I'm just a stat to other's blogs.
I'm just a soldier in a war,
I'm just one person, behind the scenes,
No one sees me, yet there I am,
Working, trying, sweating, crying,
No one knows where their food comes from.
I'm just a lonely little letter,
all I care for is myself,
and all I am is that: I.
Is there reason, destiny, or control to demand why each of us lives on this planet today? Or are we just the spawn of a generation of hippies and rockers, who were bread in fear after the war. Of the seven billion of us on this planet, who actually makes a difference? We all affect our friends and loved ones, sure, but who affects people enough to be those great people, the notable figures in society? I'm guessing less than 1%.
I know I'm not that <1%. But that acceptance does not mean that I cease to exist. I just have to find solace in what I can do, and leave the big political decisions to those people with burdens the size of Norway on their shoulders.
Today I don't like my existence. I wish there was more for me here.
Friday 29 June 2012
Sunday 24 June 2012
Dirty Little Liars
This week, I have had to lie. And I mean 'had'. I couldn't not, and I hate it. I hate lying. I hate this feeling that now looms in my gut that all the crap thats going on right now, I've smothered with lies.
Where to begin...
So I recently said I feel guilty about a guy at work quitting, right? His name is Chris. He's worked for my parents twice now, and yesterday, on the way home from our second event together, he was telling me his plans for the morning. "I've got to go to the Locks, face Colin, and get my wages off him. And I've got to leave Steph (girlfriend)".
Now for some stupid, unknown, ridiculous reason, I then asked the silly question, "What?". So he repeated. He told me how he didn't want to be with Steph anymore, because he thought that she felt their relationship was too serious and he didn't want it to be, and he was just 'content' with her, not actually happy. Oh, and he would've broken up with her today, but as he was working for me, didn't have the time.
Great stuff. Thing is, Steph works at The Locks too. I like her. She's a really nice girl, has cool blue and red hair, works hard and is a good person to be around in general. And is almost as bad at Irish snap as I am. So when Chris said this, I felt a little heartbroken for her, but he then said "oh, don't mention any of this to Steph tomorrow, will ya?"
Today, Steph came into work, twenty mintues late because she had to pick up Alice, who overslept, and as she comes through the door she says something to Ife, and he hugs her. Now, I don't know what she said, but I knew already. I knew he had already broken up with her. But she hadn't told me yet, so I had to continue like nothing had happened.
An hour or so into our shift, she tells me "Chris broke up with me this morning." "Fuck", I say, sympathetic, and talk to her about how she is, etc. She smiles, she's putting on a brave face, as she's had to come straight from heartbreak number 3 (he's broken up with her three times, how ridiculous is that?), to work. Bad day for Steph. She then turns to me and says, "did he mention anything to you last night?" I want to tell her, because I don't want to lie to her, but it will only hurt more. I say no. If I'd said yes, and she's asked what he'd said, I may have revealed something to her that he hadn't actually told her. I can't do that. I just have to lie.
So that's situation one. Situation two precedes this, because last week when I felt all guilt about asking Chris to work and him quitting, my boss asked me, when I came in to pick up my wages, "Do you know anything about why Chris thought I was angry with him, got in a huff and stormed out?" I lied. I said "No, I don't know why Chris would have done that." Truth is, I know why. I know that Chris got a text off me and Jasmine warning him that Colin was mad. I didn't say too much, but I know Jasmine told him that his shifts would get cut and Colin didn't want to have to see him in his pub anymore. But I wasn't about to get my new best friend into shit with the boss. So I lied.
On to situation three - Jasmine's drunken mistake. Friday morning, before work, she phones me, sounding like shit, saying she's massively hungover, waiting for the bus to get to work, and this morning she woke up next to a stranger, who claims they had sex during the night, but she can't remember this. Oh dear, I say. She then tells me she's already phoned Ben (her boyfriend, my best friend / un-related brother) and told him, and he says that they need to talk about things.
I gave Jasmine the best advice I could (considering I have some experience in these matters) and bought her some hangover relief for work. That was Friday. Today (sunday), she calls me when I'm at work, where signal is hard to come by, so our conversation took a while, but she basically tells me that Ben's on his way over and she's worried that he's going to break up with her. I tell her that there's only one thing she can do, and that is ask him to forgive her. Of course, he may have already decided what he's going to do, so just try be a gracious girlfriend while you can be.
I've been busy. And my one day off last week, I text Ben, thinking 'haven't seen Howarth in ages, would be nice to hang out" and his reply just kicks me in the groin, because not only can I not see him, I can't even go to his house. I can't see Sue, Alex or Louise. And he will be unavailable for at least the next 24 hours. His reply: "hanging out with your ex". Great stuff.
So today I text Ben again, but I felt like I had to be careful with words. And he never replied. And Jasmine never told me what happened with their conversation. And now I feel like this big middle-man in a big scenario I don't want to be in, but I want to help if I can, because inevitably, one of them will need consoling.
So that third lie hasn't happened yet. I'm really hoping it doesn't, but I get the feeling I will hear things that I shouldn't pass on, and will later be questioned about it, and have to deny ever hearing it. I wish people would stop telling me things.
Today has been long, arduous, I hate football, my feet hurt, I am thinking about demanding 'fresh air breaks' for all the times EVERYONE else goes and has a smoke (I'm literally the only one that doesn't smoke. Except Jasmine. But she wasn't at work today. So it SUCKED.) I also hate radio five live. The only pub in the freaking county that doesn't have any electricity (we run off a generator), you think would be the one place to escape the football. Oh hell no. Ify's got the radio on. And he's going to sit there, and listen to it, right next to it, and just watch me doing the washing up, the pile getting bigger and bigger. He doesn't realise his ears still work if his hands are doing something. GAH.
Rant over. Certain things about this job really bloody grind my gears. But its money. And inspiration for stories about wankers, ass-kissers, weed growers, weed smokers, school-bus drivers and ferry-boat owners. All in a day at the Locks.
Where to begin...
So I recently said I feel guilty about a guy at work quitting, right? His name is Chris. He's worked for my parents twice now, and yesterday, on the way home from our second event together, he was telling me his plans for the morning. "I've got to go to the Locks, face Colin, and get my wages off him. And I've got to leave Steph (girlfriend)".
Now for some stupid, unknown, ridiculous reason, I then asked the silly question, "What?". So he repeated. He told me how he didn't want to be with Steph anymore, because he thought that she felt their relationship was too serious and he didn't want it to be, and he was just 'content' with her, not actually happy. Oh, and he would've broken up with her today, but as he was working for me, didn't have the time.
Great stuff. Thing is, Steph works at The Locks too. I like her. She's a really nice girl, has cool blue and red hair, works hard and is a good person to be around in general. And is almost as bad at Irish snap as I am. So when Chris said this, I felt a little heartbroken for her, but he then said "oh, don't mention any of this to Steph tomorrow, will ya?"
Today, Steph came into work, twenty mintues late because she had to pick up Alice, who overslept, and as she comes through the door she says something to Ife, and he hugs her. Now, I don't know what she said, but I knew already. I knew he had already broken up with her. But she hadn't told me yet, so I had to continue like nothing had happened.
An hour or so into our shift, she tells me "Chris broke up with me this morning." "Fuck", I say, sympathetic, and talk to her about how she is, etc. She smiles, she's putting on a brave face, as she's had to come straight from heartbreak number 3 (he's broken up with her three times, how ridiculous is that?), to work. Bad day for Steph. She then turns to me and says, "did he mention anything to you last night?" I want to tell her, because I don't want to lie to her, but it will only hurt more. I say no. If I'd said yes, and she's asked what he'd said, I may have revealed something to her that he hadn't actually told her. I can't do that. I just have to lie.
So that's situation one. Situation two precedes this, because last week when I felt all guilt about asking Chris to work and him quitting, my boss asked me, when I came in to pick up my wages, "Do you know anything about why Chris thought I was angry with him, got in a huff and stormed out?" I lied. I said "No, I don't know why Chris would have done that." Truth is, I know why. I know that Chris got a text off me and Jasmine warning him that Colin was mad. I didn't say too much, but I know Jasmine told him that his shifts would get cut and Colin didn't want to have to see him in his pub anymore. But I wasn't about to get my new best friend into shit with the boss. So I lied.
On to situation three - Jasmine's drunken mistake. Friday morning, before work, she phones me, sounding like shit, saying she's massively hungover, waiting for the bus to get to work, and this morning she woke up next to a stranger, who claims they had sex during the night, but she can't remember this. Oh dear, I say. She then tells me she's already phoned Ben (her boyfriend, my best friend / un-related brother) and told him, and he says that they need to talk about things.
I gave Jasmine the best advice I could (considering I have some experience in these matters) and bought her some hangover relief for work. That was Friday. Today (sunday), she calls me when I'm at work, where signal is hard to come by, so our conversation took a while, but she basically tells me that Ben's on his way over and she's worried that he's going to break up with her. I tell her that there's only one thing she can do, and that is ask him to forgive her. Of course, he may have already decided what he's going to do, so just try be a gracious girlfriend while you can be.
I've been busy. And my one day off last week, I text Ben, thinking 'haven't seen Howarth in ages, would be nice to hang out" and his reply just kicks me in the groin, because not only can I not see him, I can't even go to his house. I can't see Sue, Alex or Louise. And he will be unavailable for at least the next 24 hours. His reply: "hanging out with your ex". Great stuff.
So today I text Ben again, but I felt like I had to be careful with words. And he never replied. And Jasmine never told me what happened with their conversation. And now I feel like this big middle-man in a big scenario I don't want to be in, but I want to help if I can, because inevitably, one of them will need consoling.
So that third lie hasn't happened yet. I'm really hoping it doesn't, but I get the feeling I will hear things that I shouldn't pass on, and will later be questioned about it, and have to deny ever hearing it. I wish people would stop telling me things.
Today has been long, arduous, I hate football, my feet hurt, I am thinking about demanding 'fresh air breaks' for all the times EVERYONE else goes and has a smoke (I'm literally the only one that doesn't smoke. Except Jasmine. But she wasn't at work today. So it SUCKED.) I also hate radio five live. The only pub in the freaking county that doesn't have any electricity (we run off a generator), you think would be the one place to escape the football. Oh hell no. Ify's got the radio on. And he's going to sit there, and listen to it, right next to it, and just watch me doing the washing up, the pile getting bigger and bigger. He doesn't realise his ears still work if his hands are doing something. GAH.
Rant over. Certain things about this job really bloody grind my gears. But its money. And inspiration for stories about wankers, ass-kissers, weed growers, weed smokers, school-bus drivers and ferry-boat owners. All in a day at the Locks.
Thursday 21 June 2012
Purely self-appraisal
So today I noticed one of the figures on my blog homepage had gone up. I have had over 4000 page views. This both rubs my self-esteem and ego nicely, and also posses the all important question - considering I only have six followers, and I somehow doubt you each check my page on a daily basis...
WHO ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE?
Apparently many people in Alaska read this too. I find this utterly bewildering. If I lived in Alaska, I'd find much more things to do than trawl the internet for a boring blog about a post-graduate with too many problems and not enough money.
But hey, each to their own!
WHO ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE?
Apparently many people in Alaska read this too. I find this utterly bewildering. If I lived in Alaska, I'd find much more things to do than trawl the internet for a boring blog about a post-graduate with too many problems and not enough money.
But hey, each to their own!
Wednesday 20 June 2012
Smile Like You Mean It
I had a really strange dream about my ex-ex boyfriend. And now I have this weird feeling in my chest. And its really bizarre, because I've been thinking about what might happen if/when I see him, but now, for absolutely no definite reason, I have become resolute about being the one to initiate something. And I have no idea why. And this could all be an utter waste of my time and thoughts, because he probably hates me and wants to avoid me forever. But for some reason, I feel compelled to listen to my crazy dreams/feelings. Its all I have at the moment; my day to day life has no real emotion, no depth, no importance or impact, I just serve people food, clean up various messes and go home to my little cave of music films happiness and exercise. And then I crawl out of my cave after some (usually not enough) sleep and provide food for varying customers again.
I also feel horribly guilty that it was my asking a guy at work to do a shift for my parents, which caused the boss to get angry, so I told said guy that boss was angry, so said guy went to work a few days later and quit, all because of me ? He was leaving anyway, but still... I feel guilty.
Oh yeah, and I would like to remind everyone to check their breasts / testicles regularly for lumps, and it is suggested that every new partner you 'get nakey' with, you have a check up. You never know what your gonna catch from these youngun's these days. Remember, don't be a fool - wrap your tool!
(Please don't all think I'm now some disease-riddled whore. I had my pill check-up the other day, having decided I'm staying on it, and the nurse's walls were covered in morbid posters about cancer, chlamydia and children. The dreaded three Cs!)
On that note, I'm gone for the day, so stay safe and keep smiling!
I also feel horribly guilty that it was my asking a guy at work to do a shift for my parents, which caused the boss to get angry, so I told said guy that boss was angry, so said guy went to work a few days later and quit, all because of me ? He was leaving anyway, but still... I feel guilty.
Oh yeah, and I would like to remind everyone to check their breasts / testicles regularly for lumps, and it is suggested that every new partner you 'get nakey' with, you have a check up. You never know what your gonna catch from these youngun's these days. Remember, don't be a fool - wrap your tool!
(Please don't all think I'm now some disease-riddled whore. I had my pill check-up the other day, having decided I'm staying on it, and the nurse's walls were covered in morbid posters about cancer, chlamydia and children. The dreaded three Cs!)
On that note, I'm gone for the day, so stay safe and keep smiling!
Monday 11 June 2012
The Iron-Foot Tournament
I want to write a script about Inflataball. Is that do-able?
I may watch Dodgeball for inspiration. But I need more of a uni/college basis. I might add, I am so slow at writing nowadays, it will not appear any time soon, but this is my virtual 'dibs' claim. So suck it, boys, its mine.
But obviously when/if I ever get words on to paper, shall email it to all for suggestion / appraisal.
I might write a blog about my new work colleagues. Its such a mish-mash of people I really get on with, and people I would happily bludgeon to death with a frying pan. Not that they know what a frying pan is... and yet call themselves 'chef'... Urgh.
So, expect that in the pipeline soon. For now, I will enjoy the rest of my day off, and hopefully do a bit of writing. Peace out mother-truckers.
I may watch Dodgeball for inspiration. But I need more of a uni/college basis. I might add, I am so slow at writing nowadays, it will not appear any time soon, but this is my virtual 'dibs' claim. So suck it, boys, its mine.
But obviously when/if I ever get words on to paper, shall email it to all for suggestion / appraisal.
I might write a blog about my new work colleagues. Its such a mish-mash of people I really get on with, and people I would happily bludgeon to death with a frying pan. Not that they know what a frying pan is... and yet call themselves 'chef'... Urgh.
So, expect that in the pipeline soon. For now, I will enjoy the rest of my day off, and hopefully do a bit of writing. Peace out mother-truckers.
Saturday 9 June 2012
You and Me Have Seen Everything to See
It's been almost two months, so I'll write my world down. My world I left behind. The world I gave up, and told myself to not look back at, no matter how much I wanted to. My neck really hurts, so today I'll let it turn for the first time, and have a moment, but tomorrow it won't hurt anymore, and I'll be facing forward forever more.
The beginning is a blur. It was a recurring argument of who started what. A girl thought we were a couple, so we played along, and it fitted. Our friendship had been like that of two young best friends, where we might not do anything, we might sit and chat, drink tea, watch a film, but it was all done in each other's company. Being near him was so crucial to my existence, and I didn't realise this until everything started to unfold.
I was still with Ben at the time, and we were pretending to be a couple, and we all went back to their house to carry on the 'party', and I sat in his bedroom. Apparently, this was my 'move'. I remember thinking 'Macina and Dan are both trying to get with this girl, I don't want to have to watch/listen to the embarrassment of it anymore', so I was upstairs, I think I had peed, and I sat in his room. And he came in, and we chatted for a bit, and then he started to lean in to kiss me, and every part of our friendship hung in this balance of what happened next, and everything slowed down and my mind was racing and I didn't know what to do, as I had a boyfriend, and I was trying to be a good girlfriend, but this moment was happening, and it felt like a gravity that had been looming for a while, waiting for the perfect moment, the perfect evening, to present itself. I let him kiss me, and I kissed him back, and then I knew I had to change my life around, as everything was wrong again.
It took a few more drunken nights of him telling me to leave Ben, but one day he decided to be sober for a month, because he was getting a bit ridiculous, and in that time, I broke up with Ben, and I waved goodbye to him for good, and to this day, have not seen him since. And I returned to Southampton with a new canvas to start upon. So I started really slowly to paint what I knew, from before he even kissed me, would be a beautiful picture.
We started so slowly, and I'd never done that before. We would sleep in the same bed, but we put off other things, so I felt young and nervous again. I loved being able to sleep next to him, and be hugged and loved, and just feel so close to him.
He told me he loved me when he was drunk. It took us both a while to say it sober, but I remember him saying it to me, and I just smiled for about a week. I would walk to and from the gym with Maria just smiling serenely. Other aspects of my life were still bad / in the shitter, but it was okay, because I was so happy, and no one could take that from me.
The first few months are a blur of sex and tea. It was like an amazing montage of an eighties film starring Rob Lowe.
We would go to the library together. We made pacts to do work during the day, and see each other in the evening, to help us get work done. I can thank him for helping me get a first - I know I wouldn't have been so hard working without him helping me.
Our friends all seemed to take our relationship in their stride amazingly. Everyone seemed to see it coming / knew how we felt before we even did, so the transition was pretty smooth and effortless. And we all spent the last few weeks of uni making some amazing memories, and I love those weeks. Our last day, our hand in, our last night in the fat cat with Marc and Sara - they are perfect moments in my life, and I wouldn't change them for the world.
His birthday coincided with something I had wanted to do for so long - take some one abroad. Death Cab were playing in Berlin, and I got so nervous thinking about everything that could go wrong in booking it, but I did it, and it was worth it, because it was a lovely few days, and now a whole city will forever remind me of him, and of our time together.
Brighton, and moving, and finding jobs took a lot out of all of us, but the first few months were so warm and easy. It was when I got my job that we started becoming a 'married couple', but it was so easy to fall in to simple routines. Food, films, our TV shows, and the Indian down the road. I'd go home at weekends and get really drunk, spend a lot of money, burn the candle at both ends, but in Brighton I was this sensible person.
I don't want to reflect on the bad things. I loved our relationship, but we always knew our future was awkwardly unclear. I wish I could have done things differently, but in the end, we did the right thing. I know that no matter what happens in both our lives, where we go, we'll always be able to sit and drink tea and smile about what we had.
I hope you every happiness. I hope we can become the friends we once were, or something similar, because I miss my old neighbour. I make cakes now, and have no one to feed them to.
I will always have a space in my heart for you, and I hope you know that. Falling in love with you was one of the best things that ever happened to me, so I wouldn't change a single thing about how it happened. I like to listen to Death Cab and just float, blissful and at peace. So, for introducing me to that band, and for so many other things, thank you Martin. It's been amazing.
The beginning is a blur. It was a recurring argument of who started what. A girl thought we were a couple, so we played along, and it fitted. Our friendship had been like that of two young best friends, where we might not do anything, we might sit and chat, drink tea, watch a film, but it was all done in each other's company. Being near him was so crucial to my existence, and I didn't realise this until everything started to unfold.
I was still with Ben at the time, and we were pretending to be a couple, and we all went back to their house to carry on the 'party', and I sat in his bedroom. Apparently, this was my 'move'. I remember thinking 'Macina and Dan are both trying to get with this girl, I don't want to have to watch/listen to the embarrassment of it anymore', so I was upstairs, I think I had peed, and I sat in his room. And he came in, and we chatted for a bit, and then he started to lean in to kiss me, and every part of our friendship hung in this balance of what happened next, and everything slowed down and my mind was racing and I didn't know what to do, as I had a boyfriend, and I was trying to be a good girlfriend, but this moment was happening, and it felt like a gravity that had been looming for a while, waiting for the perfect moment, the perfect evening, to present itself. I let him kiss me, and I kissed him back, and then I knew I had to change my life around, as everything was wrong again.
It took a few more drunken nights of him telling me to leave Ben, but one day he decided to be sober for a month, because he was getting a bit ridiculous, and in that time, I broke up with Ben, and I waved goodbye to him for good, and to this day, have not seen him since. And I returned to Southampton with a new canvas to start upon. So I started really slowly to paint what I knew, from before he even kissed me, would be a beautiful picture.
We started so slowly, and I'd never done that before. We would sleep in the same bed, but we put off other things, so I felt young and nervous again. I loved being able to sleep next to him, and be hugged and loved, and just feel so close to him.
He told me he loved me when he was drunk. It took us both a while to say it sober, but I remember him saying it to me, and I just smiled for about a week. I would walk to and from the gym with Maria just smiling serenely. Other aspects of my life were still bad / in the shitter, but it was okay, because I was so happy, and no one could take that from me.
The first few months are a blur of sex and tea. It was like an amazing montage of an eighties film starring Rob Lowe.
We would go to the library together. We made pacts to do work during the day, and see each other in the evening, to help us get work done. I can thank him for helping me get a first - I know I wouldn't have been so hard working without him helping me.
Our friends all seemed to take our relationship in their stride amazingly. Everyone seemed to see it coming / knew how we felt before we even did, so the transition was pretty smooth and effortless. And we all spent the last few weeks of uni making some amazing memories, and I love those weeks. Our last day, our hand in, our last night in the fat cat with Marc and Sara - they are perfect moments in my life, and I wouldn't change them for the world.
His birthday coincided with something I had wanted to do for so long - take some one abroad. Death Cab were playing in Berlin, and I got so nervous thinking about everything that could go wrong in booking it, but I did it, and it was worth it, because it was a lovely few days, and now a whole city will forever remind me of him, and of our time together.
Brighton, and moving, and finding jobs took a lot out of all of us, but the first few months were so warm and easy. It was when I got my job that we started becoming a 'married couple', but it was so easy to fall in to simple routines. Food, films, our TV shows, and the Indian down the road. I'd go home at weekends and get really drunk, spend a lot of money, burn the candle at both ends, but in Brighton I was this sensible person.
I don't want to reflect on the bad things. I loved our relationship, but we always knew our future was awkwardly unclear. I wish I could have done things differently, but in the end, we did the right thing. I know that no matter what happens in both our lives, where we go, we'll always be able to sit and drink tea and smile about what we had.
I hope you every happiness. I hope we can become the friends we once were, or something similar, because I miss my old neighbour. I make cakes now, and have no one to feed them to.
I will always have a space in my heart for you, and I hope you know that. Falling in love with you was one of the best things that ever happened to me, so I wouldn't change a single thing about how it happened. I like to listen to Death Cab and just float, blissful and at peace. So, for introducing me to that band, and for so many other things, thank you Martin. It's been amazing.
Thursday 7 June 2012
Breaking My Back
(Metaphorical title, please don't panic on my behalf)
I've shot myself in the foot again. All that time I was 'bored', there were plenty of things I wanted to be doing, but kept saying 'it can wait'. Now, I forget to do everything. I forget to go to the gym, and I don't know how long its been since I last went, so my loose diet challenge is somewhat pointless and ineffective. My weekends are busy, from now until forever, and I hope to plan a nice reunion for all us uni pals at the end of summer, but I have no idea when I will ever have a weekend free to do so. Just know I'm mulling it over. Slowly.
So sorry Nathan, my boredom didn't last long, I'm back into the highly laborious summer job I've had since I was 13, with a pub job thrown in over the top, and I don't quite know how I will keep this up, because my muscles are hurting. I'm not exercising, so standing up all day is making my legs and back really ache. I need to sort it out. I need to sort my life out, because this cannot continue in such a haphazard, thoughtless way. Plans must be made. A timetable will be drawn up within the week. God I love being organised.
I was considering taking time off from the pill. No guy cares about this, but its something girls think about a lot. Every morning I pop this little sugar-coated anti-Christian God-like-powered pill which tricks my body into thinking it is currently harbouring a child, so I cannot get pregnant. This is aces, as I don't want a child. But equally, I don't like having to take a pill every morning for 21 mornings, then have the dreaded week off, then do it again, and again, and again, and again. If I'm not in a serious relationship, and frankly, don't think I will be again for a little while, surely I should come off the pill? But the added bonuses of the little God-like thing is that I control my body. And that one control is really nice right now. Even if being on the pill does mean you're a few pounds heavier than you should be. I need the control. So I'm staying on it, despite it being mainly wasted on me.
On that note, I'm realising the strange differences between living here at 22 and living here as a school girl, teenager and slight rebel. Life has its mirrors, but in the strangest ways, and the differences can be astonishing too. Every time I wake up late, Mum makes some comment about 'teens' or 'laziness', forgetting that sleeping pattern has nothing to do with either of those things.
The weirdest thing about living at home though - coming home after staying out somewhere. Admittedly, my parents have never been prying into my life anyway, but now that I'm old enough to go where I want, do as I please, see who I please and... so on and so forth - the nervousness in their eyes as they see me come in the house, oblivious to where I've been, is amazing. I stayed at new-bestie-Jasmine's house a few days ago. Woke up with three voicemails, all saying things like 'you really SHOULD come home soon Laura', but none with any actual reason for me to do so.
My parents are bizarre. I would say 'but that's a blog for another day', but its not. Its too long, complex and boring to be written in a blog. You have to meet them to understand.
I don't know when I'll get the time / think of something worth saying / be bothered to write another blog, so for now, that's all folks!
I've shot myself in the foot again. All that time I was 'bored', there were plenty of things I wanted to be doing, but kept saying 'it can wait'. Now, I forget to do everything. I forget to go to the gym, and I don't know how long its been since I last went, so my loose diet challenge is somewhat pointless and ineffective. My weekends are busy, from now until forever, and I hope to plan a nice reunion for all us uni pals at the end of summer, but I have no idea when I will ever have a weekend free to do so. Just know I'm mulling it over. Slowly.
So sorry Nathan, my boredom didn't last long, I'm back into the highly laborious summer job I've had since I was 13, with a pub job thrown in over the top, and I don't quite know how I will keep this up, because my muscles are hurting. I'm not exercising, so standing up all day is making my legs and back really ache. I need to sort it out. I need to sort my life out, because this cannot continue in such a haphazard, thoughtless way. Plans must be made. A timetable will be drawn up within the week. God I love being organised.
I was considering taking time off from the pill. No guy cares about this, but its something girls think about a lot. Every morning I pop this little sugar-coated anti-Christian God-like-powered pill which tricks my body into thinking it is currently harbouring a child, so I cannot get pregnant. This is aces, as I don't want a child. But equally, I don't like having to take a pill every morning for 21 mornings, then have the dreaded week off, then do it again, and again, and again, and again. If I'm not in a serious relationship, and frankly, don't think I will be again for a little while, surely I should come off the pill? But the added bonuses of the little God-like thing is that I control my body. And that one control is really nice right now. Even if being on the pill does mean you're a few pounds heavier than you should be. I need the control. So I'm staying on it, despite it being mainly wasted on me.
On that note, I'm realising the strange differences between living here at 22 and living here as a school girl, teenager and slight rebel. Life has its mirrors, but in the strangest ways, and the differences can be astonishing too. Every time I wake up late, Mum makes some comment about 'teens' or 'laziness', forgetting that sleeping pattern has nothing to do with either of those things.
The weirdest thing about living at home though - coming home after staying out somewhere. Admittedly, my parents have never been prying into my life anyway, but now that I'm old enough to go where I want, do as I please, see who I please and... so on and so forth - the nervousness in their eyes as they see me come in the house, oblivious to where I've been, is amazing. I stayed at new-bestie-Jasmine's house a few days ago. Woke up with three voicemails, all saying things like 'you really SHOULD come home soon Laura', but none with any actual reason for me to do so.
My parents are bizarre. I would say 'but that's a blog for another day', but its not. Its too long, complex and boring to be written in a blog. You have to meet them to understand.
I don't know when I'll get the time / think of something worth saying / be bothered to write another blog, so for now, that's all folks!
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