My reaction was of course #childlikejoy and #lovingit, and when I got home I got to cuddle the radiator while I crafted a bit (results here). Later on Scrubs came over and surprised me with a bunch of beautiful flowers (white and purple with complimentary GLITTER!) and a (pink!) hard drive so that I can save all of my super extremely important stuff (photos and music) from my Technology-Related Touch of Death. My brother gave me two huge Toblerones, one white and one milk, and we got pizza!

And then, on top of everything else, I got a snowman cake:

Every single year on my birthday I get an iced novelty cake made of sponge, with layers of buttercream and raspberry jam. It's tradition! This one was suitably Christmassy and went well with the blizzard outside!

Now it's my unbirthday and I'm back to being an unbirthday girl, so I want to wish everybody a very happy unbirthday today, and if it IS actually your birthday then a happy actualbirthday to you!

Someone You Didn't Want To Let Go... - Day Nine

2010-12-02T13:27:00.000Z

Someone You Didn't Want To Let Go, But Just Drifted

I don't know if I have enough space for all the people this applies to. If I had my way I'd never let anybody go. I am nostalgia personified. However, there are a special few who stick out:

My best friend Bunny, from when I was in school; he got a girlfriend and suddenly I was brutally dumped. Not only would he not introduce me to this girlfriend, when he was with me and she phoned he would tell her he was with "the lads". Ridiculous behaviour, and when I called him out on it he claimed he had no idea why he'd said that. Even though he behaved like a douche towards the end, it makes me sad to think of what a good friend he was up until that point, and I wish it hadn't gone down like that.

My cousin, who I was tight with until his mother died and suddenly it was like a chasm opened between us. Actually there's more to it than that, including an awkward family moment that makes me angry just thinking about it, but the long and short of it is that we went from hanging out all the time and getting on really well to being virtual strangers. And to be honest it was neither of our faults. The fault lies with someone else and it can't be taken back or fixed now so I'm hoping time will heal the drift.

My friend Lion; our dads were the best of friends and we were too. Then her dad died and it was as if it hurt too much to hang out. I wanted to tell her she could share my dad, but that seemed like a paltry consolation. We drifted apart and now we don't really talk. It makes me sad, and sometimes I really miss her.

Thirty Days of Truth

~~(1)~~ ~~Something you hate about yourself.~~ ~~(2)~~ ~~Something you love about yourself.(3)Something you have to forgive yourself for.~~ (4) ~~Something you have to forgive someone for.~~ ~~(5)Something you hope to do in your life.~~ ~~(6)~~ ~~Something you hope you never have to do~~. ~~(7)Someone who has made your life worth living.~~ ~~(8)~~ ~~Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.~~ (9) Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted. (10)Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know. (11)Something people seem to compliment you the most on. (12) Something you never get compliments on. (13) A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.) (14) A hero that has let you down. (letter) (15) Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it. (16)Someone or something you definitely could live without. (17) A book you’ve read that changed your views on something. (18) Your views on gay marriage. (19)What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?(20)views on drugs and alcohol. (21) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do? (22) Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.(23)Something you wish you had done in your life. (24) Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)(25) The reason you believe you’re still alive today. (26) Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why? (27) What’s the best thing going for you right now? (28) What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?(29) Something you hope to change about yourself. And why. (30) A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself .

Egypt

2010-11-30T15:33:00.000Z

It.
Was.
Awesome.

Queen Hatshepsut dressed up as a man

Me hugging a pyramid

Date palms

The Red Pyramid (we went inside!)

Harley on horseback

The Great Pyramid of Giza and some randomer on a camel

Sphinx

Cardog. Everytime we saw him he was chilling out on the roof of a car.

Obelisk

Egypt was the most amazing holiday - we saw everything, I took 456 photos, ate lovely food, horse-rode around the pyramids and went scuba diving (and oh my God it was so cool! It was like being in a fish tank, or like being inside a nature documentary except with no David Attenborough voiceover). So amazing. When I got out my instructor told me I should get my license as soon as I got a chance because I was a 'natural' and of course after that I was so proud of myself that I kept nudging Scrubs and saying 'did you hear that? He said I was a natural' over and over until he probably wanted to wring my neck.

Since it was my first dive EVAH my instructor was practically glued to me (it's one-on-one; Scrubs already has his license so he just swam alongside us) and every so often I'd see something cool and start gurgling into my regulator and laughing to myself like a crazy person and saying stuff like 'wow!', 'Look! LOOK!', 'that is SO COOL!'or 'hello fish!!', which just came out as bubbles, but I couldn't stop myself... and then afterwards when we were getting out of our gear, my instructor was like 'I could hear you, you know, making all sorts of sounds underwater anytime something caught your eye'. And then I was mortified, but it was alright because he seemed like a very enthusiastic type himself so I think he understood.

Horse-riding around the pyramids was also incredible. I have never felt anything like that before. I was practically delirious with freedom once I got over my SHEER TERROR.

The kid that was our 'guide' (he was about 14 years old) asked if I'd horse-ridden before and I said yes, when I was very young, but never anything over a trot, and I had, you know, riding boots and a helmet and a proper bridle and you know, SOME MEASURE OF SAFETY and he was like "okay, we gallop now. Hold reins with one hand, hold saddle with other. AYEE!"

...And my horse literally SHOT off into a canter, with me clinging on for dear life. Once he gathered himself into a gallop though, it was completely amazing - so easy! I didn't want to stop. Galloping across that sand with one hand gripping the saddle was one of the most amazing things I've ever felt. It was a total headrush. I think the fact that I had no idea what I was doing and had zero safety equipment on me was part of the thrill. Nothing like flirting with sudden death to get make those endorphins come out to play!

Now I'm home and the ground is thick with snow outside, and I'm huddled next to a fire while I type this out. I feel like I've been flung headfirst into Christmas, and it is MOTHERFUCKING COLD.

But whatever. I love Christmas! Bring it on!

Guess Where I'll Be...

2010-11-15T12:05:00.000Z

... for the next two weeks?

I give you my permission to be jealous!

MWUAH!

Someone Who Treated You Like Shit - Day Eight

2010-11-11T20:47:00.001Z

Someone Who Treated You Like Shit

WELL since I don't want to talk about my mother twice....!

Just kidding.

Sort of.

I guess it's time for the Dreaded Ex post. Stereotypical as it may be, my ex treated me like shit, and then we broke up, and I found a really nice guy and live happily ever after.

What? Not ESCANDALO! enough for you?

Well, a long, long, three-and-a-half-year long story short; he put me down all the time, did things to me that are so humiliating I'm not going to write them here, would pinch and twist the skin of my arm if I did something he didn't approve of, was insanely jealous, would decide on my wardrobe (I should really just write 'was a borderline psychotic control-freak' and be done with it), would lie constantly, and cheated on me with my best friend.

Goodbye best friend. Goodbye boyfriend.

I read somewhere that "if you have someone who is willing to go through hell for you, you should do whatever you can to keep them". And I thought... that's fair enough. I feel like he PUT me through hell for him, and in fact, when I broke up with him he whined 'I warned you I could be a dick sometimes and you promised you'd never leave me!" and all I could do was gape at him and think 'Within fucking REASON!'

Later, I came across a scene in Gossip Girl (I know!) and smiled wryly in recognition of those feelings of having been treated completely like shit - the rage and overwhelming sadness - and of him still, still! trying to manipulate you into forgiving him.

Chuck: “The worst thing I ever did, the darkest thought I ever had.” You said you would stand by me through anything. This, Blair, is “anything.”

Blair: I never thought that the worst thing you would ever do would be to me!

True dat.

Thirty Days of Truth

~~(1)~~ ~~Something you hate about yourself.~~ ~~(2)~~ ~~Something you love about yourself.(3)Something you have to forgive yourself for.~~ (4) ~~Something you have to forgive someone for.~~ ~~(5)~~ ~~Something you hope to do in your life.~~ ~~(6)~~ ~~Something you hope you never have to do~~. ~~(7)~~ ~~Someone who has made your life worth living.~~ ~~(8)~~ ~~Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.~~ (9) Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted. (10)Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know. (11)Something people seem to compliment you the most on. (12) Something you never get compliments on. (13) A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.) (14) A hero that has let you down. (letter) (15) Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it. (16)Someone or something you definitely could live without. (17) A book you’ve read that changed your views on something. (18) Your views on gay marriage. (19) What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?(20)views on drugs and alcohol. (21) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do? (22) Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.(23) Something you wish you had done in your life. (24) Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)(25) The reason you believe you’re still alive today. (26) Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why? (27) What’s the best thing going for you right now? (28) What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?(29) Something you hope to change about yourself. And why. (30) A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself .

Better Bloggers Than Singers...

2010-11-10T11:25:00.000Z

Today is the day!

The Day!!!

I know, you're excited too. Today is the day a bunch of bloggers from 20sb get together to sing songs from the 1990s and post them on each others' blogs. The hilarious Nipples McGee (aka Sara Swearsalot - on whose blog I will be singing my own drunken version of the Backstreet Boys) organised it so now we've all had a chance to humiliate ourselves in semi-public.

Like musically incapacitated, mostly inebriated peons of the modern age.

I was lucky, I caught me a BOY! We all know how rare that is in the blogosphere. They're like damn narwhals; you've heard that they're out there, but actually coming across one is a damn sight more difficult than it should be.

Well, the boy whose (amazing) vlogeoke I get to post on my blog is Lost from You Know What Really Grinds My Gears!

And I don't want to get anybody too excited - yeah, a single girl riot of horny hormones, that's all that I need - but he is very fucking cute. Blogger eyecandy. And what's more, I went to visit his blog and he's funny and intelligent as well, not just a pretty face that sings about peaches! I know, I know, I just introduced most of you to your new blog crush, didn't I? You're welcome.

Bloggies and bloggermen, I give you.... Lost!

"Lost" singing: Peaches - The Presidents of the United States of America from Danger Mouse on Vimeo.

Someone Who Has Made Your Life Worth Living - Day Seven

2010-11-09T15:31:00.002Z

Someone Who Has Made Your Life Worth Living

Okay, really, this is the toughest one yet. I don't need another person to make my life worth living! My life is worth living all by itself! I am the person who makes my life worth living!

I assume they're asking for me to write about someone who makes my life better, and in a cheesy, predictable turn of events I'd have to say that that would be Scrubs. There are a lot of people who make my life better, but the person I spend the most time with outside of my immediate family (and sometimes even including them) would be Scrubs.

Of course, since I don't want to sound like a big sap I'm going to talk about the other amazing person in my life; my brother.

We're not alike in any way that matters - he's a responsible hot-head, I'm a laid-back procrastinator - but we're all each other has got and he's really great. Even though he's younger than me he acts (and looks) older, and I'm so proud of him for doing all the things that he's done. He's taught street children in Delhi and Mombasa, he's seen the Taj Mahal and walked along the Great Wall of China. He's ridden on horseback over the plains of Mongolia and shopped in the markets of Beijing. He's seen the Colosseum in Rome and the vineyards in France. We went to Morocco together and explored it, and didn't have a single argument for the whole holiday.

He's always full of good advice (even if I don't always take it).

He's great. He's an amazing brother.

Thirty Days of Truth

~~(1)~~ ~~Something you hate about yourself.~~ ~~(2)~~ ~~Something you love about yourself.~~ ~~(3)Something you have to forgive yourself for.~~ (4) ~~Something you have to forgive someone for.~~ ~~(5)~~ ~~Something you hope to do in your life.~~ ~~(6)~~ ~~Something you hope you never have to do~~. ~~(7)~~ ~~Someone who has made your life worth living.~~ (8) Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit. (9) Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted. (10) Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know. (11)Something people seem to compliment you the most on. (12) Something you never get compliments on. (13) A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.) (14) A hero that has let you down. (letter) (15) Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it. (16)Someone or something you definitely could live without. (17) A book you’ve read that changed your views on something. (18) Your views on gay marriage. (19) What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics? (20)views on drugs and alcohol. (21) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do? (22) Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.(23) Something you wish you had done in your life. (24) Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)(25) The reason you believe you’re still alive today. (26) Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why? (27) What’s the best thing going for you right now? (28) What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do? (29) Something you hope to change about yourself. And why. (30) A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself .

Something You Hope You Never Have To Do - Day Six

2010-11-08T16:48:00.000Z

Something You Hope You Never Have To Do

...And back to the doom and gloom! This Thirty Days of Truth business is like a rollercoaster ride!

Well. I hope I never have to watch somebody I love suffer.

That's a given though, right? And probably inescapable, unless I die young enough to avoid the ensuing years of people I know getting cancer (you know it's going to happen) and relatives getting old etc. etc.

Today I was in the hospital (not for any particular reason, don't worry - was just walking around) and saw some people with heartbreak etched on their faces, pushing around relatives or friends in wheelchairs, their every movement marked by grief. And in the air around them you can practically smell the fear. I hope I am never in that position, with the pendulum swinging above a loved one, not knowing when it might drop and slice their life apart. Slice my life apart. Our life.

I hope I never have to sit by helplessly while somebody I love shoulders mountains of pain and suffering. I hope I never have to bury someone I love.

Now. How morbid was that?

Thirty Days of Truth

~~(1)~~ ~~Something you hate about yourself.~~ ~~(2)~~ ~~Something you love about yourself.~~ ~~(3)Something you have to forgive yourself for.~~ (4) ~~Something you have to forgive someone for.~~ ~~(5)~~ ~~Something you hope to do in your life.~~ ~~(6)~~ ~~Something you hope you never have to do~~. (7) Someone who has made your life worth living for. (8) Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit. (9) Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted. (10) Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know. (11)Something people seem to compliment you the most on. (12) Something you never get compliments on. (13) A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.) (14) A hero that has let you down. (letter) (15) Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it. (16)Someone or something you definitely could live without. (17) A book you’ve read that changed your views on something. (18) Your views on gay marriage. (19) What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics? (20)views on drugs and alcohol. (21) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do? (22) Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.(23) Something you wish you had done in your life. (24) Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)(25) The reason you believe you’re still alive today. (26) Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why? (27) What’s the best thing going for you right now? (28) What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do? (29) Something you hope to change about yourself. And why. (30) A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself .

Something You Hope To Do In Your Life - Day Five

2010-11-05T18:19:00.000Z

Something You Hope To Do In Your Life

Seriously? I'm only on day five?

*sigh*

Well at least this one is more upbeat. I was beginning to sound like some useless malcontent.

I hope to write a book. Is that terribly cliched? The blogger who wants to write a book? Well let me put your mind at ease - I don't wish to write anything pretentious or autobiographical. I want to write young adult stuff. Or even children's books (but only if I get to draw the pictures). I want to write mad fantastical stories that transport the reader into a different world. When I was young, I used to sit on the windowsill in school and just devour books. In fact, the thing I remember being most hurt by in my younger years was when a girl in my class laughed at me and said 'Harley's going to marry a book when she grows up!' which, to be honest, is a rubbish jibe, but at the time I was mortified because I did actually spend more time with books than with people and I think a small part of me actually believed her.

Don't judge. I was about 8 years old and my best friend was a slobbery dog.

Anyway.

I would like to give a child the same experience I got when I was little from reading... Enid Blyton's The Famous Five, and all the Nina Bawden books, and later Phillip Pullman's His Dark Materials and Garth Nix's The Old Kingdom series... Melvin Burgess's Bloodtide... All those books that I'd get lost in.

I'd love to do that for someone someday.

Thirty Days of Truth

~~(1)~~ ~~Something you hate about yourself.~~ ~~(2)~~ ~~Something you love about yourself.~~ ~~(3)Something you have to forgive yourself for.~~ (4) ~~Something you have to forgive someone for.~~ ~~(5)~~ ~~Something you hope to do in your life.~~ (6) Something you hope you never have to do. (7) Someone who has made your life worth living for. (8) Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit. (9) Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted. (10) Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know. (11)Something people seem to compliment you the most on. (12) Something you never get compliments on. (13) A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.) (14) A hero that has let you down. (letter) (15) Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it. (16)Someone or something you definitely could live without. (17) A book you’ve read that changed your views on something. (18) Your views on gay marriage. (19) What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics? (20)views on drugs and alcohol. (21) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do? (22) Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.(23) Something you wish you had done in your life. (24) Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)(25) The reason you believe you’re still alive today. (26) Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why? (27) What’s the best thing going for you right now? (28) What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do? (29) Something you hope to change about yourself. And why. (30) A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself .

Something You Have To Forgive Someone For - Day Four

2010-11-04T18:25:00.000Z

When I started this Thirty Days thing, I had no idea it was going to turn out so gloomy! Sorry about this! I shall forge ahead and hopefully it'll be over before I know it!

Something You Have To Forgive Someone For

In an ongoing battle against myself, I feel like I need to forgive my mother for being my mother. Sometimes I feel like I do forgive her, but then she'll do/say something else to make me lose it and the cycle starts all over again.

My mother is like a child, and being her daughter is exhausting. She has never shown any sort of maternal instinct or motherly affection, and she has had a big effect on my life.

When I see mothers stroke their daughter's hair, or see mothers and daughters shopping or chatting over a coffee I have to swallow down my envy and disappointment (and sometimes tears). My heart aches when I think about what it would mean to have a real mother who supports you and is there for you and loves you unconditionally. I can't verbalise the jealousy I feel when I'm around real families.

My mother makes my life difficult. She also makes her own life difficult, and we both know this, so I find it hard to stay angry with her.

I do feel like I've missed out though, and I know I have to forgive her for that because it's not really even her fault... But I find it really hard.

Thirty Days of Truth

~~(1)~~ ~~Something you hate about yourself.~~ ~~(2)~~ ~~Something you love about yourself.~~ ~~(3)Something you have to forgive yourself for.~~ (4) ~~Something you have to forgive someone for.~~ (5) Something you hope to do in your life. (6) Something you hope you never have to do. (7) Someone who has made your life worth living for. (8) Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit. (9) Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted. (10) Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know. (11)Something people seem to compliment you the most on. (12) Something you never get compliments on. (13) A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.) (14) A hero that has let you down. (letter) (15) Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it. (16)Someone or something you definitely could live without. (17) A book you’ve read that changed your views on something. (18) Your views on gay marriage. (19) What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics? (20)views on drugs and alcohol. (21) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do? (22) Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.(23) Something you wish you had done in your life. (24) Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)(25) The reason you believe you’re still alive today. (26) Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why? (27) What’s the best thing going for you right now? (28) What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do? (29) Something you hope to change about yourself. And why. (30) A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself .

Something You Have To Forgive Yourself For - Day Three

2010-11-03T22:54:00.001Z

Something You Have To Forgive Yourself For

Oh... This is going to be short and concise, because it hurts.

When I was in secondary school (high school to you yanks), I had an incredible English teacher. She was a mentor to me, and I looked up to her like you cannot imagine. I leaned on her as if she were my mother. I did everything I could to impress her. She pushed me to be better, to be smarter, to be... more. When I finished school, I returned a year and a half later to visit her. I felt bad that it had taken me so long, but I was a coward and really didn't want to see anybody else in the school other than her, so I'd been putting it off.

Anyway, that day, when I finally went in, she was out sick. So I decided I would write her a letter.

Two pages into the letter thanking her for how much she had changed me and shaped me, I received a text message telling me she had been found dead in her house, and that she had been dead for seven days.

I cannot forgive myself for not getting in touch with her sooner. For not telling her how much she meant to me.

Just writing this makes my chest tight.

Thirty Days of Truth

~~(1)~~ ~~Something you hate about yourself.~~ ~~(2)~~ ~~Something you love about yourself.~~ ~~(3)Something you have to forgive yourself for.~~ (4) Something you have to forgive someone for. (5) Something you hope to do in your life. (6) Something you hope you never have to do. (7) Someone who has made your life worth living for. (8) Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit. (9) Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted. (10) Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know. (11)Something people seem to compliment you the most on. (12) Something you never get compliments on. (13) A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.) (14) A hero that has let you down. (letter) (15) Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it. (16)Someone or something you definitely could live without. (17) A book you’ve read that changed your views on something. (18) Your views on gay marriage. (19) What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics? (20)views on drugs and alcohol. (21) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do? (22) Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.(23) Something you wish you had done in your life. (24) Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)(25) The reason you believe you’re still alive today. (26) Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why? (27) What’s the best thing going for you right now? (28) What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do? (29) Something you hope to change about yourself. And why. (30) A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself .

Thirty Days of Truth - Day Two

2010-11-02T18:31:00.000Z

Something You Love About Yourself

What do I love about myself?

I love that I can dream the way I do. I have dreams that are like movies - complex, detailed dreams with plots and motives and characters. There are sounds and smells and tastes and textures. Sometimes I have lucid dreams, where I can decide my own actions. None of them are random, disjointed, fragmented dreams - they all feel entirely real. I feel exactly as I would if they were to happen here in the real world, and usually the feelings follow through after I wake up.

Sometimes this is a bad thing, because it means I can't shake off a nightmare even after I've woken up. Or it means that particularly traumatic dreams are horribly, perfectly real and leave me feeling devastated and exhausted. But I wouldn't give up my dreaming capabilities for the world. My nightlife brings me to amazing places; intricate sets that my mind creates (seemingly) effortlessly. I feel lucky to see these places even if it's only in my dreams.

I'll happily take the bad so I can have the good.

Thirty Days of Truth

~~(1)~~ ~~Something you hate about yourself.~~ ~~(2)~~ ~~Something you love about yourself.~~ (3)Something you have to forgive yourself for. (4) Something you have to forgive someone for. (5) Something you hope to do in your life. (6) Something you hope you never have to do. (7) Someone who has made your life worth living for. (8) Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit. (9) Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted. (10) Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know. (11)Something people seem to compliment you the most on. (12) Something you never get compliments on. (13) A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.) (14) A hero that has let you down. (letter) (15) Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it. (16)Someone or something you definitely could live without. (17) A book you’ve read that changed your views on something. (18) Your views on gay marriage. (19) What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics? (20)views on drugs and alcohol. (21) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do? (22) Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.(23) Something you wish you had done in your life. (24) Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)(25) The reason you believe you’re still alive today. (26) Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why? (27) What’s the best thing going for you right now? (28) What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do? (29) Something you hope to change about yourself. And why. (30) A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself .

Thirty Days of Truth - Day One

2010-11-01T20:10:00.000Z

Something you hate about yourself

Jesus fucking Christ, right in there with the negatives! Why not?!

Okay.

Do I really have to only pick one? I don't think that's possible...

I hate that I don't know what I want. I hate that I have no clear goal to work towards. I hate that I put up with an awful relationship for a long time. I hate that I let that awful relationship have repercussions on my life even now. I hate that I never learned an instrument. I hate that I can be selfish. I hate how clumsy I am. I hate that I can be weak and non-confrontational. I hate how guilty I feel when I do something that goes against the wishes of somebody else. I hate how stupid I feel sometimes. I hate that I can get horribly insecure. I hate that five years out of school I'm in first year college. I hate how moody I can get and how sometimes I'll pick a fight because I feel like a little monster and just want somebody to shake me and make me feel sane again.

And then hug me.

Thirty Days of Truth

~~(1)~~ ~~Something you hate about yourself.~~ (2) Something you love about yourself. (3)Something you have to forgive yourself for. (4) Something you have to forgive someone for. (5) Something you hope to do in your life. (6) Something you hope you never have to do. (7) Someone who has made your life worth living for. (8) Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit. (9) Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted. (10) Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know. (11)Something people seem to compliment you the most on. (12) Something you never get compliments on. (13) A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.) (14) A hero that has let you down. (letter) (15) Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it. (16)Someone or something you definitely could live without. (17) A book you’ve read that changed your views on something. (18) Your views on gay marriage. (19) What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics? (20)views on drugs and alcohol. (21) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do? (22) Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.(23) Something you wish you had done in your life. (24) Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)(25) The reason you believe you’re still alive today. (26) Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why? (27) What’s the best thing going for you right now? (28) What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do? (29) Something you hope to change about yourself. And why. (30) A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself .

Raising The Bar

2010-10-27T16:00:00.000+01:00

I've been examining my Halloween costumes through the years and have made an alarming discovery.

They've been steadily more shit as time wears on.

To illustrate this fact, I've gathered up some old school photos so you can see what a rad Halloween-er I used to be:

My first and last time being a LAAADY.

My brother, the politically incorrect karate kid, and Harley the painted Indian.
I mean Native American.

My brother (in a costume he would revisit in later years), me as a frightening version of Cleopatra
and my Dad, the Scream killer.

As a family, we made quite the effort at Halloween. My dad would carve the pumpkin, and my brother and I would pick a costume and take it ALL THE WAY.

As I've grown older though, I've forgotten the joys of gluing my skin together with Loctite as I stick yet another sequin onto my eyemask. I've forgotten how proud I felt after making a truly awesome costume. Apart from the Jersey Shore mess (which you guys helped out on) and my genie costume, it's been a long time since I've nailed a costume.

You guys did good with this one!

I was going to insert a picture of Genie Harley here, but it's a bit too revealing, so I'm leaving it out. SORRY!! I know you guys only come to see boobs.

I am so disappointing.

Instead I'll show you the werewolf look I helped my brother accomplish a couple of years ago when he decided it was time to go for the hirsute look once again:

Rarr.

Doesn't he look fetching?

You can't deny it, we're a good lookin' family.

So yeah, this year I plan on stepping my game up and putting together an awesome costume. One to continue the tradition that was so brutally crushed in my teenage years!

Wish me luck!

I Don't Miss Being Single

2010-10-26T21:34:00.002+01:00

Boys and girls, today's class will be on the topic of Chat-Up Lines.

Specifically, the worst chat-up line I have ever heard.

I realise that many men and women out there find it hard to break the ice with the opposite sex, and that many men in particular find it hard to "seal the deal", as it were. For men (with the rare exception), getting an attractive, moderately-sober woman with half a cerebrum into bed after a chance meeting at a club is at about the same level of difficulty as trying to fell an elephant using only a twig and a whistle.

Meanwhile, for women (with the rare exception), getting laid is usually just a question of saying "let's fuck" to the nearest available male.

Keeping this in mind, let's consider this scenario:

A girl goes on a Girls Night Out with six or seven friends (all female). They show up at a club and sit together at a table, fending off unwanted attention. One particular man, however, insists on inserting himself between the girl and her friends. When the friends try to extricate her, he puts an arm around her shoulder and insists he just wants a photo. When the photo is taken, he comments continuously on what an attractive couple they make.

At this point, the girl's patience is wearing thin. From the very beginning she has been polite, but markedly unsubtle about her disinterest, persistently using the phrase "sorry, I'm just here with my friends...?" and trying to ease around him. Mister Man is having none of it, offering to buy her drinks ("no thanks"), asking her questions (monosyllabic answers) and generally showing that he's spent just a bit too much time studying his paperback edition of The Game.

Eventually, the girl's disinterest is too much for even Mister Man to ignore, and all of a sudden the genial smiley facade snaps. Grabbing her by the arm on her thirty fifth attempt to get around him, he brings his face right down into hers and says, "Look, I'm an architect and I have a house on Fitzwilliam Square, it's not like you're not going to get any better than that."

Let's examine that gem of a line again, shall we?

"Look, I'm an architect and I have a house on Fitzwilliam Square, it's not like you're not going to get any better than that."

As you might have guessed, I was the unfortunate girl in this story. As the recipient of this line, I have to admit that rather than make me throw myself at him in a frenzy of lust, the line had the opposite effect; my legs snapped shut reflexively, padlocked themselves shut and sent my vagina on holiday as an extra security measure.

Handing Mister Man my drink (water), I smiled insincerely and said, "excuse me for just one moment".

Then I walked outside, hailed a taxi and went home.

As I sat in the taxi, kicking the seat in front of me in single-girl frustration, I wondered what Mister Man had been expecting when he pulled that clanger out of his back pocket. Did he think I would lean heavily against him, flutter my eyelashes and say, in a throaty whisper, "well in that case, big boy, take me home"? Did he think his modest mention of his career and choice of abode would make me swoon and spread my legs? Has that line ever worked for him? Ever? In his entire existence post-puberty?

And if so, on WHO?

Discuss.

There's Always One

2010-10-25T17:04:00.000+01:00

About two years ago, I worked as a temporary receptionist in a large building that housed four or five companies. I actually quite liked it there - there wasn't much to do so I had a chance to chat to people who came in, and the people working there were all very friendly.

Some, a little too friendly....

On the ground floor of the building there was a Driving Test Center. Most of the people coming into the building were coming to take their driving tests, and with the exception of one or two handing-me-their-number-on-a-scrap-of-paper chancers I had no awkward moments with any of these; to be honest they were all too terrified about their upcoming test to pay me any attention.

But the driving examiners were all men. And they were all comfortably over the age of forty. And they all loved me.

Which I had no problems with.

And one of them was a lecherous pervert.

Which I had a slight problem with.

Not only was he about seventy years old, but he was married and had been so for about fifty years. His creepy comments started (relatively) innocently enough; when I would walk into their office to hand them a form, he would compliment me and say things like, "You're a gorgeous young thing. I think you should be my very own personal secretary - come over here and sit on my lap and I'll tell you a story"

Which, as sexy lines go, could have been better. You may be surprised to hear that I did not, in fact, leap into his lap and stick my tongue down his throat. Instead, I laughed nervously and walked out, rolling my eyes.

These comments snowballed into lewd invitations that I had no idea what to do with. Comments such as "do your driving test with me, darling - if you let me have my way with you in the car park for five minutes, I'll give you your driving license even if you can't start the fucking car".

And every so often (if I got really lucky) on Fridays, he would approach my desk, lean over it, look at me over the top of his glasses and say "I'm going away for the weekend with the missus."

"That's nice" I'd say.

"The whole time I'll be doing her I'll just be thinking of you. She'll have the best sex of her life."

".............."

I have no idea what he was angling for. About a year ago I received an e-mail from him wondering how I was, saying that he missed me.

I didn't reply.

Of course, he's definitely not the only handful I've met in all my job-jumping.

When I was a legal secretary, I was introduced (by my boss) to a colleague of his - a well-known lawyer. He was good-looking, smart and charismatic. He was also about ten years older than me. He took my number because he had to contact me about something work-related and later in the week texted me showing interest. I politely responded by telling him that I had a boyfriend, and that in any case I didn't think it would be wise due to the age-gap, before he replied with this gem:

You're a cheeky girl to tease an old man about his age. I'm going to have to take you over my knee and spank you with my slipper for being such a little brat. I'll pull up your skirt and spank you until your ass is red while I'm wearing my dressing gown in front of the fire.

I can't say I was expecting that.

To be clear, I had met this man once, for ten minutes, and we had been conversing in a polite, semi-professional manner up until this moment.

I have no idea what the thought processes are behind these sort of comments, but I do know they make me want to slap on a chastity belt made of reinforced steel.

I have so many other stories; the creep who would spend all day, every day leaning on my desk gazing into my eyes and giving me CDs... the bigger creep who persistently asked me to go on dirty weekends with him even though he knew I had a boyfriend and he himself had a fiancée... the man who would phone every day from abroad and stay on the phone for about forty five minutes because he "liked the sound of my voice"... Jesus. It's like I collect them.

After working in about a dozen different places, the only thing I can say with absolute certainty is...

There's always one.

My Head Cold is Like This Eagle....

2010-10-21T22:02:00.000+01:00

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh

2010-10-21T00:05:00.000+01:00

Things I did today

Made banana bread.
Ate a lemon.
Sneezed seven times in a row.

Having a head cold does not bring out the most productive side of me..

Worries and Fears

2010-10-18T20:22:00.000+01:00

This past weekend was so disastrous that I would like to skip merrily by and not dwell on it, but try as I might everything I type leads back to it.

Or at least, a part of it.

When bad things happen to people I love, I get scared. Mostly I get scared for them, because I never know how they're going to cope. But a part of me also gets scared for me, because - selfishly - I fear I'm going to lose them.

It's happened before; people I'm close to have something awful happen to them, and then afterwards, as if seeing me reminds them of that hard time, they just... distance themselves. It hurts. It hurts to watch a friend go through something awful, and then to lose them afterwards.

At the weekend I found out something awful has happened to a friend of mine, and it terrified me. All I could think was 'it's going to happen again. I'm going to lose him'. And that is an unforgivably selfish thought. I love him though. To bits and pieces. He's just one of those people. You know those people that you are connected to whether you like it or not? At one point in our lives I even tried to turn it into something more, thinking that it only made sense to take it further.

But it didn't. It didn't make sense.

So we stayed friends. Friends forever, as he puts it "whether we like it or not".

"You know we'll still be friends when we're forty" he said once. "We'll still be seeing each other every Christmas. Whether we like it or not".

And knowing that makes me feel safe. And knowing he hurts makes me hurt. I can feel a tightness in my chest when I think about it. I want him to come over so I can nag him about something, and he can be cocky and infuriating and then I can smack him and get angry and he can laugh at me and then we can play singstar together.

We rock at singstar.

But now everything is wrong. And he's in the middle of this... complete nightmare and I can't help him. And singstar probably won't help. And what if I lose him?

What if I lose him?

Halloween is Comin', Halloween is Comin'...

2010-10-14T19:24:00.000+01:00

You can sing that to the tune of the Coca Cola "holidays are comin'" jingle and it works pretty well...

Halloween (and the accompanying sugar coma and excuse to dress up) is right around the corner and I have no idea what I'm going to wear yet. I have a few ideas, but I haven't made up my mind.

Recently I've noticed quite a bit of anti-Halloween sentiment about the place; Halloween Grinches.

It started in Spain, just before the wedding, when I gave my cousin's two daughters (the cutest girls in the world) a pack of stickers that I'd brought them from Ireland. They were cutesy pop-out stickers of black screeching cats, ghosts, castles and pumpkins. I gave them the stickers and went on my way. About five minutes later, my brother saw them and said to them "Oh hey, halloween stickers! Do you guys like halloween?" and before they'd opened their little mouths my cousin's husband (their father) - who is Opus Dei - snapped "we don't celebrate Halloween".

When I heard this I was... fuming, actually. Excuse me, what?! WHY? What's objectionable about a holiday that was originally an Irish harvest festival and was later married with the Christian holiday All Saints Day? What's wrong with an excuse to dress up and have fun and get free chocolate?

Even now I'm getting pissed off at all the parents that won't let their children participate in such a fucking awesome holiday.

Free sweets. FREE!!! Sweets!! And sometimes free money. Seriously, what is not to love? And even if you're a shy kid (as I once was), who cares because on that night, you're BATMAN!/Cleopatra/a princess/a cat, and nobody will know any different (okay, they might, but they won't let on).

I was so outraged on their behalf that I almost took it up with him, before other members of my family dissuaded me from giving him the verbal smackdown he so richly deserved.

In case you didn't know, Halloween was originally a Celtic harvest festival. Back in the day before St Patrick, we poor Irish pagans had our own holidays and this was one of them. Then St Patrick came along and banished the snakes and brought in Christianity (but that's a whole other blog post), and the leaders of Christianity thought "well, we better make them forget that they used to have holidays that weren't about Jesus", so they decided to crash the party, take over the Celtic harvest festival, and name it All Saint's Day.

This day was supposed to be a day for revering dead saints, but of course the Irish decided to do things their way and sort of... reshaped it... until it was a holiday for revering all dead ancestors. Foodstuffs were left on the doorsteps for the ghosts of the deceased, since it was thought that if they weren't happy they would bring bad luck on the house (this is where 'trick or treat!' comes from). People also thought that on this night, the barriers between the world of the living and the world of the dead (hell) were weaker and so bad things would pass through. The idea to dress up was as a disguise, to blend in with the ghosts and ghouls that were roaming the earth on the night.

So okay, no, it's not the most religious holiday we've got. But I still don't really understand the backlash against this holiday, even among the religious. None of it, not even the origin, is in direct conflict with the ideas of the Catholic church. And particularly nowadays, when all it is really is an excuse to have a party. What's the big deal?

Anyway. That's the history lesson for the day. Anyone have any preference for my costume?

1. Harley Quinn, my namesake and a funny, bouncy character. Kind of tough costume though...

2. Medusa - I like the snakes in the hair thing, but I'm not sure about the body part. Ireland is a bit cold for a toga in October/November....

3. Any other suggestions?

A Perfect Day

2010-10-13T19:27:00.000+01:00

If today were a perfect day, I would be getting a deep, slightly-painful shoulder massage as I type. I would look amazing (but natural because I don't wear make-up on a day to day basis and my perfect day does not include spending an hour caking my face in an unbreathable mask of gunky crap). I would be warm and maybe sitting in front of a fire. With marshmallows. I'd have been brought flowers during the day - nothing crazy, just something like daisies to cheer me up - and somebody would be making me hot chocolate. And my ereader would be working perfectly.

Of course, since today has been nothing like that, I'm wearing fingerless gloves indoors so I can have warm hands AND type at the same time, I'm in a grey velour track-suit that makes me look like the Michelin Man in grey, and I hurt all over. And my ereader is still on the fritz.

Bugger.

What I need is a heavy-duty painkiller, please and thank you very much. Masseuse schmasseuse. Just put the nurofen extra-plus-times-infinity in my hand and leave.

I know I'm cranky today. I'm cranky because I'm sore and my shoulders are just one Quasimodo's hunch of tension and there's still flecks of egg gaily decorating the microwave's every orifice.

I want a perfect day and instead I have PMS.

God. Damn. It.

Electrical Difficulties

2010-10-13T01:51:00.000+01:00

Today was a bad day for me and my electronic appliances. It got so bad that after lunch and my unfortunate microwave incident I gave up and turned to exercise (EXERCISE! ME!) just to escape from the curse. To recap, since I woke up this morning;

1. My ereader quit on me. I don't know what's going on with it but it's thrown a tantrum of epic proportions and refuses to let me read it or charge it or anything.

2. My iPod wiped itself of all and any music and then dug its heels in and refused to be synced with my computer, which means a total lack of tunes.

3. I exploded an egg in the microwave (don't ask). There are now little bitty pieces of egg tucked into every vent and grill in that stupid metal box. These will probably catch on fire next time I go to grill something. I'm considering posting a warning sign.

4. When I turned to my laptop to finish the riveting (trashy) book I'd been reading on my ereader before it shut itself off in a huff, I got to page 622 before it just... ended. Right before the climax. IT JUST ENDED. That's like 622 pages of literary foreplay and no orgasm.

So I did some yoga. Which let me tell you, looks like airy fairy nonsense but is actually hard as hell. I was trembling all over by the end of it. "Now feel the energy radiate from your core as we get ready..." is just another way of saying "And now, MORE sit-ups!" I did about five and then burst out an expletive and lay panting and quivering on the mat.

The only easy part about yoga is that after all that ridiculously easy-looking, deceptively-evil exercise they have those five minutes or whatever it is of lying down imagining you're on an island/ in a field/ in the sea, which, admittedly, is airy fairy but at that stage you're so knackered you're just relieved to be lying down.

I just wish they'd change the name of it. I feel like such a prat when I say I do yoga. Maybe I should just pretend I do kick-boxing instead. It can be a code name. From now on any time I've been doing yoga, I'll just say I've been doing kick-boxing. That sounds way more badass. Although if I'm ever attacked, I don't think my warrior pose is going to be as much use as if I'd actually done kick-boxing.

Anyway. I think I have things under control now. I wrestled my ereader into submission by using a PSP charger, and it's now glowing at me from across the room. My iPod is a work in progress - it says it's syncing but after half an hour it says it's finished and just says 'no music', which... well... FUCK YOU.

I actually wanted to talk about all the anti-Halloween sentiment I've been feeling recently, but instead I ended up with no music, no ebooks, and egg all over the place.

Maybe it's a sign.

I Made A Friend Today

2010-10-11T22:36:00.000+01:00

I had my fourth first day of college today.

I sat in the classroom feeling tired and old as the room filled up with 17 year olds, and was a bit disconcerted to find a lean, angular boy making his way into the seat beside me. I side-eyed him while he openly stared at me. There was an awkward moment of silence as I debated whether or not I should say something.

"Hi!" he said eventually, when it was obvious I wasn't going to be forthcoming with any sort of an introduction. "My name's ________" (for the sake of this post I'll call him Hans).

Hans is a sweet, funny seventeen year old who speaks fluent German and if I had to sum him up in one word, that word would be persistent.

He chatted to me all through class. He chatted to me after class. When I tried to make an escape ("I'm just gonna go to the shop to buy some food, I'm starving") he was right beside me every step of the way ("yeah, okay let's go to the shop!"). He chatted to me through our one hour break. He chatted to me on the way to next class. He chatted to me all through that class.

Somewhere between our first class and our last class together, I relaxed and stopped being such a bitch. Annoyance turned slowly to amusement. It's not his fault I'm 23 and in first year. It's not his fault that just talking to him makes me feel old. I should feel glad that he made the effort to be friendly - it would be that much more awkward if I didn't know anybody in my class.

After class I gave him my number and noticed his fingers shaking as he entered the number in his phone. I thought about what it would be like to be seventeen again and shuddered.

He texted me about two hours later, lamenting the fact that it will be 48 hours before we see each other again.

For a first day back at college, it wasn't so bad.

Unsalted Butter

2010-10-06T15:23:00.000+01:00

Unsalted butter,

What is the point of you?

You just make me add

That much more salt

To my corn on the cob,

And then I feel

Hopelessly

Unhealthy.

So piss off.

AWOL

2010-10-02T10:02:00.001+01:00

In Spain, at a wedding - will be back on Monday!

Hope you're all having a great week!

xxx

A Bit of a Grumble

2010-09-21T23:48:00.001+01:00

Grumble.

Grumblegrumble grumble grumblegrumblegrumble grumblegrumble grumble.

GRUMBLE!

Grumble, grumblegrumblegrumble grumble grumble grumblegrumble.

Grumble grumble, grumblegrumblegrumble grumble.

Tag Rugby

2010-09-16T23:37:00.000+01:00

I got tagged by the awesome Ang from Football, Sushi and the Pursuit of Happiness, and although I hate a lot of these because the questions on some of them can be nail-pullingly mundane, I actually really liked this one! So consider yourself tagged, because it's fun to do and you know you want to. Okay, here we go, 16 questions...:

1. What kind of hair(color/cut) have you always wanted but never had the nerve to do it?
I always wanted to try getting a peroxide pixie cut. Never mind that I have neither the face nor the frame to pull it off, it's just one of those hairstyles I think looks awesome.. It'll never happen though. I'm not a masochist. Not like that, anyway!

2. If you haven't been/or could do it over, where would/did you go on your honeymoon?
God only knows. There are so many places I'd love to go. I guess I'd need to talk it over with whatever poor unfortunate soul I'd managed to sucker into marrying me!

3. What is your dream car?
A VW hippie bus. Does that count as a car? Or if we're not being fussy and it doesn't have to even resemble a car, then a Honda CBR 125. VROOM!

4. If you would move anywhere in the world where would you go?
Spain, probably. It would depend on how long you're expecting me to move there for. For all my grumbling about the weather here, I've never given serious thought to living anywhere else except Spain.

5. What famous lady would you love to be or be bff with?
I actually find this question kind of hard, because I think fame makes people batty... If I had to pick one, though... I'd like to be friends with Drew Barrymore, because she's smiley and seems pretty cool.

6. What colors did you do or do you want to do for your wedding?
I'll cross this bridge if/when I come to it, and even then only at gunpoint.

7. What trashy reality show are you embarrassingly addicted to?
Britain's Next Top Model. Does that count? I just love seeing the make-up they put on them and the ideas for the shoots.

8. Do you remember your first kiss? How old were you and how awkward was it?
I was twelve. It was excruciating. Not only was it awkward, but it was boring! I ended up opening my eyes and counting the leaves around me to pass the time. I remember afterwards I was so disappointed that this was what I supposedly had to look forward to for the rest of my life...

9. What is your guilty pleasure?
Dessert. Or baking. I love both. Dessert for obvious reasons; baking because I lick the spoon like a cat with cream. So if you're phobic of saliva germs you should probably never go near my delicious bakeables.
Just sayin.

10. What is your favorite chick flick?
True Romance. Does that count as a chick flick? I love Clarence and Alabama! My top three films are True Romance, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and High Fidelity, and none of those could really be classed as chick flicks, but at least True Romance has 'Romance' in the title. Just disregard the coke and the violence and the hookers and the blood and you've got yourself a perfect love story!

Alabama: Did I do my part okay?

Clarence: Bamaloo, you were perfect.

Alabama: Like a ninja?

Clarence: Like a ninja.

11. What is your favorite beverage?
Milk. I am practically a cow. I drink about two litres of milk a day. LOVE IT.

12. What is your theme song?
Hmmm... StellaStarr - Graffiti Eyes.

oh please, please, please, please don't you ever say goodbye, child
you've got potential, you've got graffiti eyes,
hey, stay, bring it on down the line child,
you see color when there's only gray.

ohhh you got some moves, come down to the new forbidden craze,
and say whoaaa whoaaa, you know its bad news but you do it anyway,
and say whoaaa whoaaa, you're screaming louder when you don't know what to say
whoaaa whoaaa, one more chance, one more chance to tear apart your brain.
and say whoaaa whoaaa...

13. Who is your style icon?
Hahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahaha! Oh, stop! *wipes away tear of mirth*

14. When was the last time you cried and why?
Properly cried? Or just welled up? Because if it's the latter then probably this afternoon when I was in pain and feeling sorry for myself (bad day).

15. What playlist/cd is on your CD player/iPod right now?
My 'Play It Again Sam' playlist of my most played iPod songs.

16. What is your favorite dessert?
Cheesecake! This is obviously a popular dessert (Ang and Krystle also picked it!). Is there anything better than lemon cheesecake? Or strawberry cheesecake? Or white chocolate and raspberry (believe it - I've made it and it's amazing!)? Apple pie comes a close second, served hot with cream on the side and a bowl of sugar handy. Yummm.

The Land of Zs

2010-09-15T22:17:00.000+01:00

So, it turns out that when I'm exhausted, blogging takes a backseat. I am a sleepomaniac. I NEED my sleep, and when I'm waking up before 8am, everything else (well, almost everything else) gets pushed aside in favour of my bed and a comfy duvet.

I am not the best sleeper. I love sleeping, but I suck at it. I stay in the REM stage of sleep for most of my sleeping hours. I dream every time I close my eyes. My dreams are 50% nightmares, 50% happy, and 100% incredibly vivid. Even though sometimes I get frustrated and want to claw my eyes out after a string of back-to-back nightmare-filled nights, I'd miss my dreams if I didn't have them; sleep is an escape into a crazy world where I don't know what's going to happen, but at the time it's just as real as this one, and there are no lasting consequences.

I've done things in my dreams that were possibly illegal and things that were positively immoral. I've seen amazing things and done the impossible. My imagination, which keeps trying to run away with me during the day, has free rein at night and goes absolutely wild, running rings around me and building a detailed, perfect world for me to play in. It sends me on quests and sets me challenges. It sees all the adventure I'm craving during the day and delivers it to me at night and then some. A few of the places it's sent me have been horrific, with things that leave me troubled for days and images I wish I could unsee. There are other places that have been beautiful and that I want to visit again. But I understand that each place is an independent island of ideas, that I can visit only once and will never see again. My mind is too active to revisit old dreams. It revels a bit too much in creating new environments...

So now I'm going to go haul my duvet up over my back, put my head on my pillow-helmet and venture into a new world.

Zzzzzz....

A Horny Bitch

2010-09-10T21:15:00.000+01:00

My dog's been acting oddly.

She sleeps like this because she has no shame.

Lately, she spends her time sniffing my face, licking me, and then making a humping motion. As in, she doesn't hump my leg, she'll just be sitting down, and then she'll lick my ear, and then she'll... make a thrusting movement with her hips. It's weird. And creepy.

Even worse is the fact that today, as I ate my dinner, I looked down at her sprawled on the floor at my feet and saw milk dribbled down her leg. And when I looked closer, I saw that it was coming out of her NIPPLES.

WHAT.

Lia is a VIRGIN! She hasn't been sleeping around, she has never had sexy times, ever (stop feeling sorry for her, she's only four - there's plenty of time for her to meet the right dog and settle down). Why are her niplets leaking?!

And why is she panting and thrusting all the time? Is she sexually frustrated? Are my horny hormones contagious? Did I pass them to my dog?!

What about the milk thing?!

*pinches nipples*

Nope, I'm safe. It's all good.

Pigeon Romance

2010-09-09T20:48:00.000+01:00

I love pigeons.

I know people don't like them. They say they're 'rats with wings' and carry all sorts of diseases.... but I like them. I think they're cute! I like their bright orange eyes and their scruffy urban orphan look, I like their shiny neck feathers and their funny orange feet.

I work opposite a park, and if I'm having a bad day I cross the road on my lunch break and lean against the railing next to the pond. There I feed the pigeons the crusts from my sandwich or crumbs from my biscuits, and it makes me feel better.

Hanging with my homies

The park looks good now, getting into autumn and everything's still ridiculously green. When it's sunny, every available patch of grass is taken up with couples and groups of teenagers. The atmosphere can get pretty romantic!

Which reminds me.... I overheard one of my workmates on the phone to his girlfriend today. I wasn't eavesdropping, but it's hard not to hear when someone's only a couple of meters away. They talked about a mutual friend's upcoming wedding and then my workmate said, quite casually, "We could probably do that, what do you think?" and then, to her response, "You just go ahead and buy the ring, and I'll give you the money when I get over there".

Seriously.

That was his proposal.

On the phone.

While at work.

And they say romance is dead...!

A Lazy Post

2010-09-07T23:17:00.000+01:00

Five facts about me:

1. When I was little, I was in the Cub Scouts. Eventually I graduated to being a proper Scout, with a blue shirt and a red neckerchief and a whistle and everything. Then I got kicked out. I acted like it didn't bother me but actually it really upset me. Who gets kicked out of scouts??

2. My hair has been dark blonde, red, blue, purple and jet black (not all at once). At the moment it's my own natural brown colour. I like it this way.

3. I once wanted to be a firefighter, or a policewoman. Unfortunately my far-from-intimidating height (5 ft 1") ruled those out pretty early. Then I wanted to be a writer. Then a journalist. Then a graphic designer. Now I have no idea.

4. I love playing Guitar Hero because it lets me pretend that I am in some way musically gifted.

5. The first time I went to meet Scrubs' parents, his dog bit me in the elbow and I almost had to get stitches. I now have a weird wrinkly scar there. I actually kinda like it because it brings back good memories; you know, apart from the pain part.

I'm Just A Girl Who Can't Say No (But Did)

2010-09-06T22:19:00.000+01:00

Today it rained.

Like a motherfucker.

It rained so hard and so heavily, that by the time I walked from the bust stop to work (takes about ten minutes) I was really freaking damp. And cold. Got in the door and said "Jesus Christ it's LASHING outside!" only to be told that I had to walk across town to a different building because the receptionist had called in sick at the last minute. I was to show up and ask for Ed. "It's dead easy", they said. "That building's never busy."

I wrung out my hair in good cheer, turned on my heel and set off for this other building.

Twenty minutes later, I arrived, looking like a Pakistani flood survivor. Hair plastered to my face, I looked for the mysterious "Ed" and found him sitting at what was soon to be my desk. He was a guy who looked to be in his late twenties, black hair, attractive face. He had drowsy eyes that made him look sort of sweet, like a basset hound puppy. He explained everything in less than fifty words and wandered off. I sat at the desk, shivering in my wet clothes, scraping my hair back from my face. I looked at the name 'Ed' that he'd helpfully scrawled on a post-it, along with his number in case I had any problems. All I could think of was this:

Also Ed.

By the time my mid-morning break came, I was convinced I would catch pneumonia. In the toilets I discovered that my lips were a fetching shade of purple, I had goosebumps over my entire body and, miracle of miracles, they had a hairdryer on the wall. I've never been so glad (or surprised, actually) to see a hairdryer in my life. After drying myself as much as I was able, I emerged and continued my shift until lunch.

Ed turned out to be a really nice guy. However, since I a) am in a relationship b) had turned up looking like a waterlogged turnip and c) was only going to be working there a day, I didn't even bother trying to charm him and instead was just my usual weird self, sitting there cutting out a seahorse, googling things like "why is my scar itchy?" and "do seahorses like bubbles?" (strangely, although 99% of websites are blocked in this place, wikianswers is not one of them). Ed took over for me when I had a break, or when I took lunch. Everyone in the place was really nice and friendly, and there was a free milk machine (!!!) in the canteen, and basically I was starting to think this was my dream job - getting paid to sit there and doodle, while getting free milk and chatting to nice people.

After lunch, though, when I relieved Ed of his desk-sitting duty, I suddenly got an e-mail from him.

"Hi, I was just wondering if you'd like to go for a drink with me? Either way, let me know, Ed."

I tapped my fingers on the desk. Hmmm. The answer was obviously no, but I didn't know how to put it. After a lot of awkward finger twisting and frowning, I sent back an e-mail saying I would if I didn't have a boyfriend, and that I was sorry. A few minutes later I got an e-mail back.

"Ah well, can't blame a guy for trying. I think you're quite incredible."

He then went on to give me his mobile number in case I found myself single in the future and felt like taking him up on the offer. It ended with a "Thanks" and a smiley-face.

I thanked him for the massive compliment, obviously. I did think it was very sweet of him. But at the same time, the whole thing made me feel extremely uncomfortable. If I were single, I would have enjoyed it; I probably would have flirted with him and taken him up on the offer. But because I'm not, I found it awkward and felt... hunted. I can't think of any other way to describe it. I resent being put in a position where I have to be the bad guy, and for me, turning someone down when they've had the courage to put themselves out there makes me feel like the bad guy. I hate it.

I wish I could wear a badge that said "Not single. Don't ask." or "I like you, but not like that". I admire people who have the courage to ask a girl out. Just like that. I've had some pretty strange encounters over the years, including (but by no means limited to) a man in his thirties who got out of his car, leaving a tail of angry cars behind him honking their horns, to run over to a 16-year old me and give me his business card, explaining that he found me so attractive he couldn't just drive by (a very romantic gesture ruined by the creepy, creepy age-gap - I never called him). It's the normal guys though, who are sort of shy and sweet and ask you out anyway, they're the ones who really impress me. Because how many times have I walked up to a guy I liked the look of and asked him out? Never. No thank you. What if he said no?!

Which is exactly why I feel so awful saying no.

Anyway, it was mortifying when I saw him next but I we both just pretended it hadn't happened and everything was fine after that. I spent the afternoon dreaming of a scalding hot shower, and on my way to get the bus I got poured on to such an extent that big droplets of water were dripping off my face and my clothes turned into a second skin. Sessy!

When I got home I switched on the hot water, then realised there was something wrong with the breaker (or something, I'm no electrician), waited another hour and when I finally had my shower it was only lukewarm. My mood was black. BLACK, I tell you.

Then I hairdryered myself back into the land of the living and since I am now warm and cosy in a blue llama jumper and fluffy slippers, everything is okay.

It better not rain tomorrow.

Working Girl

2010-09-03T20:09:00.000+01:00

I started work yesterday.

It's astonishing how people find it so much easier to be rude when they're not dealing with you face-to-face. I don't work in a call centre, but I might as well since I spend all day with an earpiece in and a mic in front of my face.

Fun!

For some reason the fact that you're a disembodied voice makes people forget you're a person, and it frustrates me that I have to be nice to people who are downright rude.

And I know full well that if they could see me lovely self they would never be such ogres. Obv!

Most of the time I just want to stop them in their tracks and say "Excuse me sir, can I just stop you there for a moment? Let's start from the top, and this time pretend that I'm the daughter of a close family friend. Or a niece of yours. Or the girl you fancy from the coffee shop. Okay? Okay."

I have never in my life been rude to anybody on the phone. I am that sucker that tells the phone survey person that they've got five minutes (more like ten) to talk. I'm a walkover, essentially, but I'd rather be a walkover than rude.

The best phonecall I had was one where I answered while laughing at a joke. When I finished my introduction ("Good morning, __________ (<-- insert name of company here), Harley speaking!") the man paused for a moment and then, in a smiley voice said "you sound very happy!" I smiled and said "I am very happy!" and he laughed. It was nice to make someone laugh during such a mundane phone call.

So for all you people who use the phone on a regular basis... Be nice. The person on the other end might be me!

What the Fuck is up With Mr. Darcy?

2010-09-01T22:45:00.000+01:00

Think for a moment on the amazing character of Mr. Darcy.

I was mulling this over as I watched Pride and Prejudice for the twelvth time. How amazing is it for Jane Austen to have created a character who is both universally lusted after and completely timeless? I mean, this guy is old - 214 years have passed since he was created - and he's looking better than ever. He actually gets better with age.

Exhibit A: Mr. Darcy from 1875

Exhibit B: Mr Darcy from 1995

Exhibit C: Mr Darcy from 2005

Hopefully, this trend will continue.

(Come oooon, 2015...)

Mr. Darcy doesn't talk much in the book (or the films). In approximately two hundred words of dialogue, Mr. Darcy goes from being an arrogant asshole to the most attractive man you've ever set eyes on (even if he is only in print). What the hell is it about him? Is it the broody, I-hate-you-but-secretly-I-want-you-so-so-much-OH-MY-GOD-THIS-LOVE-IS-CONSUMING-ME thing? Is it because he owns the miserable half of Devonshire? Is it because he falls for Elizabeth despite her not showing the slightest interest? Is it the feeling you get when he's around Elizabeth, that at any moment he might throw her up against the wall and fuck her senseless? Is it because his want of her is so contained? When he finally tells her he wants her it sort of... explodes out of him, as if it was paining him to pretend he didn't care. Who wouldn't want to have that effect on a man?

Mr. Darcy is possessive, dominating and arrogant, but conveniently Elizabeth misunderstood a lot of things about him and he's actually a good man who adores her and thinks the sun shines out of her (muddy) shoelaces. How sexy is that? It's like having a tiger for a pet; Dangerous at first glance, but completely devoted to their owner.

"...And that's why I named you Mr. Darcy!"

I think the way Mr. Darcy has everything under control except his feelings for Elizabeth are part of what make the character so appealing. I wouldn't mind driving a man so out of his senses that he can barely speak to tell me that I have bewitched him body and soul and that he "love... love... love"s me.

Ooh yeaaah. Say it to me slowly.

So he's absolutely stupefied with lust/love. Elizabeth has power over an extremely powerful man. Is that what's attractive about it? The control wielded by an admittedly awesome chick like Elizabeth?

Jesus. Who knew picking apart the appeal of Mr. Darcy would be so complex? I'm handing this over to you, so I can go rest my brain and get ready for my first day at work.

Mr Darcy's attraction quotient: Discuss.

Settling Down

2010-08-31T19:34:00.000+01:00

There's something about the term 'settling down' that makes me panic. What a term! "Settle down". Neither of the words are particularly positive; 'settling' gives the impression that you begrudgingly wound up in a situation you're not entirely happy with, and 'down' has a depressing sort of connotation all of its own. Why can't you 'settle up'?

Anyway. That was a sidetrack.

Isn't it a bit frightening to think about spending a long time with one person? I mean, I will get bored of anything if I've been doing it long enough, so the "settling down" term sounds like a jail sentence. It makes me go a bit spooked-horse.

Waaah!

At first, when I examine my fears, I'm all "what if I get sick of them? What if they start to irritate me all the time? What if I fall out of love?" But once I dig past the narcissism, I realise that the questions can all be reversed; "what if they get sick of me? What if I start to irritate them all the time? What if they fall out of love?" It all sounds so easy - you settle down, you make a home, you go out, you have friends over, you live happily ever after... But what about all the what ifs? What if you start to feel trapped? What if you miss being single? What if you forget all the things about the person that you fell in love with? What if you don't take the time to remember how you felt the first time you met them?

There are six things I think are vital for a healthy relationship:

Trust
Honesty
Gratitude
Respect
Love
Communication

Without any one of these, the whole house of cards can come fluttering down. I've been in a rotten relationship before, and I think it opened my eyes to how rare a good relationship is. It's so much better to be single than to hang onto something that's missing any of the above.

I don't plan on settling down any time soon, but when or if I do I'll be settling UP, with someone who's worth it and who'll have fun with me and who loves me. And the 'settling' won't be the begrudging sort, but the comfortable type; like the way you settle into your favourite armchair.

And when I think about it that way, I don't feel panicked about it.

Bring it.

The Tooth Collector

2010-08-30T21:52:00.000+01:00

I slouched down on my bed to blog and fell fast, fast asleep, so that's why I'm so late today. Blog-induced snoozing. Doesn't bode well for this post!

Friday was my last day of exams and Scrubs whisked me away to a hotel in which we holed ourselves up and had a lazy, technology-free (well almost; he has a Droid) weekend. It was so lovely - the first thing I did when we got to the hotel was run a scalding hot bath with bubbles (MY BUBBLES!!). It was delicious. Not as delicious as the strawberry cheesecake I had after dinner though - that was in a whole league of its own. YUM cheesecake!

I forgot to bring my camera, so have no photos (probably a good thing, I'd say a lot of them would have had an NC17 rating), but trust me, it was *three thumbs up*!

Now it feels weird not to be studying. I was trying to tidy my room which has sadly relapsed into messiness, but I just don't know where to put everything, which is a bit of an impediment. What I really need is another room. Or some sort of magical Mary-Poppins extension.

*sigh*

Now I'm watching TV and gluing things (mostly my fingers. To each other. I'm the worst when it comes to superglue) and wondering if there's any chocolate left in my secret stash... My dog is fast asleep, looking cute as a muffin (muffins are cute, right?)...

She's clearly dreaming of food.

I also threw out a lot of junk from my room, but in the midst of all the garbage I found a few bits and pieces that I set aside:

Check out my stash! Little boxes, random beads, a little piece of coral, tiny key pendants... And inside my little wooden box is my teeth collection (of four)!

Two of my molars, a baby tooth of Lia's (that's the teeny tiny canine you can see), and a shark tooth that I've had for about eleven years now...

Bet you didn't think you'd be seeing a tooth collection today.

Open Letter: Señor Gatito

2010-08-26T15:21:00.000+01:00

Señor Gatito,

Yesterday I came home from what I can only describe as an indecent spending spree armed with all sorts of craft accoutrements. Two of these items - lengths of soft, faux fur fabric - I folded and laid out on my bed, before disappearing downstairs to sit and doodle while watching tv.

At some stage between the hours of 8pm and 11.30pm, you arrived home. You probably had dinner. You went upstairs and stuck your head around my door. You saw the inviting faux fur.

Now, I can understand how you may have been confused. You have never been confronted with this sort of thing before. Also, you regularly sleep on my bed, so it was probably a natural conclusion for you to arrive at.

Having said that, when I arrived home... there you were, watching my reaction out of the corner of your eye without a hint of shame or compunction!

If you remember, Gatito, I picked you up (you hefty LUMP! You could do to lose a few pounds) and moved the fur. I folded it more compactly and placed it next to the wall. Then I went to brush my teeth. I came back and was greeted by your smug, defiant face as you claimed the whole lot as your new bed.

Once you knew you had my attention, you waited patiently as I took a photograph (more like a MUGSHOT!) of your crime, and then you flicked your tail in satisfaction and pretended to go to sleep.

You fiend. This is far from over!

I know you choose not to believe me, but I did not bring that fabric home for you. I also would rather you not get cat hairs all over it. Therefore I am confiscating the fabric and putting it somewhere you can't get to it until you learn that not everything I own is, by extension, yours.

And you can stop looking at me like I'm some sort of sadist; I let you drool on my pillow, is that not enough?!

Your loving co-habitant,

Harley

Oops, I've Been Bad...

2010-08-25T17:05:00.000+01:00

I went shopping today. And yesterday. What?! Don't look at me like that! That money in my wallet wasn't going to spend itself!

By the time I got home, I looked like this:

Afterwards, I had to fight down tandem feelings of delirious happiness and an urge to vomit. Delirious happiness because, well, YAY colours!! And felt! And lots of making things in my future! An urge to vomit because I spent everything I had on crafting supplies. Those shops bring out my latent insanity. They make me completely irrational! I see colours everywhere and I want everything within reach; I even had ten minutes of panic in the shop when I realised there was only one glue gun left, even though it was never part of the plan to buy a glue gun so it really didn't matter either way.

Like I said: Insanity.

Anyway, I am now the guilty-looking, happy (and broke) owner of two metres of faux fur in rich purple and bright, eye-bleeding yellow (don't ask), a stack of cream-coloured card, 14 sheets of felt in different colours, 24 watercolour paints, a black Sharpie, 10 teddy-bear eyes, and a tub of PVA glue. And well you might wonder, 'if you needed retail therapy, why didn't you just buy a pair of shoes, like a normal girl?'

Why indeed.

I could try and answer, but I'd be afraid my mind would wander back to the shop and the array of arty things and before you know it there'd be spit down my chin and I'd be drooling incoherently about colours and pretty things.

I partly blame the exams. They stress me out until I take refuge in a rainbow of pencils and markers and felt (FELT! WHY!?). This morning I had a Linguistics exam where I regurgitated everything I knew about morphology (did you know the word 'unfashionably' contains four morphemes? A root, a prefix, an infix and a suffix) and pragmatics and semantics and inflection and so on...

You SEE? Just writing that has me itching to colour something in!

It's alright, though. The end is in sight. Once I finish these exams, I'll be a whole different (hopefully saner, but just as stony broke) person. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to add items to my Amazon wishlist; that wishlist is to a poverty-stricken shopper as methadone is to a heroin addict.

*Clickety Click*

"The Gauls have only one fear: that the sky may fall on their heads tomorrow."

2010-08-24T16:54:00.000+01:00

I am tired of this miserable weather. I want sunshine! I want skies that don't look like your head might hit off them! I want warmth and light breezes instead of cold and hurricane winds!

When I take Lia for a walk these days, more often than not this is what we see when we get to the beach:

Blergh. Does that look like August to you?! I think I'm gonna have to bring down my winter clothes in the next couple of weeks and maybe start turning on my electric blanket (MMM!) at night before bed and it's not even nearly Christmas! In my mind it shouldn't start to get cold until I have something (Christmas!) to look forward to, so 2010 isn't playing very fair...

I have an urge to SPEND today. I'm craving some retail transactions. I want to go into town and buy colourful things like felt and fabric. I really, really want to give myself some fun time instead of sitting here studying the whole time. Thank God exams are over on Friday and then I won't have to think about them for a while.

I also want a craft room. Very badly. I saw this and drooled all over my ripped jeans.

Look at all those spools of ribbon! And those beads! And that colour turquoise and those pencil holders and just everything about it! Be still my beating heart! I swear on my life I could be tidy if I had a space like that!

So yeah, after spending half the day trying to focus on study, and half the day lusting over things I can't have, I'd say today has been.... okay. Not too shabby, actually.

AND I had toast!

Much Maligned Mondays

2010-08-23T17:36:00.000+01:00

Mondays get such a bad rap.

I mean, they never had it easy to start with, with a name like Monday. 'Mon' sounds far too similar to 'moan', and from there it's but a kick-ball-change to dreaded nomenclature.

The rest of the days of the week have pretty hefty names. Tuesday, which makes me think of toast for no particular reason. Wednesday, the dyslexic day (really. Say it. Wendsday. So why don't we spell it like that? Nobody calls it Wed-nes-day). Thursday, which makes me think of thunder and purring cats. Friday... Free day? Fry day? Either is good for me (bacon, fried toast and eggs or freedom? It's a toss-up). Saturday, which you usually spend sat on a couch somewhere, doing nothing much. Sunday; SUN day. What's nicer than that?

And then you're back to Moanday. I mean Monday.

Historically, Monday was named after the Moon, which I suppose is apt enough since at least during Winter, Monday morning is usually the first day of the week you wake up early enough to see the moon gloomily glistening through the window.

(UGH 6.30am starts! I'm not sorry I'm unemployed at the moment!)

It wasn't always this way. Monday used to be, well, perhaps not loved but accepted. Back in the day before meddling Christians decided Sunday should be the Sabbath.... Sunday was the first day of the week. Sunday was the evil, get-out-of-bed-half-asleep-and-put-on-the-coffee day. Sunday was the God-that-was-some-weekend-maybe-I-could-call-in-sick day. Monday, on the other hand, was the relatively harmless second-in-command; The Tuesday of the ancient world. Monday was probably smug and satisfied, content with its lot. Monday probably wasn't even grateful. Monday didn't know what it had until it was taken away.

And now Monday lives a life of shame and denial. Monday is shunned and despised by most of the working populace.

So today, spare a thought for Monday.

Monday really isn't so bad!

5 Thing I Wish Someone Had Warned Me About

2010-08-19T12:28:00.000+01:00

When I was a little teenager, running around in clumpy black shoes and a kilt, with my pyjamas on under my white shirt (because it was freezing and 7.30am is an inhuman time to be woken up when you're a child), college was the end goal. It was described as one wild party, with optional homework and lots of boys (I went to a Catholic all-girls school). There was mention of week-long benders and body shots, and a much perpetuated theory that you could get A's by sleeping with your lecturers. It sounded easy. I thought I would float through it all in a haze of cocktails, short dresses and high-heels. Nobody warned me about my twenties. Specifically, nobody warned me about:

1. The State of Perpetual Poverty

Pocket money vanishes once you hit college. Why did nobody ever tell me this when I was say, fifteen? I totally could have started a mini drinking pension back then so that when I got cut off I'd still have money to live! I am up to my eyeballs in debt these days and ANNOYED about it (even though clearly it is my own fault).

2. Lecturers are Not Young Hot Men

Yeah, big shocker. So far in my life I have had two lecturers that I would have considered sleeping with and both made my gaydar tingle. The rest have been an assortment of pot-bellied, balding men with moustaches or hefty women with butch hair and no sense of humour. I will sleep with neither in my (seemingly futile) quest for academic advancement.

3. (a) There Will Be Many Hot Boys and Copious Amounts of Alcohol...

Okay this I did suspect, BUT it's directly linked to subsection (b), which is:

3. (b) ...But You Will Have an Older Boyfriend, so Will Not Partake

I didn't get to do fresher stuff because he'd "already done it and it's rubbish" (read: didn't want me to go due to serious jealousy issues). And of course I was head over heels and believed every word. Buh bye, chances of being a superslut. So long, possible cases of alcohol poisoning... Of course, by time I came to my senses it was two years later and although I was ready to drink myself comatose every night and flirt with as many boys as possible, everybody else was knuckling down and starting to study hard. Just my luck!

4. The Homework Isn't Really Optional

Or rather, it is, but only if you want to fail. It took me a year to realise that even though the classes were so big nobody would notice your presence/absence, continuous assessment does in fact render it impossible for you to pass without attending lectures.

5. Things Get Awfully Complicated in Your Twenties

Unless you're me, your twenties are a decade of college, relationships (I've got that part down), getting a job, sorting out how to pay tax, renting a place and learning to drive if you neglected to do so at seventeen (I'm a bit behind on this stuff).This means things are quite a bit more difficult than when you were simply showing up at school and getting berated for having one sock down at your ankle. The only really scary thing back then was whether or not that one boy without acne would say no when your friend asked his friend if he'd kiss you. Now you have to decide what you want to be, and "a DINOSAUR!" is, frankly, no longer an acceptable answer.

Someone should have warned me about this stuff. Instead I was like a naked gladiator, shoved into the pit and told to face five lions with nothing but my puny fists. UNFAIR!

Thanks, guys, for all your comments the other day - you cheered me up and made me feel like less of a dumbass. Now I'm older and hopefully wiser than before I started college, and that means I've learned from my mistakes and might actually progress in the future. Right? RIGHT?

Now if only I could learn to drive...

This Week Has Started Badly....

2010-08-17T19:49:00.000+01:00

So, yesterday I had to run off the bus to barf by the side of the road (classy!) and today I found out I will probably be in college until I am twenty-seven. Twenty-seven. So far, this week is not being awesome. In fact this week is making life miserable and it's doing it with attitude.

I don't want to be in college anymore. I want to have my degree, and have a job, and live in a nice apartment somewhere with a hamster. I want to erase the last five years and go back and start again. I want to rearrange things so that I applied for art first (instead of English and Philosophy), or applied for Journalism the year I applied for Art College (instead of the year before when it was 5 points out of reach). I want my life to look like a solved Rubik's cube, instead of a scrambled one.

Unfortunately, I can't just take off the stickers. Life doesn't let you take short cuts.

RUDE!!

Yeah so with my odd health lately and my dragging the ass out of my degree, I know what I need. I need a calling. A CALLING. Are you listening omniscient being in the sky? Zap me with a thunderbolt or something, because I want to know what it is I'm supposed to be doing. Maybe you could give me a job implant like in Futurama (only please don't make me a delivery girl)? I'm tired of answering "I don't know" to the "what career path have you chosen?" question, and I'm tired of people looking at me like I'm some kind of moron when I tell them I am (STILL) only in first year.

I feel like my life is never going to start. On one hand I am desperate to peel away from the horrible sticky mess that is my life, and on the other hand... the devil you know is better than the devil you don't. I've spent my entire life surrounded by people who tell me I'm stupid and lazy and useless. I used to be downright terrified of doing my maths homework because I'd get hit when I got one wrong (which I always did. Seriously. Maths was the most terrifying thing in my life for twelve years). It was the same with my handwriting and spelling - any mistakes and I'd get in a world of trouble. Good incentive though - you should see my handwriting now; damn near perfect!

Maybe that's my problem. The fear of my own failure was never much compared to the fear of my parent's wrath. Now I have to contend with both and I fall to pieces. Where do I sign up for unconditional love and support? I need me some of that.

I can see myself heading straight for a quarter-life crisis.

Do I get a Porsche with that?

STRANGEr At The Door

2010-08-13T20:39:00.000+01:00

There was a knock on the door. I paused, pen mid-word, and cocked my head. There was another knock, and I slowly slid my chair back. Taking my time I walked to the hall and opened the door to reveal a short woman in her sixties, in slacks and a navy puffy jacket. She looked perfectly normal, and for a moment I wondered if she was a new neighbour.

"Can I help you?" I asked, balancing on one leg as I used the other to keep my dog away from the door.

"Yes, yes... I used to work in this area you see. I worked down in ______ and I lived around about here."

Eyes narrowed, I tried to predict where this woman was headed. Was she collecting for charity? Was she going door to door with her life-story?

"Well I was looking for someone I used to know that lived here... Nuala..."

I cocked my head.

"Anyway, with the economy like it is, I lost my job and now I'm just, I'm at nil. I have nothing. So I'm just going around trying to get a bit of help, you know..."

I made understanding noises while I surreptitiously looked her up and down for any sign of poverty. I did feel sorry for her, but she really, really did not look hard up.

"...Because at the moment, I'm living in Mount Street." She paused. "And I hate living there."

Wait. Waaaait a second. Was she going door-to-door trying to get the money to move house? In this economy? What?! Does that work for anybody?

"Anyway, I have some lovely artwork here that I've done..."

At this, she took out a black folder and proceeded to flip through it. Every page was a different colour, and each one showed off a different painting twenty times. So on the first page were twenty tiny images of the same painting; a red triangular sailboat (?) on a Crayola blue sea. The second page had twenty images of a stick woman (!) waving hello. The third page had twenty images of a tree. At least, I think it was a tree. It looked like the sort of thing people draw when they're five years old and/or paint with their feet. I was slack-jawed with amazement at this stage.

"They're... certainly interesting" I said, honesty ringing in every syllable.

"Yes..."

I mustered up a smiley grimace and tried to look apologetic. "Look, I'm sorry. There's really not a cent in the house right now. Maybe you could come by later or another day?"

The woman pursed her lips and stared at me.

"Well, I can't promise you that I'll be back you know, I'm sorry - I'm very busy!"

I slapped (what I hope looked like) a sympathetic expression on my face.

"Of course, I completely understand. Well, if you can..."

"Of course, of course!" She said, and swept on to the next house.

Has this happened to anybody else?? What is the recession doing to people that they think it's okay to go door-to-door selling children's drawings to raise money to move house?! Who does that?!

I closed the door feeling like I'd just had a surreal encounter with a complete crazy.

Happy Friday the 13th, people!

A Nightime Disturbance

2010-08-12T15:53:00.000+01:00

Last night I went up to my bedroom, changed into a blue t-shirt with the slogan 'Boyfriends Are Recyclable' and climbed (literally; my bed is practically on stilts) into bed. I had my cat next to me, the lights were out... I closed my eyes.

Drip.

Drip.

Right in my ear I heard the damp, unpleasant thwack of a liquid hitting fabric.

I opened my eyes.

The sound was coming from my cat, who was sleeping contentedly. More specifically, it was coming from his head, which was right next to mine.

I ran a finger over his nose to check if he had a nose bleed: Nope.

I moved the blinds in my room to let the street light in....

That is drool I have so beautifully illustrated. DROOL. I squeaked in alarm and poked him. He glared at me accusingly. "You DROOLED ON MY PILLOW!" I cried indignantly.

He yawned. And then he tried to rub against my face with his dribbly chin.

NO THANK YOU.

I didn't even know cats could drool. I mean, I've had my cat eight years and this is the first time I've noticed droolage of any kind! Giving him a suspicious side-eye in case he tried to slime me with dribble while I wasn't looking, I took out my phone and typed out a quick text message to a friend.

"Does your cat drool?"

I put the phone down, satisfied, because to be honest if anybody's cat is going to keep my cat company in the Drooly Club it'll be his. He's the only person I know who has a cat that looks like the taxidermied animal you found in your grandmother's attic that's been up there for 85 years. It moults, has tufts of hair sticking out all over the place, sneezes constantly and has a runny nose.

My phone beeped, and I reached for my it, still keeping one eye on my drooling feline.

"No. My cat died last week."

Oh.

Victoria's Secret Fights Back

2010-08-11T19:40:00.000+01:00

Well, today Victoria's Secret e-mailed me again. Good! I thought. They obviously felt bad and were trying to woo me back on their side. I preened and opened the e-mail. "FALL FOR BOOTS!" screamed the e-mail. Which... Like, whatever. I'm not even a shoe person. But then I looked at the picture.

I think... I think they're taunting me.

Adriana Lima is one of the hottest things ever, so at first I was delighted. Then I scrolled down, saw the boots and smiled goofily. Because I'm not a shoe person, but those boots are pretty. Or maybe Adriana Lima's legs are pretty. The two are pretty muddled in my head.

So I patted my computer screen and decided to give VS a chance to get back in my good books. I clicked in expectantly.

Here are the boots again, on the website.

Okay, VS. What the fuck. Are you taking the piss? Do you know what I would look like in these boots? Do you??

I'll show you.

Those boots will make me look like a midget. They will reach up like a pair of expensive suspenders, and instead of being over-the-knee boots they'll be under-the-crotch boots.

Stop being assholes and offer me something I could actually conceivably WEAR, dammit!

Victoria's Secret Isn't Very Exciting...

2010-08-10T20:23:00.000+01:00

I got an e-mail in my inbox today with the subject line:

"The Most INCREDIBLE Bra Experience Is Here!!!"

This perked my interest. I am a bra aficionado after all. I wear one every day and own approximately twenty of these delectable items of clothing. I double clicked, and prepared to be stunned.

This is what awaited me:

I was completely nonplussed.

Really, VS? This is the most incredible bra experience? A boring, black, plain bra? Really?

Non non non monsieur! What goes on in the Victoria's Secret design house?? I've seen the Victoria's Secret fashion shows! The amazing sets of droolworthy lingerie, the equally droolworthy models... They show things like this to send me into a lingerie-induced coma of lust...

But when I click into their website expecting a haven of sexiness (think Agent Provocateur or even La Senza), with copious amounts of befrilled and beribboned sets of silk and lace underwear... I instead find a barren white landscape of boringness, and can only focus on the fact that they sell this:

What. The. Fuck.

That's false advertising! I want the gold, Christmas-bauble-y one with the satin and the lace, not the horrible looking racerback grey one! If I'm looking for a bra to wear to bed, I promise I will look no further, but do you actually expect me to set foot outside wearing something like that?

I am a lingerie addict, I admit. I love underwear with bits and bobs and what have you. I like satin and frilly, frothy things, little ribbon bows and lace. I shop almost exclusively in a shop whose catalogue looks like this:

...Therefore underwear that looks like something my mom might wear if she actually had any breasts to speak of is not going to get my pulse racing. Underwear to me is like make-up to a lot of girls - the right set is like a suit of armour. I put it on, I feel sexy, and even though nobody can see it, it makes me feel like a superhero.

A sexy superhero!

Anyway.

Here's what makes a bra really incredible according to Victoria's Secret:

Cushioned underwire
Wider band
Flat closure
Self-adjusting straps

I don't know about you girls, but I'm pretty sure my bra already has cushioned underwire. At least, I know I'm not getting skewered every morning while I'm getting dressed, so there must be some sort of padding between me and that nasty strip of metal. As for the wider band... how necessary is that really? I really think that just means it's going to be that much more visible when you're wearing one of those tops with the big long armholes. I know my bra already has a flat closure, because 1. what other kind of closures are there for bras? and 2. is that not why guys have such trouble with them?

And so we come to... the self-adjusting straps.

It's not properly explained how these work (ha!), so I don't feel qualified to tear this claim to pieces, but suffice to say I'm skeptical at best about this feature.

VS, you're doing it all wrong. You sell underwear! You have the "Victoria's Secret Angels"! You host the most watched fashion show in the world! It's not beyond the realms of possibility that you might be able to inject a little lust, a pinch of passion, a spoonful of sexiness or even a portion of playfulness into the drab wasteland that is your website.

Get it together damn you!

To recap*:

Boring and plain.

Fun and sparkly!

*Yeah, I just wanted an excuse to post more gratuitous photos of pretty half-naked girls. SOOOOO sue me.

Pedal To The Metal

2010-08-09T13:33:00.000+01:00

Have you ever been go-karting?

By go-karting I mean proper go-karting, with a real track and fast karts and onesies that smell like manliness and oil and helmets that make your head loll they're so heavy...

I have. Naturally. Because I'm badass. And in case you're wondering, yes, I was rocking the child-sized onesie.

I've always had a great time on the track. I'm a rubbish driver - running alternately on equal parts adrenaline and sheer terror - but I have fun! I put my foot to the floor with irresponsible delight and go hot all over with excitement, and then I hit the brakes hard when the fear that I'm about to flip over turns my entire body to ice. I accelerate so fast my head flies back and I can't even see where I'm going because the gravitational force seems to have pinned the top of my helmet to the headrest... and then I brake so abruptly that I slam forward against my restraints so hard I knock the breath out of me. Start and stop. Back and forth. "WHEEEEEEEE!" and "AAAAAAAAH!!!!"

I think it goes without saying that all the other drivers on the track hate me.

Lately I've been thinking, though, that my whole life is like that. Not with the everyone hating me thing, because I'm just SO naturally adorable, but I live my life the way I drive my go-karts; racing ahead with life and plans and ideas, and then stopping suddenly when fear gets in the way of my progress.

I've been doing this for a long time. In school, I decided to go for a Journalism degree, with English lit. as a second choice and Law as a third, only to stop dead in my tracks a few months later and rearrange my choices so that I had an easier, vague, useless degree as my number one choice instead. A couple of years ago I then decided I wanted to do graphic design, but when it came down to applying to colleges I only applied to one, and that was only because I knew there was no way I could just... pretend I had. The fear of failing stopped me from really going for it.

Which, you know - BAD Harley! *smacks hand*

I'm like that in my relationships as well. I love being single, but when I start seeing someone it's straight into a relationship. And then I love being in a relationship... until doubt takes over and I temporarily lose interest because the fear is too great, and I have to work hard at it. Then my foot presses down on the accelerator and off I go again.

It's exhausting!

Today, I saw this on Postsecret :

...and I realised how true that is for me. I have this picture in my head of what I want, but it seems really remote. And what if, with all my speeding and stalling and stopping and starting, I never find my way there? What if I flip my go-kart?

I think I'm at a crossroads right now, and all I can say about it is that I feel a little bit pre-quarter-life-crisis-y. I need an injection of belief in myself! I need to stop feeling like the Jenga tower that is my life might have the wrong block pulled out of it at any moment. There's nothing in my life stable enough for me to lean so much as an elbow on.

...And that's fine! I don't mind uncertainty. It keeps things exciting. I get bored easily, so a bit of uneven ground does me good.

But the nights of waking up from nightmares have to stop. And I don't think they will until I feel more in control of things. How am I supposed to get my beauty sleep with bad dreams in the way? I certainly don't feel more attractive when I wake up with my skin sick with sweat and strands of hair plastered to my face.

Yuk yuk.

I need a Sleeping Beauty sleep. All calm and peaceful, with not a hint of violence or emotional distress.

Look at her! She's clearly dreaming of CuteOverload!

...And while we're at it, I wouldn't mind one of those nice tiaras.

And well I suppose a wake-up kiss from a prince wouldn't do me any harm either!

Technological Difficulties

2010-08-06T01:10:00.000+01:00

My computer's on the fritz. Or rather, my computer's charger is on the fritz. It smells like burning popcorn when I plug it in, I have to hold it eleventy degrees north of who knows where while twisted into a pretzel shape in order for it to get the message that it's meant to be charging, and it burns. It BURNS. It burns so hot it's melted through the plastic round the jack and is now looking for new and novel ways to electrocute me.

Since I don't feel that my cute but gradually more and more dangerous Samsung NC10 is worth an early death, I have stopped trying to charge it and am running on battery power which is currently at 48%. I ordered a new charger online today and am hoping it will arrive tomorrow, but realistically it probably won't arrive until Monday. I have no idea how I'm going to make it through the next three days without access to the internet.

Cute but deadly.

Instead of asking myself 'what would you do if you only had an hour left to live?' the question now becomes 'what would you do if your netbook only had an hour left to live before cutting out on you until you receive a new charger off ebay?'.

Well? What would you do?

I've synced my iPod, checked e-mail, put my first recipe up online and now I'm chatting to one of my best friends who's far far away (in JAPAN) at the moment...

I feel like I have no time so I can't even think to blog properly. Fingers crossed Hermes (the messenger of the Gods with wings on his feet) can flit across the Irish sea and have it here by tomorrow...

This dude.

Here's hoping!

Where Did The Sexy Go?

2010-08-04T18:56:00.000+01:00

When I was younger, I was absolutely shameless. Thankfully there are no photos (and if there were I wouldn't share them), but I was a lolita of outrageous proportions. I would wear low-cut tops and flaunt my jailbait body any chance I got. I once did a striptease with a friend for a boy's 16th birthday. I invented games in which people got tied up, tied down or blindfolded. I pushed at the boundaries of what was acceptable until they were stretched out of shape.

I enjoyed seeing the effect I could have on people. I liked experimenting with my newfound power; flexing my sexuality muscles, as it were. Testing the limits.

I never actually did anything. Call me old-fashioned, but I just have this idea that sex is really the ultimate expression of love (I know, gag me with a spoon, but that's what I think) and that without that connection it's really not worth it. Of course I recognise that for a lot of people sex has nothing to do with love and that sounds great, but it's not for me.

So in the last few years, I've matured (I HAVE! Stop laughing!!) and I no longer act like such a brazen hussy, but I still enjoy using my talents to provoke a reaction. The heavy-lidded smile of satisfaction, the slow dance, the whisper in the ear - all of that.

My problem is that now, at the grand old age of (drum roll).. 23, despite all this latent sexuality, I find myself completely unable to be sexy around Scrubs.

It's just not possible.

This is the guy that's seen me trip over my own feet. He's seen me whack my hand against a wall for no reason. He's seen me miss my mouth entirely while trying to drink from a glass, and knock countless (breakable) things over. I'm a klutz, and he knows I'm a klutz, and somehow I don't think a klutz can be sexy. Also, he laughs at me when I'm being overly earnest. Or when I tell him interesting facts. He thinks I'm cute sometimes. A cute klutz. I think cuteness and sex appeal cancel each other out a bit. So I can't even try to be sexy around him, because I'm afraid he'll just laugh at me trying to be something I'm not (at least not around him).

How do I shake that feeling?

I want to bring my sexy back!

Mermaids and Other Thoughts

2010-08-04T00:14:00.000+01:00

What is it about mermaids that people find so alluring?

These creatures are half-fish. They probably reek of the sea. They have a Ted Bundy-like reputation for luring people to their deaths. Their only hobbies seem to be collecting junk and combing their hair with forks. There's really not a lot to commend them there, is there?

And yet, people are mental about them! Is it because they're half naked and pretty? Because unless having sex with a fish is your thing, that really just spells extreme frustration.

I don't get it.

Still and all, I like drawing them. Today's doodle is a mermaid, even after that rant and a half...

I spent the weekend with Scrubs' parents. It's so nice to go down there. It was a long weekend, and I spent it alternately sleeping and eating. I wandered up and down the tunnel they have for growing vegetables, picking peas and raspberries and eating them until they had hardly any left. I collected eggs from the henhouse, and played with the dog. I watched A Little Princess and read Families And How To Survive Them. I watched Scrubs' auntie make apple and raspberry pie, and I watched over Scrubs when he got his first ever migraine.

I had a really nice weekend. I feel like the more time I spend with Scrubs and his family, the more chance I have of absorbing the normal and one day being a happy, healthy person.

Not that I'm not happy and healthy now. Just that I have strange ideas about families sometimes.

Anyway - back to the daily grind of studying and getting nowhere with it. Frustration to the nth degree.

Grr.

Thought of The Day

2010-07-30T18:58:00.000+01:00

So, I was thinking about the post Shinxy put up yesterday (here) about curvy women and how the examples of "healthy, curvy girls" aren't actually healthy curvy girls, but usually surgically-enhanced curvy girls... And while I was thinking about it, I drew this:

And then I thought I'd draw myself giving the red dress girl a 'bitch please' face:

...Because she DESERVES it! Look at her with her curves and her silky hair! Cow.

Although now it looks as if she's propositioning me and I'm just uncomfortable with the whole situation.

And yes, I am wearing a llama jumper. How nice of you to notice. Scrubs brought it back for me when he went on holidays and it's super soft. So there. Maybe Red Dress Girl is just eyeing up my jumper? Maybe she has a small handgun behind her back and is planning to MUG ME and steal my jumper!?!?!

Bitch.

Why My Cat Is Awesome

2010-07-29T16:34:00.000+01:00

I'm swamped in kanji at the moment, struggling to study for a Japanese exam I don't exactly feel optimistic about. This has put me in an absolutely foul mood.

Today I was just sitting at the table, stewing under my little black thundercloud of frustration, when this happened: