So, the road trip went well. I spent a lot of money on petrol, but I believe it was worth every penny. It was nice to see everyone and I have some more fun memories to add to the list of why 2013 is better than 2012.
I've since been watching some bizarre things on Youtube. Firstly, the 'shit girls say' videos, which made me die with laughter, as they are so true, and I am guilty of most of the things in the video. And that lead me to the video blog of one Jenna Marbles. I'd heard of her before, somehow, and now I find her voice has resonated in my mind, and my own thoughts sound like her voice. She's just so damn right about most things.
Maria and I went to a little town called Clevedon, near Weston-Super-Mare, to see her sister. We bought sweets (I bought an awesome milkshake), we went the charity shops, we went to a little boutique and I got some new shoes, bag, scarf and necklace, and the sisters got to spend some good time together. Then we drove down to the beach and had a walk on the cliffs and on the rocks, and picked stones. I brought a couple back with me and added them to the plate I have in my room, which consists of: the buddha-shaped incense holder; a shell I picked off Brighton beach which is slightly imperfect, and reminded me of me; stones Milli and I picked at Dunwich beach; stones Maria picked off Thorpeness beach; a few stones I found in my bad after Dukie and Ben weighed my bag down with them on Covehithe beach; a marble from when I was a kid; a couple random things I've forgotten over the years but have added to the plate because they look like they'd belong there. This little plate sits on my windowsill, near my candle, and I never burn my incense anymore because the dust and crap goes all over the white windowsill and Mum tuts a lot, but I like to see them and remember what that plate represents to me. Little chunks of beaches, of marine life, a shell and a bit of slate - it's the world, pressed and changed over time, where I have been, on one plate. It's my version of the world so far, and I can make it what I want, I can add stuff, take stuff away, throw the whole thing away, buy a bigger plate to transfer it to - it is all under my control, I just need to decide what to do with it.
I'm having a lot of trouble with decisions at the moment.
I don't know what I want at all, and I wish I could answer just a couple of the questions in my head, but so far its pretty blank up there.
Do I want a relationship, or do I just like the idea of one? Do I want to leave Norfolk, or do I just want to leave home? Do I want to pursue my dream, or do I want to find a stable job for a while? Would I rather live here unhappy but relatively at ease with having no money, or do I want to move out, be happy, but be broke / even more in debt and panicking about it?
What is actually important to me at the moment, and what could I live without?
Who is important enough to hold on to, and who could I live without / away from?
I have an essay due in two days. Once thats in and done, its dissertation-station. Nothing but that for the next 123 days (four months).
I'm shitting myself a little bit. Here's hoping I can answer those questions and pull through at the last minute.
Tuesday, 30 April 2013
Tuesday, 23 April 2013
My Car and I
We're off on an adventure tonight.
At about quarter to ten this evening, I'll set off, heading for Stansted Airport, where I will be picking up a Maz-shaped person.
We will drive to Bristol, eating chocolate, drinking red bull, maybe even real food will be consumed.
Maybe have a drink in Bristol before heading to the hostel.
Tomorrow morning bright and early will we shimmy down to Weston-Super-Mare to see her half-sister for breakfast / brunch.
We will then drive from WSM to Torquay, Devon. I don't know which parent she's heading to first, but will we no doubt get a bit of lunch or something, and then I will bid farewell to one of my best friends, and set off without her, heading east for Southampton.
Probably early evening time I will arrive, park up at the Travelodge, shower and change, and then go find my boys. Specifically Coates, Will, Al, maybe Macina, and Sophie. And I will buy Coates a birthday drink, and merriment will be had, and if all else fails, Sophie and I will be drinking on a park bench.
Then Thursday morning, we breakfast, probably in Frankie and Bennys. Maybe have a cheeky cocktail too! And maybe even stay long enough to visit the Cowherds. And then I journey back to Norfolk to make it to Norwich for my 7pm shift at the Rumsey.
And that, my friends, is how me and the yaz roll. Just bouncing from place to place, enjoying the smiles and the sunshine.
So I'll see you on the other side!
At about quarter to ten this evening, I'll set off, heading for Stansted Airport, where I will be picking up a Maz-shaped person.
We will drive to Bristol, eating chocolate, drinking red bull, maybe even real food will be consumed.
Maybe have a drink in Bristol before heading to the hostel.
Tomorrow morning bright and early will we shimmy down to Weston-Super-Mare to see her half-sister for breakfast / brunch.
We will then drive from WSM to Torquay, Devon. I don't know which parent she's heading to first, but will we no doubt get a bit of lunch or something, and then I will bid farewell to one of my best friends, and set off without her, heading east for Southampton.
Probably early evening time I will arrive, park up at the Travelodge, shower and change, and then go find my boys. Specifically Coates, Will, Al, maybe Macina, and Sophie. And I will buy Coates a birthday drink, and merriment will be had, and if all else fails, Sophie and I will be drinking on a park bench.
Then Thursday morning, we breakfast, probably in Frankie and Bennys. Maybe have a cheeky cocktail too! And maybe even stay long enough to visit the Cowherds. And then I journey back to Norfolk to make it to Norwich for my 7pm shift at the Rumsey.
And that, my friends, is how me and the yaz roll. Just bouncing from place to place, enjoying the smiles and the sunshine.
So I'll see you on the other side!
Thursday, 18 April 2013
If Music Be the Food of Love, Play On.
Music is in my head all day long. Every car journey I take, I surround myself with my music. Sometimes my dreams have soundtracks, or just one song, which plays in my head as I dream. So over the years, I have associated certain songs with certain people. Not just like 'this one time I was listening to this song and thought of this person so now I call it 'our song'' - no no. These are songs that always, no matter what the situation, make me think of that person. And they always will, because the association can never be broken, only replaced by a stronger association. And so, another list begins:
Evanescence - My Immortal: Helen. She played in non stop one christmas holiday. I also can't hear Viva La Vida because she overplayed that too. Thanks.
Backstreet Boys - Poster Girl: Charlie. When we were in California/Nevada, on greyhounds for hours, and she told me that the few albums I'd put on her tiny pink iPod mini was all she had to listen to, but she really liked the new BSB album. I was so happy, and it reminds me of the sunshine on the West Coast now.
Robbie Williams - Feel: James. Such a cool dude, he loves the Robbie. I love him for that.
System of a Down - Chop Suey / BYOB / Cigaro: Sam. Just us drunkenly singing. Our car trips, our late night shenanigans. Also, Thnks Fr Th Mmrs by Fall Out Boy, and a couple MCR songs always remind me of our youth.
(on that note) Fall Out Boy - Sugar We're Going Down: Kristy. I think we sang it every day for a month. And then the rest of the class heard it, and we were like 'bitch please that is so last month'. LOL.
(thinking about it, not many other songs directly remind of people from school. weird.)
Feeder - High: Barnaby. His favourite song, I'd always listen to it on my way to see him. Makes me think of the warm summer evenings, my moped, the 580 bus, and his dog Jasper.
Rhianna - Umbrella: Shane. Sounds weird, but because they did a cover of the song, and it was one of the best five minutes of all time: the heavens opened, poured, and I just smiled up at him and his best mates on stage.
Fratellis - Chelsea Dagger / Biffy Clyro - Mountains / The Killers - Mr Brightside: Ben. Also, slightly weirdly, some songs from the high school musical films (we watched them together a lot). Also, any other killers or fratellis song. Also, I still get a little lump in my throat when I'm caught off-guard by these songs.
30 Seconds to Mars - From Yesterday / Puddle of Mudd - She Hates Me / The Darkness - I Believe in a Thing Called Love / Limp Bizkit - Rollin': Matt. For the karaoke, obviously, and with From Yesterday, I don't entirely know why. I think it's his favourite 30stm song? But either way, always makes me think of him, every single time.
Death Cab for Cutie - Follow Me into the Dark (/any song) / Charlie Simpson - All At Once: Martin. Oh, and 'I've got five on it', whoever that's by. Makes me smile when I hear them. I guess that's a good thing? Also the Dawson's Creek themes (yes, both of them).
The Proclaimers - I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles): Al. Big Gay Al. Also 'are you gonna be my girl', and bloodhound gang - bad touch. Worrying that I hear that song and think of him, right?
Take That - Shine: Coates.
(Most of these are influenced by karaoke, yes, but we did go every week for like two year, or something absurd. I heard the same songs being sang by the same boys A LOT.)
Kenny Loggins - Footloose / the 'what a feeling' song from flashdance / Rick Astley - Never Gonna Give You Up / Micheal Jackson - Thriller / Billie Jean / etc: Reflex nights. So much hilarious dancing. Filming Macina dancing to Jacko. Me, Sophie and Joanne pelting across the dancefloor when footloose came on. The limbo game. The tacky dancers. Oh, it all comes screaming back, and I love it. Also, memories of necking vodka red bull and/or jaeger bombs. Yum.
David Bowie - Life on Mars (+Ashes to Ashes) / A-Ha - Take On Me / Ultravox - Vienna / Black Eyed Peas - Boom Boom Pow: Sophie. Also, the theme to Jonathan Creek. Driving to Bournemouth, BEP's was the big summer song, and was possibly in our heads all day? Either way, always brings back memories.
That song by Delilah / That dubstep track with the dirty drop / SO MANY SONGS: Maria. So much music was heard from her room over the years, it's hard to think of each song, but whenever I hear those random songs she'd play at full blast first thing, when I'd be casually sitting in the living room eating breakfast, or when we'd tidy the burlington flat, or just any time, I just remember smells and colours, happiness and love. It's so strange, as its not really a specific memory, but it is my memory working in the weirdest way. And I love it. No matter how far apart we are, I can hear those songs and remember so much good stuff, and it cheers me up. I guess thats how friendships could survive before skype was invented! Either way, more so than anyone else, she's got ownership over so many songs in my memory.
Despite having been hanging out together for all our lives, there's not one song I can think of that reminds me of Howarth. How bizarre.
Music is such a strong tool, and I hope that whenever people are reminded of me when they listen to songs, its good things that they remember, not my awful singing.
Friday, 12 April 2013
Gnarls Barkley
A definition of craziness is repeating the same act multiple times but hoping for a different result.
...
So, I'm a crazy person.
But hey, most of you already knew that. I can't imagine anyone is shocked. And there is definitely no sympathy. If anything a bit of envy, as some of the best writers in history have been known to suffer from mental instability or illness.
I just hope I don't go the same way as Zelda Fitzgerald or Sylvia Plath.
...
So, I'm a crazy person.
But hey, most of you already knew that. I can't imagine anyone is shocked. And there is definitely no sympathy. If anything a bit of envy, as some of the best writers in history have been known to suffer from mental instability or illness.
I just hope I don't go the same way as Zelda Fitzgerald or Sylvia Plath.
Wednesday, 10 April 2013
The Oncoming Train
Have I died?
Is this my life, or someone else's? And if it is 'mine', do I control it, or just live within it?
Are the people I once knew the same people, or are they becoming lost from their former selves too? Will we all recognise each other in years to come, or will we all be so estranged from the people we were when we were friends that the recognition is only skin deep?
Can any one hear my screaming?
I want out. I want out of whatever I've put myself into. And every time the woman from the 'anxiety and depression NHS clinic' calls and asks the mandatory questions about if I want to die, have considered dying or am trying to hurt myself in any way, I have to laugh at her. No, I don't want to die, I want to fucking LIVE, and I can't. I'm stuck in this existence without the joy of living, feeling, breathing, laughing and hoping.
I want my life to be back on track. Why did I ever decide to do a masters? Why did I ever decide to move home?
If I had the money, I'd have gone already. But I'm more broke than ever before.
For once, I can tell my ex that yeah, he has a point - money does lead to happiness - only because right now, money would make me happy. In every other situation he's still a douche for saying that no one is happy without money.
Here's hoping he's as miserable as I am, yet with a bank full of dollar.
Is this my life, or someone else's? And if it is 'mine', do I control it, or just live within it?
Are the people I once knew the same people, or are they becoming lost from their former selves too? Will we all recognise each other in years to come, or will we all be so estranged from the people we were when we were friends that the recognition is only skin deep?
Can any one hear my screaming?
I want out. I want out of whatever I've put myself into. And every time the woman from the 'anxiety and depression NHS clinic' calls and asks the mandatory questions about if I want to die, have considered dying or am trying to hurt myself in any way, I have to laugh at her. No, I don't want to die, I want to fucking LIVE, and I can't. I'm stuck in this existence without the joy of living, feeling, breathing, laughing and hoping.
I want my life to be back on track. Why did I ever decide to do a masters? Why did I ever decide to move home?
If I had the money, I'd have gone already. But I'm more broke than ever before.
For once, I can tell my ex that yeah, he has a point - money does lead to happiness - only because right now, money would make me happy. In every other situation he's still a douche for saying that no one is happy without money.
Here's hoping he's as miserable as I am, yet with a bank full of dollar.
Thursday, 14 March 2013
Who I am, 2013
Reading my ex-boyfriend's newly updated blog with official domain name and whatnot (its very swish) got me thinking about personality and our views of ourselves. I could never write something about myself without being in some way 'down' about something: a mixture between my need to write the truth, and my overly critical and insecure nature. But I want to give it a go; try to write an adequate description of myself, how I see me, at this moment in my life.
PHYSICALLY
I'm 5'4" / 5'5" (not entirely sure), which translates roughly as being extremely average height. The only people shorter than me are children, my mother (and aunts) and Chamaale. Most are taller, but not so much that I've ever struggled / been annoyed with my own height. My shape is described as 'pear' by all those magazine dicks, which means I'm fattest in the middle ie. bum and hips and thighs. I've got exceedingly average boobs, 34 B, again the most bog-standard shape / size for a white British girl. My hair is naturally a dirty blonde, so dirty it barely looks like a colour. If you ever try painting a picture, my hair is the colour that the edge of the white paint goes, where you've been adding every other colour to it to make slightly light versions, and they've all blurred into one browney yellowish blur. So I dye my hair, currently it's got two colours of blonde through the tops, and it's growing out very slowly, so it's still neck-length. I have a few moles which are kind of big and ugly - one on the top of my belly, the size of a big pea, and a few other slightly raised ones. I've got a skin-tag thing on the back of my neck which people tell me is easy to remove but because I can't see it, I'm not bothered about removing it. My teeth are whiter than they should be, but not Hollywood-smile white. My eyes are hazel, with bits of dark brown, bits of green, a tiny bit of yellowy gold, and black spots. I have a stigmatism, so I need glasses for reading, but am otherwise fine for driving and whatnot. My eyebrows can't decide if they are blonde or brown, so I constantly have to tweak, darken and trim. Big ears, pierced, one with the piercing on a mole. My nose is not worth comment - I have nothing to say about it, its very average, and the same goes for my mouth. I have something up with my shoulders which means I can't wear boob-tubes / shoulderless dresses without looking proper beefy, so I avoid those clothes now. I get dry skin on my elbows and it really pisses me off. My fingers are short and fat, 'porky digits' like my Dad has, and my nails never get long, never have colour and are seldom looked after at all. My belly-button is half an inny half an outy - its like a malteaser stuck in a hole. My belly is fat, always has been, and sometimes when my IBS is playing up, I can puff out and look 6 months pregnant. True story. I'm a size 14 in the big places, size 12 in the smaller places, which means clothes usually look too big for me as the size 14 clothes are always way too long (particularly jeans). I have size 5 feet, again very average, my big toes both have ingrowing toe nails, have done since I was about 8, and if I wear shoes too tight for my toes they push together and inflame and puss. Its gross. I used to have a birth mark on my right foot and when I was about 17 it just disappeared and I don't know why or how. I have a few scars at the moment - one on the top of my right thigh from cooking swordfish in oil and the oil spitting (I was wearing tights); a couple marks on my knees from little scrapes and cuts over the years; a faint scar on the inside of my left wrist/arm, and my little scars on my face from picking spots. Oh yeah, I have oily skin, loads of black heads, and am so pale most of the time but when the sun comes out I burn like a lobster and get freckles. I also bruise like a peach. In fact, more than a peach - like a banana. Sometimes I don't even remember getting hurt and I'll have a big blue mark. I don't like my figure, I find myself getting angry when I try to dress myself, as I can never feel happy with how I look - I wish I looked nicer. Medically, I have a few problems, but nothing major. Like I said, I've got IBS, it's mainly triggered by wheat and stress, but other things may set it off too. I'm allergic to the morning-after pill. I'm on the contraceptive pill Ovranette for no real reason except to regulate my periods (or just avoid them altogether). I forget to be a girl sometimes, and after a week will realise that my legs and armpits are hairy as jungles. However, my skin is delicate so if I use an old / rusty / snagged razor, my skin becomes very irritable and can sometimes have those little red spots which get really sore. I also can't use certain deodorants because they irritate my skin.
GENETICALLY
Youngest of four, I am the 'spoilt' one according to my sisters, although I beg to differ half the time. I look a lot like both my sisters, less like my brother. I've got my mum's ginger gene in my skin, my hair and my freckles. I'm taller than Mum, and Dad isn't exactly tall, so thats an either/or. I'm angry and passionate like my Dad, and I'm organised and level-headed like my Mum. I've got my aunt's love of baking, and a sense of humour closer to my uncle's than the rest of my family. I've got my Mum's walk, laugh / snort, tendency to snore (when drunk) and lack of control of volume. We've all got our Dad's dark eyes, and he's also responsible for passing on the acne-gene (thanks again Pa). There is twins in my mum's family, and skipped her generation, I actually hope I have that in me too. Oh, and I'm naturally immune so didn't need the BCG jab, which Dad reckons is his doing. I'm not sure which blood group I am, but I think its the same as my Mum, and I think all four of us kids are the same. I think.
MENTALITY
Some times I can catch myself doing something, and wonder 'is this me?' but then that wonder spirals into my questioning that question, because surely whatever you do, whether random or structured or forced to do so, is done by you and therefore can only be defined as 'you', because the only way it wouldn't be you, is if someone else were doing it. I think too much, I talk too fast, and if you get my chatting you'll never shut me up. I'm self-aware and nervous around new people and scary people. I jitter my leg all the time, for no consistent reason. I never think before I speak, and therefore make silly mistakes with mixing up words, or make social faux-pas and go bright red from embarrassment. I'm good at remembering certain things, like lists, if I give myself an order - the best way of remembering all 50 states without forgetting 1 is by remembering how many there are of which letters ie. a =5, c=2, d=1, f=1, g=1, h=1, i=4, k=2, l=1, m=8, n=8, o=3, p=1, r=1, s=2, t=2, u=1, v=2, w=4. I can remember that pattern, so can recall all 50 easily. This helps when I'm serving customers as I look at their face and remember how many people are eating / drinking, and the sight of their face reminds me what they asked for because I repeat it back. I don't know how my memory works, but it does, and I love it. I like to teach myself things because I don't think I'm clever enough / well-learned enough to be as old and 'educated' as I am. I have lists and lists of everything. I have to make lists to feel organised. I also have to clean - I hate seeing messes, they drive me insane. Sometimes, when I'm trying to sort my life out, I need to go find a mess to clean up to feel better. Having lived in this house for 11 months now, there is little left to sort, so I like to go to Ben's house and clean up his room, as it is guaranteed to always be messy. I like reading but it sends me to sleep. I have watched to few films in the last year I could probably recount them all in five minutes, because there can't be more than 10. I'm more into TV than film, because I love the character development, and I will easily cry at most things. I cried at the Big Bang Theory the other day. I love dogs and wish I had one, and I love all animals in general because since I was a kid I've always believed that there is a communication I can have with them which no one else understands but us. I keep having dreams about getting married and having babies, which is awkward as I've never been more single than I am right now. I like talking to myself. I love singing, but I know I can't hold a tune at all so get very nervous about singing near other people, unless I'm on a burger van, in which case I just don't give a damn. I'm bossy and strict when I have to be, and I can lead a team and keep people going through hellish shifts on burger vans and bars. I also really enjoy working for other people where I don't have to be responsible and leadery - washing up for five hours is so easy and mundane, or pulling pints endlessly, or cleaning call centres. With the exception to this morning, as I overslept and missed work, I am a hard worker and I get competitive and like to be the best. I'm still chuffed today that I was literally the best in my class at uni - knowing how hard all my friends worked does make me wish they could share in my joy of excelling, but its still a great feeling to be told that you alone achieved that greatness. Recently I've realised how wrong my old lecturer was - I am not academic, I just get my teeth into things, and projects excite me much more than essays. I love baking, cooking my own food, the satisfaction of getting shit done and having a tidy home, clean nice smelling clothes, organised drawers and neatly stacked things. I miss the Sims, and wish I could play it today. I'm so easily hooked by things, be it a TV show, computer game, best friend, boyfriend, boy that I wish was my boyfriend, new favourite jumper, blueberry muffins, or the eternal joy of sleeping and dreaming. I remember dreams so well that it scares me and I wonder if there is something wrong with my brain. I think at the moment that I'm working myself too hard, but the minute I stop, I look around and I feel so shit and I don't want to start again. I think I'm depressed and I need to get out of this house, and I've been reflecting on this year and what it's all been worth, because so far it doesn't feel worth it.
PEOPLE
I don't want to remember these last 11 months. I hope they fall away into a hole in my brain. My lists remember them, though, and I have seen a few additions to various lists since I came home last April.
12, 13, 14 and 15 are all not really worth mentioning. I don't know if I even want to count 14, as it wasn't actual sex, but I guess if 1 counts, I may as well count this too. 12 was just a brief fancy, a rebound thing, and I realised how fucking crazy and confusing and annoying he was, and it all fell spectacularly into the ocean. 13 was a one night thing, a notch in the bedpost, and if I ever want to go for a drink at the Locks I forget that I have to see him, but its not that bad. 15 I'll never see again, was a one night stand in devon which was very ridiculous and I don't entirely know why I did it but evidently I did. and 14, like I said, I don't know if I should count it, because it was a girl, and there was no actual sex.
My masters has so far cost me £4350 and I have a 63 average. I haven't done as well as I know I could have, but I don't think I can turn back the clocks and re-do the worst essays. I don't know if I would want to, at this stage in the game. As much as I'd love to get a first for my masters, I don't have the energy or motivation to do so.
I've made some new friends, and gotten closer to some old friends. There's Jasmine, who is no longer Ben's girlfriend, but still my friend, much to Ben's annoyance. Then Jas' family, who are all lovely, and will always have a sofa for me if I need it. The people at uni are good people, but I haven't got to know them that well, and I don't know how much they are 'friends for life', in the same way that I knew, when finishing solent, who I would keep in contact with. There's Miriam, Fran, Anne, Zoe and Moe, Cindy and Erin, and the other Asian girls who are all lovely. There's Tom and Ben, who are good people to debate with in class, but we will all go our separate ways. I will still have them on facebook, but that will probably be it. The guys at the pub are all great to chat with, and easy to get along with - Nick and Thom, Lydia and Katy. Thom's now leaving, which is a shame, as its fun to chat to a guy about Glee every week. Also chat with the daily local guy Adas, who gives me tips on baking, and the chef Finn, who used to work for my parents (small world, is Norfolk). At Aviva, I've gotten to know Penny really well, and its lovely having someone to have a laugh with every morning, and Justin is a great guy too, but probably wouldn't join in on our ridiculous games. The people I clean for are all interesting and kind in their own ways too: Paul is a very simple and kind person, and I imagine when Will Sale is older, will be just like him. Su is a nice lady, and her kids are pretty funny, if very loud and ridiculous. Pram, Vaughn and the kids I used to clean for were very interesting and engaging too.
Most of my year (11 months) has been spent with Ben. I got close to Henry, and his friends Dan and Chris, but now will only really speak to Dan. I've also got to know Dan's sister Becky a bit, as well as Ben's cousin Isobel, who I've always known, but never really got to know, you know? And the locks kids, Steph and Chris, still hang around sometimes. And Jasmine's cousin Henry has recently been drinking with us more. And Arthur's come back into the county recently, and Ed is still around, and Luke and Dukie and Jack, and I met Jack's girlfriend the other day and she seems really nice (and looks loads like Anna from The O.C.). Oh, and we have a few new staff members who are nice, like Tom (although he's very quiet), and Sarah, and Debbie.
I say all this because all these people around me on a regular basis are not changing anything about the way I feel. I think I need counselling, because my head is such a mess at the moment, and I hate messes. And above all other things, the one thing confusing me most at this moment is just why I'm doing all this. Why do I have five jobs? To pay for my masters. Why am I doing a masters? To get a good job. I can't do well in masters whilst working five jobs, I literally don't have the time or energy or motivation or desire to stay up all night. I have been on and off ill for three weeks now, and it's messing with my head. I don't want to be in Norfolk, but I have absolutely no way out. And I'm just going round in circles, hating every thought I have, wishing I could just go to sleep and it would all go away and I could wait until next month to deal with all of this.
I'm so stuck. And I feel so miserable all of the time and I hate it. I wish I could feel happier. I wish I could smile and cheer up the world, instead of bringing it down with me. But I'm stuck.
PHYSICALLY
I'm 5'4" / 5'5" (not entirely sure), which translates roughly as being extremely average height. The only people shorter than me are children, my mother (and aunts) and Chamaale. Most are taller, but not so much that I've ever struggled / been annoyed with my own height. My shape is described as 'pear' by all those magazine dicks, which means I'm fattest in the middle ie. bum and hips and thighs. I've got exceedingly average boobs, 34 B, again the most bog-standard shape / size for a white British girl. My hair is naturally a dirty blonde, so dirty it barely looks like a colour. If you ever try painting a picture, my hair is the colour that the edge of the white paint goes, where you've been adding every other colour to it to make slightly light versions, and they've all blurred into one browney yellowish blur. So I dye my hair, currently it's got two colours of blonde through the tops, and it's growing out very slowly, so it's still neck-length. I have a few moles which are kind of big and ugly - one on the top of my belly, the size of a big pea, and a few other slightly raised ones. I've got a skin-tag thing on the back of my neck which people tell me is easy to remove but because I can't see it, I'm not bothered about removing it. My teeth are whiter than they should be, but not Hollywood-smile white. My eyes are hazel, with bits of dark brown, bits of green, a tiny bit of yellowy gold, and black spots. I have a stigmatism, so I need glasses for reading, but am otherwise fine for driving and whatnot. My eyebrows can't decide if they are blonde or brown, so I constantly have to tweak, darken and trim. Big ears, pierced, one with the piercing on a mole. My nose is not worth comment - I have nothing to say about it, its very average, and the same goes for my mouth. I have something up with my shoulders which means I can't wear boob-tubes / shoulderless dresses without looking proper beefy, so I avoid those clothes now. I get dry skin on my elbows and it really pisses me off. My fingers are short and fat, 'porky digits' like my Dad has, and my nails never get long, never have colour and are seldom looked after at all. My belly-button is half an inny half an outy - its like a malteaser stuck in a hole. My belly is fat, always has been, and sometimes when my IBS is playing up, I can puff out and look 6 months pregnant. True story. I'm a size 14 in the big places, size 12 in the smaller places, which means clothes usually look too big for me as the size 14 clothes are always way too long (particularly jeans). I have size 5 feet, again very average, my big toes both have ingrowing toe nails, have done since I was about 8, and if I wear shoes too tight for my toes they push together and inflame and puss. Its gross. I used to have a birth mark on my right foot and when I was about 17 it just disappeared and I don't know why or how. I have a few scars at the moment - one on the top of my right thigh from cooking swordfish in oil and the oil spitting (I was wearing tights); a couple marks on my knees from little scrapes and cuts over the years; a faint scar on the inside of my left wrist/arm, and my little scars on my face from picking spots. Oh yeah, I have oily skin, loads of black heads, and am so pale most of the time but when the sun comes out I burn like a lobster and get freckles. I also bruise like a peach. In fact, more than a peach - like a banana. Sometimes I don't even remember getting hurt and I'll have a big blue mark. I don't like my figure, I find myself getting angry when I try to dress myself, as I can never feel happy with how I look - I wish I looked nicer. Medically, I have a few problems, but nothing major. Like I said, I've got IBS, it's mainly triggered by wheat and stress, but other things may set it off too. I'm allergic to the morning-after pill. I'm on the contraceptive pill Ovranette for no real reason except to regulate my periods (or just avoid them altogether). I forget to be a girl sometimes, and after a week will realise that my legs and armpits are hairy as jungles. However, my skin is delicate so if I use an old / rusty / snagged razor, my skin becomes very irritable and can sometimes have those little red spots which get really sore. I also can't use certain deodorants because they irritate my skin.
GENETICALLY
Youngest of four, I am the 'spoilt' one according to my sisters, although I beg to differ half the time. I look a lot like both my sisters, less like my brother. I've got my mum's ginger gene in my skin, my hair and my freckles. I'm taller than Mum, and Dad isn't exactly tall, so thats an either/or. I'm angry and passionate like my Dad, and I'm organised and level-headed like my Mum. I've got my aunt's love of baking, and a sense of humour closer to my uncle's than the rest of my family. I've got my Mum's walk, laugh / snort, tendency to snore (when drunk) and lack of control of volume. We've all got our Dad's dark eyes, and he's also responsible for passing on the acne-gene (thanks again Pa). There is twins in my mum's family, and skipped her generation, I actually hope I have that in me too. Oh, and I'm naturally immune so didn't need the BCG jab, which Dad reckons is his doing. I'm not sure which blood group I am, but I think its the same as my Mum, and I think all four of us kids are the same. I think.
MENTALITY
Some times I can catch myself doing something, and wonder 'is this me?' but then that wonder spirals into my questioning that question, because surely whatever you do, whether random or structured or forced to do so, is done by you and therefore can only be defined as 'you', because the only way it wouldn't be you, is if someone else were doing it. I think too much, I talk too fast, and if you get my chatting you'll never shut me up. I'm self-aware and nervous around new people and scary people. I jitter my leg all the time, for no consistent reason. I never think before I speak, and therefore make silly mistakes with mixing up words, or make social faux-pas and go bright red from embarrassment. I'm good at remembering certain things, like lists, if I give myself an order - the best way of remembering all 50 states without forgetting 1 is by remembering how many there are of which letters ie. a =5, c=2, d=1, f=1, g=1, h=1, i=4, k=2, l=1, m=8, n=8, o=3, p=1, r=1, s=2, t=2, u=1, v=2, w=4. I can remember that pattern, so can recall all 50 easily. This helps when I'm serving customers as I look at their face and remember how many people are eating / drinking, and the sight of their face reminds me what they asked for because I repeat it back. I don't know how my memory works, but it does, and I love it. I like to teach myself things because I don't think I'm clever enough / well-learned enough to be as old and 'educated' as I am. I have lists and lists of everything. I have to make lists to feel organised. I also have to clean - I hate seeing messes, they drive me insane. Sometimes, when I'm trying to sort my life out, I need to go find a mess to clean up to feel better. Having lived in this house for 11 months now, there is little left to sort, so I like to go to Ben's house and clean up his room, as it is guaranteed to always be messy. I like reading but it sends me to sleep. I have watched to few films in the last year I could probably recount them all in five minutes, because there can't be more than 10. I'm more into TV than film, because I love the character development, and I will easily cry at most things. I cried at the Big Bang Theory the other day. I love dogs and wish I had one, and I love all animals in general because since I was a kid I've always believed that there is a communication I can have with them which no one else understands but us. I keep having dreams about getting married and having babies, which is awkward as I've never been more single than I am right now. I like talking to myself. I love singing, but I know I can't hold a tune at all so get very nervous about singing near other people, unless I'm on a burger van, in which case I just don't give a damn. I'm bossy and strict when I have to be, and I can lead a team and keep people going through hellish shifts on burger vans and bars. I also really enjoy working for other people where I don't have to be responsible and leadery - washing up for five hours is so easy and mundane, or pulling pints endlessly, or cleaning call centres. With the exception to this morning, as I overslept and missed work, I am a hard worker and I get competitive and like to be the best. I'm still chuffed today that I was literally the best in my class at uni - knowing how hard all my friends worked does make me wish they could share in my joy of excelling, but its still a great feeling to be told that you alone achieved that greatness. Recently I've realised how wrong my old lecturer was - I am not academic, I just get my teeth into things, and projects excite me much more than essays. I love baking, cooking my own food, the satisfaction of getting shit done and having a tidy home, clean nice smelling clothes, organised drawers and neatly stacked things. I miss the Sims, and wish I could play it today. I'm so easily hooked by things, be it a TV show, computer game, best friend, boyfriend, boy that I wish was my boyfriend, new favourite jumper, blueberry muffins, or the eternal joy of sleeping and dreaming. I remember dreams so well that it scares me and I wonder if there is something wrong with my brain. I think at the moment that I'm working myself too hard, but the minute I stop, I look around and I feel so shit and I don't want to start again. I think I'm depressed and I need to get out of this house, and I've been reflecting on this year and what it's all been worth, because so far it doesn't feel worth it.
PEOPLE
I don't want to remember these last 11 months. I hope they fall away into a hole in my brain. My lists remember them, though, and I have seen a few additions to various lists since I came home last April.
12, 13, 14 and 15 are all not really worth mentioning. I don't know if I even want to count 14, as it wasn't actual sex, but I guess if 1 counts, I may as well count this too. 12 was just a brief fancy, a rebound thing, and I realised how fucking crazy and confusing and annoying he was, and it all fell spectacularly into the ocean. 13 was a one night thing, a notch in the bedpost, and if I ever want to go for a drink at the Locks I forget that I have to see him, but its not that bad. 15 I'll never see again, was a one night stand in devon which was very ridiculous and I don't entirely know why I did it but evidently I did. and 14, like I said, I don't know if I should count it, because it was a girl, and there was no actual sex.
My masters has so far cost me £4350 and I have a 63 average. I haven't done as well as I know I could have, but I don't think I can turn back the clocks and re-do the worst essays. I don't know if I would want to, at this stage in the game. As much as I'd love to get a first for my masters, I don't have the energy or motivation to do so.
I've made some new friends, and gotten closer to some old friends. There's Jasmine, who is no longer Ben's girlfriend, but still my friend, much to Ben's annoyance. Then Jas' family, who are all lovely, and will always have a sofa for me if I need it. The people at uni are good people, but I haven't got to know them that well, and I don't know how much they are 'friends for life', in the same way that I knew, when finishing solent, who I would keep in contact with. There's Miriam, Fran, Anne, Zoe and Moe, Cindy and Erin, and the other Asian girls who are all lovely. There's Tom and Ben, who are good people to debate with in class, but we will all go our separate ways. I will still have them on facebook, but that will probably be it. The guys at the pub are all great to chat with, and easy to get along with - Nick and Thom, Lydia and Katy. Thom's now leaving, which is a shame, as its fun to chat to a guy about Glee every week. Also chat with the daily local guy Adas, who gives me tips on baking, and the chef Finn, who used to work for my parents (small world, is Norfolk). At Aviva, I've gotten to know Penny really well, and its lovely having someone to have a laugh with every morning, and Justin is a great guy too, but probably wouldn't join in on our ridiculous games. The people I clean for are all interesting and kind in their own ways too: Paul is a very simple and kind person, and I imagine when Will Sale is older, will be just like him. Su is a nice lady, and her kids are pretty funny, if very loud and ridiculous. Pram, Vaughn and the kids I used to clean for were very interesting and engaging too.
Most of my year (11 months) has been spent with Ben. I got close to Henry, and his friends Dan and Chris, but now will only really speak to Dan. I've also got to know Dan's sister Becky a bit, as well as Ben's cousin Isobel, who I've always known, but never really got to know, you know? And the locks kids, Steph and Chris, still hang around sometimes. And Jasmine's cousin Henry has recently been drinking with us more. And Arthur's come back into the county recently, and Ed is still around, and Luke and Dukie and Jack, and I met Jack's girlfriend the other day and she seems really nice (and looks loads like Anna from The O.C.). Oh, and we have a few new staff members who are nice, like Tom (although he's very quiet), and Sarah, and Debbie.
I say all this because all these people around me on a regular basis are not changing anything about the way I feel. I think I need counselling, because my head is such a mess at the moment, and I hate messes. And above all other things, the one thing confusing me most at this moment is just why I'm doing all this. Why do I have five jobs? To pay for my masters. Why am I doing a masters? To get a good job. I can't do well in masters whilst working five jobs, I literally don't have the time or energy or motivation or desire to stay up all night. I have been on and off ill for three weeks now, and it's messing with my head. I don't want to be in Norfolk, but I have absolutely no way out. And I'm just going round in circles, hating every thought I have, wishing I could just go to sleep and it would all go away and I could wait until next month to deal with all of this.
I'm so stuck. And I feel so miserable all of the time and I hate it. I wish I could feel happier. I wish I could smile and cheer up the world, instead of bringing it down with me. But I'm stuck.
Friday, 8 March 2013
In Memory
I've spoken about death before. When my Grandad died, I wrote a blog about it. In my OCD-mind I have a list of everything, including the funerals which I have been to. It seems insensitive to write it up, but in my head it clicks away, each time something notable happens, it clicks into a list in my mind, and last week I attended a memorial for someone. It was the sixth funeral / memorial service I have attended, and the worst. By far.
It was in the news that hostages in an Algerian oil rig were killed when the Algerian forces (police, maybe?) decided to raid the place, despite the threats to kill the 27-odd people they had held captive. Six of these hostages were British. One of them was called Sebastian John. He was only 26 when he was murdered for absolutely no reason. He was only 26, but a cathedral was filled last Wednesday as we remembered his life.
He went to school with my brother. They were best friends from age 11, caught the bus together, played rugby and golf and other sports together, and he spent a lot of time with our family in those first three or four years. Then they moved up to Happisburgh, so we didn't see him at home any more, but James still saw him at school, played rugby, and were good friends through the whole of their school careers. He came on a holiday with us when I was about 8 or 9, so they would have been 12 or 13. We went to Gran Canaria, and went on a catamaran out to sea, and it had a big floating trampoline which we had great fun on. We would hang out after dinner, me James and Seb, walking around the resorts, playing mini-golf at midnight. I used to really fancy him, because he was such a nice guy, and was really nice to me, and on one of the last nights of that holiday we went to a different resort for dinner and a party, they had a bad disco, and James refused to dance, so me and Seb were dancing to the Mel C song 'Northern Star'.
Seb finished school with excellent grades, went to Loughborough to study Civil Engineering, and achieved amazing things. He met his wife at university. He was offered a job as President's assistant for the ICE, which only 6 people in the UK have the privilege of being at one time. He got a first, got a job with BP, and was shipped out to Algeria. He had a wife and a nine-month-old son called Ralf. He had his life at his feet, and it was ripped away from him. His wife's speech, about the man she loved, her soul mate, left a lump in everyone's throats, a tear in the eye, and a sadness so deep in the soul. His best friend Tom made a speech, and all his fellow classmates, who hadn't stood together in that cathedral for nine years, stood proudly together and sang their old school hymn, Jerusalem, just like they used to when standing shoulder to shoulder with Seb. The memorial was to celebrate his life, but the day was tainted with an air of sadness; they were all reuniting in their school after less than a decade for the wrong reasons. They were burying and saying their condolences to friends about a man who they all remembered so fondly, so lovingly, and it was such a shame to have lost such a happy, kind and caring person.
In memory of Seb John: may the things you left behind gives us power and grace in the next 26 years, building towards the brighter, better future you dreamed of. May Ralf be blessed with at least half of the kindness and beauty which you emitted every day. May Nikola remember the love, and go on with her on life, happy in the knowledge that she knew of a love so strong and incredible.
May your soul be at peace, and may we all take a moment in our lives, years later, to feel the way in which you impacted each life you touched for the better. You were the first Boys School crush I ever had, and it seems strange to think back to a time I barely remember, to wonder if you'd remember it too. I will not forget your face; I will not forget the lessons I have been taught through your life and your death. I will not forget.
It was in the news that hostages in an Algerian oil rig were killed when the Algerian forces (police, maybe?) decided to raid the place, despite the threats to kill the 27-odd people they had held captive. Six of these hostages were British. One of them was called Sebastian John. He was only 26 when he was murdered for absolutely no reason. He was only 26, but a cathedral was filled last Wednesday as we remembered his life.
He went to school with my brother. They were best friends from age 11, caught the bus together, played rugby and golf and other sports together, and he spent a lot of time with our family in those first three or four years. Then they moved up to Happisburgh, so we didn't see him at home any more, but James still saw him at school, played rugby, and were good friends through the whole of their school careers. He came on a holiday with us when I was about 8 or 9, so they would have been 12 or 13. We went to Gran Canaria, and went on a catamaran out to sea, and it had a big floating trampoline which we had great fun on. We would hang out after dinner, me James and Seb, walking around the resorts, playing mini-golf at midnight. I used to really fancy him, because he was such a nice guy, and was really nice to me, and on one of the last nights of that holiday we went to a different resort for dinner and a party, they had a bad disco, and James refused to dance, so me and Seb were dancing to the Mel C song 'Northern Star'.
Seb finished school with excellent grades, went to Loughborough to study Civil Engineering, and achieved amazing things. He met his wife at university. He was offered a job as President's assistant for the ICE, which only 6 people in the UK have the privilege of being at one time. He got a first, got a job with BP, and was shipped out to Algeria. He had a wife and a nine-month-old son called Ralf. He had his life at his feet, and it was ripped away from him. His wife's speech, about the man she loved, her soul mate, left a lump in everyone's throats, a tear in the eye, and a sadness so deep in the soul. His best friend Tom made a speech, and all his fellow classmates, who hadn't stood together in that cathedral for nine years, stood proudly together and sang their old school hymn, Jerusalem, just like they used to when standing shoulder to shoulder with Seb. The memorial was to celebrate his life, but the day was tainted with an air of sadness; they were all reuniting in their school after less than a decade for the wrong reasons. They were burying and saying their condolences to friends about a man who they all remembered so fondly, so lovingly, and it was such a shame to have lost such a happy, kind and caring person.
In memory of Seb John: may the things you left behind gives us power and grace in the next 26 years, building towards the brighter, better future you dreamed of. May Ralf be blessed with at least half of the kindness and beauty which you emitted every day. May Nikola remember the love, and go on with her on life, happy in the knowledge that she knew of a love so strong and incredible.
May your soul be at peace, and may we all take a moment in our lives, years later, to feel the way in which you impacted each life you touched for the better. You were the first Boys School crush I ever had, and it seems strange to think back to a time I barely remember, to wonder if you'd remember it too. I will not forget your face; I will not forget the lessons I have been taught through your life and your death. I will not forget.
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