I can never get away from my past. The person I used to be, and the actions and consequences of that person. I can't run away.
And my past seems to be catching up with me.
No matter how many burnt bridges I salvage, or fences I mend, I cannot fix everything, and I know the things that are unfixable. The relationships which set sail so long ago, I wouldn't know what ocean to find them in anymore. One of these, probably the most 'famous' example, is Whall, a man actively ignoring me, as much as that is oxymoronic.
But the other things come back to me, haunt me, and I don't know what to do about them. Bob, for instance, scares the living shit out of me. I once mentioned (and now cannot find reference to it at all) the faces I was scared of ever seeing again. Bob was one of them, and I have still not seen, so can't comment on that. And one used to be Sophie, but I addressed that fear, and now, things are better. My head is less terrified. But last night I remembered another one; a fear of a face I had forgotten to be afraid of, because I pushed him out of my mind, and last night I was rudely reminded of that fear. I haven't seen him, but it seems inevitable - his best friend is my new assistant manager, and as he will be returning from Leeds soon, supposedly for good, it seems unlikely that we will always miss each other in the few pubs that we all frequent.
Problem is, my fear of him is one-sided, as he refuses to acknowledge my existence / pretends not to remember who I am, what we did, what he did, and that everyone we both know knows about it, yet he still denies it. When I told Ed that I knew him, Ed asked him if he knew me, and he said no. That shit kinda stings, because I can't hear his surname without my backbone shivering and my body stiffens like a cat sensing the presence of a dog.
Despite all this, and despite having never spoken to my counsellor about it, I understand completely why my head does the things it does. I understand entirely why I am a paranoid and nervous little girl when faced with the inevitability of seeing Thomson again.
The fucking prick.
Thursday 25 July 2013
Angel
On sunday, I watched episode 22 of season 5 of Angel. Its taken a while to get through it all, mainly because I've had breaks, because Angel is hard to digest in one whack.
Season 1 starts off, its great, you get the feel, its similar but different from Buffy, its got this whole 'dark city' thing, like Gotham, going on. But then (spoiler alert) Doyle dies. And things shift a bit, Wesley turns up, yet he and Cordelia's relationship has totally changed, and he and Angel see face to face, and it is further from Buffy than before. And the rest of season 1 fits in with season 2 and 3 quite nicely. They all follow the same pattern, the same rules, the same logic.
Then the 'shanshu' stuff gets a bit weird. The idea of a pre-destined fate is already an issue in Buffy, and now they're saying that prophecies can be made up? And also, that this prophecy, be it about Angel or about Spike, cannot be denied because someone signed a piece of paper. They basically shit all over religion and say that instead of a God or deity, its some lawyers up there, finding loopholes in contracts and negotiating life and death.
And Connor is a weird one. Like, it makes sense to bring Darla and Angel's stories back together, after years of separation and a soul in the way, but the story development of Connor as a teenager, and Cordelia, and then her demon-possession business and all that stuff... It gets a bit too controversial to believe. Its like they saw the parallels with the bible, and wondered how far they could replace 'divine' with 'demon', and the whole 'a few deaths for the greater good of all mankind' notion, which Angel then destroys, and despite being the protagonist, you do feel a bit like he's the bad guy.
And the last season does too much with too little time, so some issues are just swept right over. Like Eve, and the whole 'creation of the senior partners' business. Like she's the child of a virgin mother, yet is sent to earth to keep order and control within what the partners want, and spy on / sneak around Angel and co, trying to figure out what the Higher Powers are up to.
But I did enjoy it. Its entertaining, it's funny and it's human. The seasons are too long, and the chronology doesn't fit with Buffy, which is annoying, but it does all make sense. The only thing that bugged me the most, as often does with Joss Whedon, is the fact that he left his old cast alive, and killed off / sent away the new kids. The end isn't exactly happy, but it there was ever more to come, its just Angel and Spike (and Illyria) who could have survived.
Best moments? Andrew, Angel and Cordy getting it on, the episode when Buffy is dating the Immortal, and all the little in-jokes and quips. And spike saying about the existence of half-robot-half-humans - "you think people don't have sex with robots? happens more often than you'd think".
Season 1 starts off, its great, you get the feel, its similar but different from Buffy, its got this whole 'dark city' thing, like Gotham, going on. But then (spoiler alert) Doyle dies. And things shift a bit, Wesley turns up, yet he and Cordelia's relationship has totally changed, and he and Angel see face to face, and it is further from Buffy than before. And the rest of season 1 fits in with season 2 and 3 quite nicely. They all follow the same pattern, the same rules, the same logic.
Then the 'shanshu' stuff gets a bit weird. The idea of a pre-destined fate is already an issue in Buffy, and now they're saying that prophecies can be made up? And also, that this prophecy, be it about Angel or about Spike, cannot be denied because someone signed a piece of paper. They basically shit all over religion and say that instead of a God or deity, its some lawyers up there, finding loopholes in contracts and negotiating life and death.
And Connor is a weird one. Like, it makes sense to bring Darla and Angel's stories back together, after years of separation and a soul in the way, but the story development of Connor as a teenager, and Cordelia, and then her demon-possession business and all that stuff... It gets a bit too controversial to believe. Its like they saw the parallels with the bible, and wondered how far they could replace 'divine' with 'demon', and the whole 'a few deaths for the greater good of all mankind' notion, which Angel then destroys, and despite being the protagonist, you do feel a bit like he's the bad guy.
And the last season does too much with too little time, so some issues are just swept right over. Like Eve, and the whole 'creation of the senior partners' business. Like she's the child of a virgin mother, yet is sent to earth to keep order and control within what the partners want, and spy on / sneak around Angel and co, trying to figure out what the Higher Powers are up to.
But I did enjoy it. Its entertaining, it's funny and it's human. The seasons are too long, and the chronology doesn't fit with Buffy, which is annoying, but it does all make sense. The only thing that bugged me the most, as often does with Joss Whedon, is the fact that he left his old cast alive, and killed off / sent away the new kids. The end isn't exactly happy, but it there was ever more to come, its just Angel and Spike (and Illyria) who could have survived.
Best moments? Andrew, Angel and Cordy getting it on, the episode when Buffy is dating the Immortal, and all the little in-jokes and quips. And spike saying about the existence of half-robot-half-humans - "you think people don't have sex with robots? happens more often than you'd think".
Wednesday 24 July 2013
Number Nine
I believed that you were my biggest mistake; that you were the one thing I did wrong and I needed to try correct it in any way possible. I always wanted to protect you; I wanted to take away your pain and anger, your frustration, your insecurities and your problems. Not that I wanted to 'fix' you, because to me you were always the perfect version of you - I just wanted to help you, and make you happy. I don't know what I was ever fighting against or fighting for, because upon reflection, it was me that I needed to protect you from: it was me that caused pain and anger, frustration and insecurities. And I'm really sorry about that. I never wanted to hurt you, and its taken me five years to realise what you really meant to me.
If your happiness is being with her, then I cannot fault that decision. That's all I ever wanted to achieve: to make you happy. But I guess you might actually be happier without me; without me in your life, poking my nose in, asking questions and making your friends and girlfriend feel uncomfortable.
I wrote a short about you. About you and me, about our friendship. And it made everything better, it made me feel less sad about not knowing you anymore, because at least I have the memories that I do, and nothing can ever destroy that. So I plan to make that short script into a short film; not to do anything with, specifically, but just to have in my archive, as a little ode to my memory of you, and I hope that you can understand that.
You are the most interesting, hilarious and ridiculous person I met at uni. I could write a list of more entertaining people on the back of a postage stamp. And for that reason, many of my characters are inspired by you, in one way or another. I hope you can take that as a compliment.
If your happiness is being with her, then I cannot fault that decision. That's all I ever wanted to achieve: to make you happy. But I guess you might actually be happier without me; without me in your life, poking my nose in, asking questions and making your friends and girlfriend feel uncomfortable.
I wrote a short about you. About you and me, about our friendship. And it made everything better, it made me feel less sad about not knowing you anymore, because at least I have the memories that I do, and nothing can ever destroy that. So I plan to make that short script into a short film; not to do anything with, specifically, but just to have in my archive, as a little ode to my memory of you, and I hope that you can understand that.
You are the most interesting, hilarious and ridiculous person I met at uni. I could write a list of more entertaining people on the back of a postage stamp. And for that reason, many of my characters are inspired by you, in one way or another. I hope you can take that as a compliment.
Saturday 20 July 2013
Imperfections
I have a scar on my left shoulder from where I picked at a spot years ago.
I have three moles on my belly that make a line.
I have a scar on my right thigh from the swordfish oil spitting.
I have a scar on my left forearm that only I can see; its very faint, but I know its there, still visible.
I have a skin tag on the right hand side of my neck, but its too far back for me to see.
I have a couple of horrible red marks from ingrowing hairs from when I last epilated: one on my right underarm, one at the top of my right thigh.
There are things about myself that I don't like, and I wish I could change. But this is a list of things that are different. All these affects, these 'imperfections', are things that I cannot change, or actively chose not to (the skin tag, I'm told, can be removed, but I've never been bothered enough to do so). These 'imperfections' are things about my body that are not attractive or endearing, but I have learned to live with and through the knowledge that I cannot change them, have let them become part of who I am. We all have scars, marks and holes in our bodies, but that's what makes us unique. I may not be a different person from having had some swordfish oil burn through my tights and onto my thigh, no - but I equally would not be ashamed of the scar, try to cover it or hide it or spend time effort and money having it removed - because I have come to learn what might be a type of self-acceptance, in its most minor form.
Memories within us cannot be projected outward physically; yet scars are the bodies memories. So most of my 'imperfections' are reminders of what I once did, and who I once was, and all I need to remember is that that version of me was not perfect, and neither is this version of me today, but I know that today I am a better, cleverer, more caring and more thoughtful person than I was then. Scars remind me of self-improvement, so I will never get rid of them.
I have three moles on my belly that make a line.
I have a scar on my right thigh from the swordfish oil spitting.
I have a scar on my left forearm that only I can see; its very faint, but I know its there, still visible.
I have a skin tag on the right hand side of my neck, but its too far back for me to see.
I have a couple of horrible red marks from ingrowing hairs from when I last epilated: one on my right underarm, one at the top of my right thigh.
There are things about myself that I don't like, and I wish I could change. But this is a list of things that are different. All these affects, these 'imperfections', are things that I cannot change, or actively chose not to (the skin tag, I'm told, can be removed, but I've never been bothered enough to do so). These 'imperfections' are things about my body that are not attractive or endearing, but I have learned to live with and through the knowledge that I cannot change them, have let them become part of who I am. We all have scars, marks and holes in our bodies, but that's what makes us unique. I may not be a different person from having had some swordfish oil burn through my tights and onto my thigh, no - but I equally would not be ashamed of the scar, try to cover it or hide it or spend time effort and money having it removed - because I have come to learn what might be a type of self-acceptance, in its most minor form.
Memories within us cannot be projected outward physically; yet scars are the bodies memories. So most of my 'imperfections' are reminders of what I once did, and who I once was, and all I need to remember is that that version of me was not perfect, and neither is this version of me today, but I know that today I am a better, cleverer, more caring and more thoughtful person than I was then. Scars remind me of self-improvement, so I will never get rid of them.
Wednesday 17 July 2013
The Other Henry
I sat in my car for almost an hour chatting with a friend last night. It was gone 1am, and we were mainly discussing mutual friends and their bizarre relationships, but some real issues and thoughts were touched upon. How can men and women be just friends? There are certain lines that cannot be crossed, and certain conventions that must be upheld, but it is possible, it just depends upon the people. And this friend with whom I spoke, asked me a question which I couldn't really truthfully answer. He asked me how I felt about someone, and the answer I gave him was honest, just confused, as I truthfully am. And now, this morning, I feel better for having been asked that question. And I want to thank that friend for asking me, but I know that he'd have no idea why I was thanking him, or what it really all means.
So instead, I will write this short ode: to Henry, for being a blunt guy; for always just saying what he thinks, telling it as it is, and for somehow knowing that of all of Ben's friends who I would also call my own friends, that he is actually the easiest to talk to, despite knowing him for the shortest amount of time.
So instead, I will write this short ode: to Henry, for being a blunt guy; for always just saying what he thinks, telling it as it is, and for somehow knowing that of all of Ben's friends who I would also call my own friends, that he is actually the easiest to talk to, despite knowing him for the shortest amount of time.
Sunday 14 July 2013
Patience is Bitter
Everything has been leading towards this, the whole time, and now that I see it, it seems so obvious, but I never knew that this is where things were leading to. I never would have seen this coming. And now, its only moments away, and I want to reach out, grab it, embrace it and grow from it.
And somehow, daft as it sounds in my own head, I know that he is at the centre of all of this. I know that my happiness, my getting better, my decisions and my motivations can all be centred upon him. And he doesn't know it, but I do. And he doesn't know how much those little things mean to me. And he has no idea of the impact that he's had on my life, and particularly, is about to have. It's exciting yet terrifying. I want to tell him, but I can't. And I'm sure other people know too. Other people are suspicious of my casual happiness, of my good moods and my up-beat nature. And questions are being asked which I know I can't lie about, so instead I'm either avoiding the question or changing it around, answering a different question or starting a funny digression. It won't keep up; they'll notice soon. And he must have noticed, but maybe that's a good thing.
Time will tell.
As Jean-Jacques Rousseau said, "Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet."
And somehow, daft as it sounds in my own head, I know that he is at the centre of all of this. I know that my happiness, my getting better, my decisions and my motivations can all be centred upon him. And he doesn't know it, but I do. And he doesn't know how much those little things mean to me. And he has no idea of the impact that he's had on my life, and particularly, is about to have. It's exciting yet terrifying. I want to tell him, but I can't. And I'm sure other people know too. Other people are suspicious of my casual happiness, of my good moods and my up-beat nature. And questions are being asked which I know I can't lie about, so instead I'm either avoiding the question or changing it around, answering a different question or starting a funny digression. It won't keep up; they'll notice soon. And he must have noticed, but maybe that's a good thing.
Time will tell.
As Jean-Jacques Rousseau said, "Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet."
Sunday 7 July 2013
Hormone Replacements - part II
Yesterday was busy, so today I will reflect, and explain further.
My sister was in pain, and I took her to the GP and the GP feared it might be appendicitis, so yesterday we hauled-ass to the delightful Norfolk and Norwich University Hospital, a stone's throw away from the UEA, and actually a nice hospital. I've only seen pieces of others before, like the time I went the have an ultrasound at Southampton - and the NNUH is quite nice.
So we got there at 5.30pm, and got home at 10.45pm, very hungry and still unaware of what was causing the pain. And I could have waited there all night. My kindle battery died and my phone battery was getting low, but I could have sat with her, waiting for doctors, listening to the same talk of anti-biotics and waterworks for hours more. I wanted to, because I wanted to help her, and help her be back at full health. And I realised, when sitting there, as she tried to sleep on another uncomfortable hospital bed wrapped in blue paper, writhing in pain, that all the other stuff I may have told people about my sister and me, and all the 'drama' and things that have happened, don't really matter in the end. She's been home since the 17th, coming and going from Glastonbury and London and whatnot, but mainly has been here for two weeks. And I'm not sick of her, or in any way angry with her. I feel calmer, and more at peace, and more happy in general. I also don't believe it is a coincidence that this is happening at the same time as other big leaps in my family life: I think that this is actually a very positive step in the 'growing up' process. I genuinely feel the connection that I used to feel when I was very small, and have not felt for a very long time; the feeling of having a sister, a person there for you, who you too are there for, no matter what, because you are sisters for life, no matter what, and other family struggles or arguments will never change that.
So the proposal she gave me looks more appealing than she knows, because I trust myself to be able to succeed, and form a very effective business relationship with my sisters.
My second reflection is of a person I know, and I'm thinking a lot about our relationship at the moment.
It's hard to define how I feel, or what I feel, because I think my toes have nudged too many pools of possibility. We might have been more, we might have been closer, or further apart, or have a very different friendship. But what we are now sits at a crossroads of what we've already done, and what is immediately ahead of us, agreed by both of us, to be the next step in our relationship, and it's a difficult concept to grasp. What if he brings girls home, and I hear them? Or, on the flip side, what if we start watching tv and films together, and as it gets colder, need to snuggle under a blanket? What if one is drunk and the other sober, and something slips out, some unsaid truth is revealed, and changes our already questionable relationship? What if the other flatmate gets caught in all of this too?
I have a lot of worries in my head, but I cannot worry about them, because this is the future I have chosen for myself and I will not change that. But it scares me, what might be around the corner - because it might hurt me, or I might feel like I can't cope, and I might want to go home, but I don't want that to happen. If all else fails, I may just take a quick trip to Italy, clear my head, listen to the voice of reason and calm. And, it's not long until Sam is home. When she comes home, life will make sense to me again. I can feel a goodness, a positivity, just beyond the horizon. I'm just trying to be patient, eagerly awaiting the golden light to wash over me, make me feel human again.
I also had a hilarious message last night from someone, and I'm not sure if I should go there or not. It's like... well, it's like my head has to choose between two different guys, and my goal of two different outcomes: good sex that doesn't last, or wait a while for a good relationship? Right now, I'm picking the latter, but that might not last long.
My sister was in pain, and I took her to the GP and the GP feared it might be appendicitis, so yesterday we hauled-ass to the delightful Norfolk and Norwich University Hospital, a stone's throw away from the UEA, and actually a nice hospital. I've only seen pieces of others before, like the time I went the have an ultrasound at Southampton - and the NNUH is quite nice.
So we got there at 5.30pm, and got home at 10.45pm, very hungry and still unaware of what was causing the pain. And I could have waited there all night. My kindle battery died and my phone battery was getting low, but I could have sat with her, waiting for doctors, listening to the same talk of anti-biotics and waterworks for hours more. I wanted to, because I wanted to help her, and help her be back at full health. And I realised, when sitting there, as she tried to sleep on another uncomfortable hospital bed wrapped in blue paper, writhing in pain, that all the other stuff I may have told people about my sister and me, and all the 'drama' and things that have happened, don't really matter in the end. She's been home since the 17th, coming and going from Glastonbury and London and whatnot, but mainly has been here for two weeks. And I'm not sick of her, or in any way angry with her. I feel calmer, and more at peace, and more happy in general. I also don't believe it is a coincidence that this is happening at the same time as other big leaps in my family life: I think that this is actually a very positive step in the 'growing up' process. I genuinely feel the connection that I used to feel when I was very small, and have not felt for a very long time; the feeling of having a sister, a person there for you, who you too are there for, no matter what, because you are sisters for life, no matter what, and other family struggles or arguments will never change that.
So the proposal she gave me looks more appealing than she knows, because I trust myself to be able to succeed, and form a very effective business relationship with my sisters.
My second reflection is of a person I know, and I'm thinking a lot about our relationship at the moment.
It's hard to define how I feel, or what I feel, because I think my toes have nudged too many pools of possibility. We might have been more, we might have been closer, or further apart, or have a very different friendship. But what we are now sits at a crossroads of what we've already done, and what is immediately ahead of us, agreed by both of us, to be the next step in our relationship, and it's a difficult concept to grasp. What if he brings girls home, and I hear them? Or, on the flip side, what if we start watching tv and films together, and as it gets colder, need to snuggle under a blanket? What if one is drunk and the other sober, and something slips out, some unsaid truth is revealed, and changes our already questionable relationship? What if the other flatmate gets caught in all of this too?
I have a lot of worries in my head, but I cannot worry about them, because this is the future I have chosen for myself and I will not change that. But it scares me, what might be around the corner - because it might hurt me, or I might feel like I can't cope, and I might want to go home, but I don't want that to happen. If all else fails, I may just take a quick trip to Italy, clear my head, listen to the voice of reason and calm. And, it's not long until Sam is home. When she comes home, life will make sense to me again. I can feel a goodness, a positivity, just beyond the horizon. I'm just trying to be patient, eagerly awaiting the golden light to wash over me, make me feel human again.
I also had a hilarious message last night from someone, and I'm not sure if I should go there or not. It's like... well, it's like my head has to choose between two different guys, and my goal of two different outcomes: good sex that doesn't last, or wait a while for a good relationship? Right now, I'm picking the latter, but that might not last long.
Saturday 6 July 2013
Hormone Replacements
Tomorrow, I will tell you about my sister. I will tell the tale of today's adventures in A&E. I will also explain my new epiphany about my family and my feelings towards them.
Tomorrow I will also talk about a boy I know. He's a very special boy, and I want to explain why.
Today has been a good day, overall. Today I have been very busy doing very little. Its strange to reflect on 14 hours of sunlight-bathing and waiting-room sitting. Tomorrow, I will explain further.
Tomorrow, hopefully, my new sunburn will be less new, less bright, less embarrassing. Tomorrow will also be sunny and hot, so I will be more forthcoming with suncream.
Tomorrow I must wake up at 5am to go to work. So this blog entry must now conclude, for I must sleep.
Until tomorrow.
Tomorrow I will also talk about a boy I know. He's a very special boy, and I want to explain why.
Today has been a good day, overall. Today I have been very busy doing very little. Its strange to reflect on 14 hours of sunlight-bathing and waiting-room sitting. Tomorrow, I will explain further.
Tomorrow, hopefully, my new sunburn will be less new, less bright, less embarrassing. Tomorrow will also be sunny and hot, so I will be more forthcoming with suncream.
Tomorrow I must wake up at 5am to go to work. So this blog entry must now conclude, for I must sleep.
Until tomorrow.
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