Tuesday 28 May 2013

20 Bedford Square

I miss my own bedsheets, which I bought, with my money.

I miss being able to call things 'mine' instead of either 'ours', 'yours' or 'hers'. 

I miss furniture and home comforts, like the bedside-table I bought from the charity shop up the road.

I miss the big old shitty tv and Maria's second-hand x-box.

I miss Assassin's Creed.

I miss having take-away. Here, take-away is either fish and chips, or its cooked in a microwave, with tesco packaging. In Brighton, everything is withint five minute's walk, and its hot and bad for you and delicious.

I miss the hilton pool. I miss the hilton gym. I wonder what happened to the guy I'd chat with in Sauna who had a girlfriend in... Arkansas? Somewhere in the US.

I miss 'communal areas'. This house has no communal area, because as soon as you're doing something in it, the other people around don't want to be there anymore. Because tapping at a keyboard, or cooking food, is annoying.

I miss cooking meals together. I miss enjoying the whole process, from deciding what to buy, splitting the cost, splitting the bags evenly, cooking up a meal and all sitting down together to eat it.

I miss Maria's paella. And her tiramisu. and her curries. and her banana milkshake. and her homemade soup.

I miss mac and cheese. I haven't made it since.

I miss having a flat small enough that baking made even the bathroom smell yummy.

I miss the sound of seagulls from the balcony.

I miss being able to listen to music in the house, dance around whilst cooking, or just, whenever.

I miss spending nights in together on the sofa.

I miss the comfort of having someone to say goodnight to, and good morning to.

I miss my old boss. And her cat. and the simplicity of my old job.

I miss walking to starbucks on the way to work in the morning (even though it's really cliched).

I miss the excitement of having a Molly Maid car for a couple days, as transport was a rarity.

I miss the sound of the sea, and the feel of the fresh wind on your face.

I miss seeing the sunset into the water.

I miss Western Road, and Churchill Square, and the stupid clocktower that never showed the correct time.

I miss the houses I used to clean in, the beautiful flats, the mansions, the country houses, the farms, the cottages and the seven story terraced house on the most expensive sea-front square in Brighton.

I miss the gay couples who would phone up and piss off Gilly by being 'too touchy' about their homes.

I miss the weird mod rocker from the charity shop, and his ex-heroin addict ways.


There are so many things about living there that I loved, but there are two things I miss more than everything else. Two people who made all those things quirky and loveable, and without them, Brighton wouldn't have been my home. I miss living with my two best friends and sharing the scary independence we had all thrown ourselves into.

Sometimes, when I'm having a shit day, or something's getting my down (or I just feel ill and glum) I'll pretend I'm sitting on the arm chair, next to the balcony window, and I can see the blue sky above, and I can hear the gulls scrapping around in the bins outside, and I can smell curry, either from our kitchen or the Indian up the road, and all the doors are open and I can hear life and a buzz around me and I'm exactly where I want to be.

But then I open my eyes, and the woman I live with never cooks or listens to music, and the man never wants to sit down and watch "shitty American tv" when there are fascinating things to watch on bbc 4 instead.

There are some good things about being here; I'm not saying if I could turn back time I'd change it, but I know what I loved there, and the things that I enjoy and appreciate here are less tangible.

I miss having all that love in my life. 


Thursday 23 May 2013

Up In The Air

I can feel something in the air. A ripple of the oncoming wave has hit my body, and there is an energy and an excitement to it, but I have no idea what it is. I'm just smiling at the knowledge that something is coming, something with a positive energy, and it's already making me smile. I'm preparing for anything; expecting the unexpected. Something is coming to turn my life around a bit, and my arms are stretched out so big and wide, embracing the change.

All day I've heard people complaining about the weather, but I know that eventually it will be warm again, so there's no need to worry or moan. Just put your hood up and get on with life, because complaining doesn't change anything. I'm not quite 'dancing in the rain', as it's more like 'getting on with work, despite the weather', but it's still progress.

I miss Maria today. I do most days anyway, but today many things have reminded me of her. The winds of change, for one thing, and the fact that my counsellor has told me the exact same thing Maria told me years ago - no matter what it is, follow your gut feeling. I've had lots of gut feelings recently, I'm just hoping that I have the patience to follow through with them.

I'm also watching The New Normal and loving it.

And I'm organising my life in brilliant ways, makes me excited to do mundane tasks again. Yay for being OCD!

Tuesday 21 May 2013

Love Lust Faith + Dreams

... is the title of the brand new 30 Seconds to Mars album, out today. I pre-ordered it two months or so ago, been awaiting this bad boy for some time. Currently having my first ever listen, knowing how much I will listen to it, it's an odd thing to de-virginise yourself with a pre-conceived notion of not caring what you hear, because even if you don't like it, one day you'll love it. Best example of this is 'Stranger in a strange land' from This Is War. Hated it at first. Now, one of my favourite 30stm songs.

Love, Lust, Faith and Dreams. Jared is always vague when it comes to art - his films, his music and his music videos are all made purposefully obscure so that anyone can connect with it in a billion different ways. The album title is typical vague Leto style, but it hits a nerve with me. These four things have been missing from my life for too long - if Dreams is taken as ambitions, not actual dreams, as I always have those bad boys - and this album reminds me that I want those things back. They are worth fighting for.


I'm fighting for my life. I'm fighting to get my life back. I fought with myself between april 18th and may 16th, trying to get an already late essay done, not just handing in a piece of shit, and I fought, and I asked for an extension and did all the appropriate things to keep myself on track and today I picked it up from the Hub and I got a 70 for it. Sometimes, if I kick myself hard enough, I remember that life is worth fighting for, because when it comes down to it, I can achieve things. I can do well.

My 'dissertation' sounds too clinical. I want to call it my baby, my art-form, my incarnation of my soul.

I'm going to get my drive back, get the blood pumping in these veins again, and do myself justice.

And then I'm going to party like it's 1999.

Thursday 16 May 2013

Dirty Pop


This has got to be the definition of 'pop' and all it's awesomeness. You can't listen to shit like One Direction, The Wanted and Beiber when you remember Justin, and N*Sync, and the Backstreet Boys. They owned the '90s, and they had the boyband made. Boybands that don't dance need to be damn good at other things - like McFly, they write and perform, or Take That, who sing and dance (a bit) and write, or Blue, they had Lee who was a very good singer. Having Harry Styles' face doesn't make you a good boy band. Being able to dance, sing and get a crowd going like Justin makes a good boyband. And I still believe that Justin wasn't the best in N*Sync, I say it's JC Chasez. That man can mooooove!

Needless to say, watching old clips of MTV award show performances makes me miss good pop. Pop today has lost its umph.

The best thing I ever saw, N*Sync performing Dirty Pop at the MTV awards 2001, with guest appearance at the end by Michael Jackson. However, this video doesn't exist in full on youtube anymore, which is a crying shame. It was the best thing ever. EVER. (Yes, better than all the times girls have made out on stage at MTV awards. Far better).




Wednesday 8 May 2013

The Man of My Dreams

I had a really long dream this morning, after my 8+ hours of sleep. I can't remember it all, as it was so long, but I'll try summarise it.

I was in a pub, I think it was a mixture between the Dragon and the Rumsey, as I was working, but my shift finished early, so I joined some friends for drinking. During the shift, a guy had been flirting with me (as per!) and he approached me at the table with my friends (Howarth, Steph and Chris - funny story I may tell one day) and me and Chris were playing the 'three letter word' game and I was FINALLY winning with a word I have since forgotten, and this guy came over and started talking to me. He said a few obvious things, feigning interest in my life, and then asked if I had plans for the evening. Chris jumped in with 'no, we're all off to bed soon, she needs company' prompting him to ask me to his place.

At his 'place', I walked around, and it was massive. Like, the house of my dreams. It had a wine cellar, a back extension with pool, sauna, hot tub, etc. A huge kitchen with a big aga and a dining room coming right off it with a separate 'drinks room' with cocktail bar, whiskeys and juke box and all kinds of old cool things, and walking around the place I sort of fell in love, and asked him how he had such a nice house, and he said that it had been his parents, his Dad had passed away when he was young, and it was all his mother had left, so she left it in her will for him, so he owned it outright but wouldn't be able to afford it, and didn't like living in such a big place on his own. I told him I would happily move in, keep him company, help with the upkeep and cooking. We were in the kitchen, and I found a massive walk-in pantry with properly organised jars of EVERYTHING, baking section and all, and he said, in a very non-commital way, "would you marry me?". I literally looked at him like, was that a joke or for real? and his returning look was serious, so I smiled and said yes. [at this point I'd like to draw attention to my otherwise unknown gold digger persona. WHAT?] He was good looking, reminded me a tiny bit of both Mark and Whall, but was nothing like them personality-wise. We kissed, tried to get to know each other a little bit, but suddenly everyone we both knew had heard we were engaged. Ben, Chris and Steph rocked up with people from the rumsey, including all the staff and managers that I work with, and then gradually more and more people were there, asking how it happened, was it too soon, is it because I was pregnant etc etc. And as they asked, my answers became more and more astute. I realised how much I wanted to get married, and have the safety of knowing that someone would always be there for me, as a promise. I want to know that my future has hope and happiness, and in this stranger I could see both those things. And it was all marvellous.

This dream suddenly blurred and took a turn for the worse.

I was out in the garden, admiring the plants and flowers and telling my fiancee that I would love to have a vegetable patch, and this guy appeared, and I knew who he was, but couldn't put my finger on his face. For now, I'll call him David. David wanted to congratulate us both, and leaned in to kiss me on the cheek, and as he did, he whispered in my ear "I always hoped it'd be me". This made me confused, as I really couldn't remember him, so why had he hoped to marry me? Anyway, he went back inside. I wanted to seize the moment as I was finally alone with fiancee for the first time since I said yes, but commotion was happening inside. I went through and David was storming out of the door, and everyone looked upset or shocked, and they told me I needed to go after him and fix things. So I did, reluctantly. Outside the front door, David had disappeared. I ran to find him, along this dark road with no street lights, just the sound of the sea nearby (how we got from central Norwich to the Coast I don't know) and lots of tall dark trees. Then he grabbed me and ran. I couldn't understand what was happening - my feet were off the ground, I was speeding along, and I could just feel these massive arms around me, holding me so tightly that I couldn't move at all, but for once didn't feel unsafe at being picked up. We went to a motel with awful yellow walls. He took me inside, put me on a seat, and apologised for what he had done. He said he needed my help, and I needed to listen to him and do exactly what he said before it's too late. "There's a supermarket nearby where everyone else is waiting for you. I know this, so you need to act fast. I don't know when, but I'm going to change soon, and I need you to change me back. The two little girls in the next room will be able to help you, but I will probably try to kill them first, so protect them. I'm sorry about whatever might happen; if nothing else, keep yourself alive. I need you." His face started to flicker, like something out of Fringe. I didn't know what to do first, but go for the girls. He went into the bathroom. "Barricade me in, but don't take too long... I'll break out quickly enough." I threw the heaviest thing I could find - the large table with the TV on - against the door and went next door. The girls looked terrified. I asked them to take me to the supermarket. On the way down, I heard him screaming from the bathroom - it was happening. I could see the supermarket across the road, but it was too far, I needed to protect them. A woman selling teddy bears and other kids stuff had a stall next to us, and I got the girls to hide within the teddies. I told the woman that I was sorry, he'll probably find them, and she seemed to understand. She sprayed the area with a perfume, and lit a candle, and pulled from her neck a crucifix necklace, showing it off. I ran over to the supermarket.

Inside I found all the people I was expecting to find - Jasmine and her brother and sisters, a muscled black guy called Gun, two British guys and a physics dork. However, they feared I had changed, and one of the british guys grabbed me. I reached for his flick knife in his sock and told him that "if I had changed, why would I have come alone?" We ran through the aisles looking for what we needed. Rope, chains, handcuffs, anything to restrain people. Jasmine's littlest sisters, Poppy and Rosie, were the innocent unknowns, so they were point-guard in the frozen section - direct view of the entrance, but far enough away to be safe. We all had walkie talkies. The chain was next to the alcohol aisle, and two familiar faces came over to say hi - Spence and Hunt. I was a bit shocked to see them, but hugged them and told them that they either need to run away or stay with us to help. They stayed. Spence seemed a bit drunk, and was hitting on Jasmine, but Hunt was trying to help. He asked me what I needed, and I realised I was starving, so he got a packet of biscuits out of his bag, and we all sat silently for a moment, eating, waiting. Mack and Chloe, Jasmine's other siblings, had found weapons. Mack had broken up loads of crates out back, so we all had various wooden splinters and stakes to hand. Chloe was upstairs in the control room, ready to security-bolt the door for when he arrived. We all knew that this wasn't going to go smoothly, but if we could at least protect the rest of the world, that was the main aim. We heard screams from outside. Various people in the supermarket fled - some out the back, and some straight into his arms. We could hear the torture as he ripped them apart. Wesley made the fun comment of "he's gaining strength". We all knew what was about to happen.

As a side note, 'David' is David Boreanaz, i.e. Angel. He's a vampire, in case you hadn't gotten there. And his evil side, Angelus, was out to get us.

A body smashed through the automatic glass doors, and he walked slowly in afterwards, carefully stepping over the mangled body. He whistled, a happy, creepy whistle, looking for us. I knew that walkie talkies were a pointless endeavour now - he has super hearing. Hunt crawled up beside me, and whispered "the little girls". I didn't know which he meant; the ones out with the teddies, or Poppy and Rosie? I peered cautiously around the corner of the aisle and saw two pairs of legs disappearing; they were very close to where Angelus roamed. Spike, not useful for much, as he's a ghost, but immortal because he's a ghost, flittered about nearby. I beckoned him down, pointed to the place I saw the feet, and he casually walked off, as if unaware of the mounting tension. The place Chloe was hiding on the first floor had a glass front to it, to view the whole supermarket. I saw two other faces flick past; it must be Poppy and Rosie. If they are all up there, he's still down here, and they can see what's going on. Jasmine quickly drew a map of attack - spread out, weapons at the ready, try to move him into position under the glass-front upstairs. Jasmine seemed to have a plan. We spread out - Jasmine and Wesley took the far right corner, Mack and Gun took the far left corner, Fred and Spence went forward right, Hunt and I forward left. I knew he was paying attention to everything in the supermarket - every whisper, every breath, every squeak of a shoe, every hair whipping around a corner. Splitting up aloud the slight advantage that his senses would be confused, but we still expected at least half the group to be killed. It was not looking good.

We could see Fred and Spence from our position, but were clueless to the whereabouts of the others or angelus. Fred decided to venture forwards, pulling the square in. She moved along the aisle, towards us, leaving Spence in the corner. Half way along, she stopped dead. We couldn't see what was happening. She was trying to slowly lower herself without making a single sound. Spence wasn't looking; he was looking right, possibly towards Jasmine and Wesley. Hunt was turned around, watching to the right and behind, and he didn't see what I had a full view of: a stake smashed up through Spence's jaw, pushed so hard that it threw him backwards, and he smashed into the freezers, blood pouring onto the floor. Fred was still facing me, and saw my eyes change. Her eyes, covered in fear, asked me what to do. I beckoned her forward; we moved forward; we met at the middle opening of the aisles, directly beneath the glass front. I knew that this place was important to Jasmine's plan; I knew that to defeat him, he had to be standing here. Dead or alive, we could still make a difference. I didn't want to make it obvious that we were telling Angel our position - he couldn't know I was calling his bluff. So I waited for Hunt's eyes to fall on the scene Fred; his best friend mutilated carelessly and pointlessly. A slight crack sounded a back of his throat; a gut reaction, slighter than a breath. But it worked. I saw a flash of dark material further up to the left; I beckoned Fred to hide inside the aisle next to us, and we would be in full view. I turned my walkie talkie back on, and held it behind my back, heart jumping, terrified, hoping that the others would know what to do. He came into view, locked his eyes on me, and approached.

Hunt had taken hold of my hand and was shaking uncontrollably, palms sweating, face glistening with silent tears. I needed to not think about it. I needed to focus. Angel sauntered forwards, finally close enough to hear our hearts thumping, our veins bursting with blood, too good to be missed. Two of us meant it couldn't be silent; two of us meant he couldn't kill us without attracting attention to himself. We both knew that. So he stood, meters from us, just smiling. I could see Spike at the other end of the corridor we faced; he had the two little girls with him, and he saw me, nodded, and herded them towards the back door. This was the moment for my diversion; Angel would hear the back door otherwise. But how would Chloe know to let the back door open? I knew it was a risk, but I went for it anyway. I raised my hand with the walkie talkie in, clicked the 'speak' button, and said "chloe". Angel watched, bemused. An echo of my voice returned throughout the room; the other's weren't far away. He turned his head, acknowledging people's positions. I hit the 'call' button. A loud, horrendous noise emitted from it, a series of bleeps and rings, and I saw four walkie talkies launch into the air as they were thrown backwards. The music system came on, and the sound turned up, and chloe's voice echoed throughout the room. "can whoever is making all the ruckus in aisle three please keep it down?" angel looked up at the glass front, and wesley, jasmine and gun launched themselves at him, chains being thrown everywhere. Hunt let out a tiny breath next to me, as if he'd been holding it this whole time. 

The glass front smashed open, showering Hunt and I with glass; the sound of wheels squeaking and juddering suddenly stopped as the large bucket that Chloe, Poppy and Rosie had pushed out the window came soaring upside-down onto Angel, pouring it's entire contents onto him; an electric-blue liquid soaked the place and most of us.

He was himself again, and he thanked me. I looked up to see the two little girls in the room as well; they had provided the recipe for the liquid to restore him. They were worth protecting after all.

And as I approached Angel to check he was himself and not just faking like usual, he looked up at me, smiled, and said "I can't believe you're getting married".