It is 6am.
I haven't slept since yesterday morning.
I am very tired.
I can't even go for a jog to clear my fuzzy brain as it is raining heavily and the river will be flooded along my usual route. Plus I don't really want to get wet as I felt really fluey yesterday and the sniffles have only just started to subside.
I have written three posts today (or yesterday, whatever). Can you get addicted to blogging? Has got to be healthier than the cigarettes and vodka I guess....
I have been writing much more recently though. Not that anybody is reading it. I don't know whether I would be happy if lots of people read my blog.
Should I want them to?
I've left a couple of comments on others people's blogs but I always feel like an intruder when I do. Even though there are a few that I read regularly, and if you're posting something on a public forum, surely you expect some sort of feedback?!
My problem is, I don't really know anybody else who blogs, so I don't know what the 'Internet etiquette' system is. I have no idea what's acceptable and what's not. I don't know whether I should be 'getting out there' and 'networking' trying to make lots of new Internet buddies so we can visit each others blogs and get those stats up! Is that what people do? I just don't know.
I'm not really a particularly friendly person in the real world. Well, I am but not straight away. I don't make a warm and fluffy first impression. I am a very loyal and loving friend but I take my time getting to know people. You can't really do that here. Or you can, but the person you're getting to know has no idea that you spend ten minutes a day dipping into their life. I think that's why reading other people's blogs makes me feel a bit strange. It's fairly voyeuristic but not at the same time because you only get to see what they want you to see. You can make yourself sound like Really Great Fun when you're actually a systems analyst who knits and plays chess for kicks.
If anybody is reading this, I could really use some advice. Or just a bit of reassurance. Or a hello....
Friday 20 July 2007
Don't Believe The Stereotype!!
As a gay woman, I really should know better than to believe in stereotypes regarding other 'social groups'.
I do not own a pair of dungarees. I do not wear lumberjack shirts. I don't have a man's hair-cut nor do I weigh twenty stone. I don't work as a bus driver. I don't live in Brighton. I don't drink lager in a tankard. I avoid starting fights with large men if they throw a sideways glance at my girlfriend when we're out in public. Nobody has, to my knowledge, mistaken me for a boy recently.
In fact there is very little, in my outward appearance, to suggest that I might be gay. (I prefer that term to 'lesbian' as that word is so very synonymous to me of all the things that I am not.)
So you would think that I would avoid using stock stereotypes when it comes to making important decisions about other people.
Unfortunately for us, when my girlfriend and I first moved in together, we got ourselves a flatmate. We couldn't stay in my old flat as my Evil Ex wouldn't give me his key back or sign off the joint bank account until I signed the paperwork to give my notice to leave it. Ho Hum. Anyway, as our flatmate was a gay man, I stupidly assumed that he would be fastidious about housework, a great cook And incredibly tasteful and stylish when it came to decorating.
Not so.
He was the biggest, fattest, laziest slob I've ever met. His contribution to personalising the flat was a collection of nasty, cheap ceramic tigers, all of which were huge and a display cabinet held together with bits of gaffa tape and tin foil. Even now I have nightmares about those damn ugly tigers. Ugh.
He never once cleaned the bathroom or the kitchen. We would go out to work in the morning, leaving the flat clean and tidy. When we got home, he would have used every single plate, pot, pan, bowl and item of cutlery in our absence. Along with about a litre of cooking oil scorched on to the hob.
It was awful.
Then he got a boyfriend. The boyfriend was married with children. I'm not a hugely judgemental person (we All f*ck up from time to time) but they used to sit slagging his wife off something chronic. It made my blood boil because although she may well have been Attila The Hun, having the husband that you've invested half your life with running off with another man is just Not Nice. And it made me uncomfortable to hear my flatmate moaning about the time his new-found beau would spend with his children. The whole situation was pretty yucky.
The two of them were as vile as each other when it came to hygiene. And they were on My computer all day and night (until I removed all the wires from it one evening when they'd pissed me off one time too many). The new boyfriend didn't contribute anything to the household bills for Two Months. He was quite happy to drain all the resources, but when it came to paying for them it was a different story. To top it off, the original flatmate decided to quit his job and go unemployed for a while, so they got even worse with the bill-paying.
One day, we dropped home from work on our lunch-break. It was unplanned, I'd forgotten something or was waiting on a letter, I forget exactly why now. Our two Evil flatmates were loading their possessions (along with some of ours) into a van. And looking rather shocked to see us!
They pretty much screwed us over, and to this day still owe me about £800. I'll never get it back but I heard recently that Mr Married went back to his (clearly stupid) wife which is revenge enough for me.
The moral of the story is, don't let your brain trick you into believing in stereotypes. Because in life, these stock characters just don't exist. I'm sure there are gay men out there who have beautiful, well kept homes (I actually know several) but if you choose to share your home with one, check out his current address first. He might just turn out to be a pig in diva's clothing!
I do not own a pair of dungarees. I do not wear lumberjack shirts. I don't have a man's hair-cut nor do I weigh twenty stone. I don't work as a bus driver. I don't live in Brighton. I don't drink lager in a tankard. I avoid starting fights with large men if they throw a sideways glance at my girlfriend when we're out in public. Nobody has, to my knowledge, mistaken me for a boy recently.
In fact there is very little, in my outward appearance, to suggest that I might be gay. (I prefer that term to 'lesbian' as that word is so very synonymous to me of all the things that I am not.)
So you would think that I would avoid using stock stereotypes when it comes to making important decisions about other people.
Unfortunately for us, when my girlfriend and I first moved in together, we got ourselves a flatmate. We couldn't stay in my old flat as my Evil Ex wouldn't give me his key back or sign off the joint bank account until I signed the paperwork to give my notice to leave it. Ho Hum. Anyway, as our flatmate was a gay man, I stupidly assumed that he would be fastidious about housework, a great cook And incredibly tasteful and stylish when it came to decorating.
Not so.
He was the biggest, fattest, laziest slob I've ever met. His contribution to personalising the flat was a collection of nasty, cheap ceramic tigers, all of which were huge and a display cabinet held together with bits of gaffa tape and tin foil. Even now I have nightmares about those damn ugly tigers. Ugh.
He never once cleaned the bathroom or the kitchen. We would go out to work in the morning, leaving the flat clean and tidy. When we got home, he would have used every single plate, pot, pan, bowl and item of cutlery in our absence. Along with about a litre of cooking oil scorched on to the hob.
It was awful.
Then he got a boyfriend. The boyfriend was married with children. I'm not a hugely judgemental person (we All f*ck up from time to time) but they used to sit slagging his wife off something chronic. It made my blood boil because although she may well have been Attila The Hun, having the husband that you've invested half your life with running off with another man is just Not Nice. And it made me uncomfortable to hear my flatmate moaning about the time his new-found beau would spend with his children. The whole situation was pretty yucky.
The two of them were as vile as each other when it came to hygiene. And they were on My computer all day and night (until I removed all the wires from it one evening when they'd pissed me off one time too many). The new boyfriend didn't contribute anything to the household bills for Two Months. He was quite happy to drain all the resources, but when it came to paying for them it was a different story. To top it off, the original flatmate decided to quit his job and go unemployed for a while, so they got even worse with the bill-paying.
One day, we dropped home from work on our lunch-break. It was unplanned, I'd forgotten something or was waiting on a letter, I forget exactly why now. Our two Evil flatmates were loading their possessions (along with some of ours) into a van. And looking rather shocked to see us!
They pretty much screwed us over, and to this day still owe me about £800. I'll never get it back but I heard recently that Mr Married went back to his (clearly stupid) wife which is revenge enough for me.
The moral of the story is, don't let your brain trick you into believing in stereotypes. Because in life, these stock characters just don't exist. I'm sure there are gay men out there who have beautiful, well kept homes (I actually know several) but if you choose to share your home with one, check out his current address first. He might just turn out to be a pig in diva's clothing!
Thursday 19 July 2007
I Hate It When I Get What I Want.....
I now have a job interview on Monday morning.
I am Very Scared.
It has been a year since my last job interview, and the last one I had didn't go very well.
This was largely because it was for a job within the gaming industry, and the people who were interviewing me had no intention of giving me the job I'd applied for as it transpired they were actually only promoting internally, but had to offer the job outside the company to fulfill legal requirements. And they were blatantly Office people who asked me questions like-
"When was the last time that you were part of an award-winning team!"
And didn't ask me questions about all the relevant experience that I had. Or the fact I was already in possession of most of the certificates that the other candidates would be gaining whilst in their new position. Needless to say, it left me feeling Very Annoyed that although I was apparently the Most Intelligent Person ever to take their stupid literacy and numeracy tests, (Oh yes, this was the longest, most drawn out interview process I have Ever been through) according to them, I had the Best test results they had Ever seen in the whole history of recruiting people into their corporate evil empire, I was still not good enough. And this was for a job that, on paper, I was so horribly overqualified for it was ridiculous.
They Did offer me a large number of other positions, and I got a bit of revenge by stringing them along for a few months, getting them to up their offers several times before I turned them down. They messed me about, and being able to say thanks but no thanks at the end after they attempted to con me into a position that was quite a bit back down the ladder from where I'd already worked my backside off to get to, was ultimately a hollow victory. But it made me feel a bit better at the time.
That experience has left me a bit wary of being interviewed again although, as I will be unemployed in three weeks time, I am going to have to bite the bullet and go for as many as I possibly can. I've been applying for jobs for a few months now, and this is the first one to offer me an interview. I really want the job too. It's not like its just a boring desk job, it's fairly similar to what I do now, only without the gambling. It's basically helping disadvantaged people find work. I won't actually be doing that, but I'll be manning the front desk with a fair bit of autonomy within my little domain. I get to refill the coffee machine and everything! I haven't described it very well but, it suits my ethics and I'll actually get to speak to people and organise things, which is exactly what I've been looking for.
I just hope that I'm actually being given a chance and am not just a statistic so that they get to tick a little box and stop a man from the government coming round to tell them off......
I am Very Scared.
It has been a year since my last job interview, and the last one I had didn't go very well.
This was largely because it was for a job within the gaming industry, and the people who were interviewing me had no intention of giving me the job I'd applied for as it transpired they were actually only promoting internally, but had to offer the job outside the company to fulfill legal requirements. And they were blatantly Office people who asked me questions like-
"When was the last time that you were part of an award-winning team!"
And didn't ask me questions about all the relevant experience that I had. Or the fact I was already in possession of most of the certificates that the other candidates would be gaining whilst in their new position. Needless to say, it left me feeling Very Annoyed that although I was apparently the Most Intelligent Person ever to take their stupid literacy and numeracy tests, (Oh yes, this was the longest, most drawn out interview process I have Ever been through) according to them, I had the Best test results they had Ever seen in the whole history of recruiting people into their corporate evil empire, I was still not good enough. And this was for a job that, on paper, I was so horribly overqualified for it was ridiculous.
They Did offer me a large number of other positions, and I got a bit of revenge by stringing them along for a few months, getting them to up their offers several times before I turned them down. They messed me about, and being able to say thanks but no thanks at the end after they attempted to con me into a position that was quite a bit back down the ladder from where I'd already worked my backside off to get to, was ultimately a hollow victory. But it made me feel a bit better at the time.
That experience has left me a bit wary of being interviewed again although, as I will be unemployed in three weeks time, I am going to have to bite the bullet and go for as many as I possibly can. I've been applying for jobs for a few months now, and this is the first one to offer me an interview. I really want the job too. It's not like its just a boring desk job, it's fairly similar to what I do now, only without the gambling. It's basically helping disadvantaged people find work. I won't actually be doing that, but I'll be manning the front desk with a fair bit of autonomy within my little domain. I get to refill the coffee machine and everything! I haven't described it very well but, it suits my ethics and I'll actually get to speak to people and organise things, which is exactly what I've been looking for.
I just hope that I'm actually being given a chance and am not just a statistic so that they get to tick a little box and stop a man from the government coming round to tell them off......
Wednesday 18 July 2007
The Cat Fantastique!
When I am reincarnated, (if that's what happens, which is a Whole different post in itself) I would like to come back as a cat.
Cats are easily my favourite animals (apart from maybe koala bears but apparently you can't have a koala as a pet in Britain. Or maybe you can but Pets at Home don't stock them). I've always had a pet cat, except when our family cat died when I was thirteen, and we were all too distraught to get another one for a few years. I got another kitten when I was about twenty, and had started working. She is apparently the most destructive cat my mum has Ever had. She breaks stuff if she doesn't get her own way. Like if it's raining and she wants to go outside, which is Obviously my mum's fault. I left home at twenty-four (don't laugh) and had to leave her with my parents as my Evil Ex (more of him another time) didn't want her to come and live with us because he was "allergic" to cats. It transpired he wasn't allergic at all, just a complete twat.
A Tip- If you are in a relationship with somebody who doesn't like animals of any kind, it's pretty much doomed to fail. In my experience, people who don't like animals always turn out to be Evil in some way. It's True.
Anyhoo, I had a couple of cat-free years until last Autumn when my girlfriend said it was OK for us to get one as-
a) our Evil gay flatmates (who didn't like cats) had done a runner and,
b) it was our anniversary and she wanted to do something to make me happy.
So we went through the free-ads and went to the first people who had kittens for sale that actually bothered to answer their phone.
When we got there I decided in about three seconds that I had to rescue at least one kitten from that house. It was filthy. There were a number of animals there including a dog, several cats and a large parrot that kept saying "Bastard". They gave me one of the bedraggled kittens to hold and she just sat there. She smelt Really Bad and was soaking wet. Normally, a kitten in a happy home won't sit still for a nanosecond but she didn't budge an inch. There was also a boy but he disappeared behind the washing machine and they couldn't get him out.
The thing that shocked me was that they wanted £60 for each kitten. We tried to haggle (which is something my girlfriend is normally Really Good at) but they wouldn't budge on the price. If they had been cheaper, I would've taken them both but we couldn't afford that much. To this day, I feel terrible that I didn't rescue that little cat. I do hope he found a happy home with people that actually gave two shits about him. These people made me really cross. They already clearly had a moggy that they had not bothered to get spayed. Unless you are a breeder, there is No Excuse for this. The resulting babies were simply money to them. People like these should be put in the stocks so the rest of civilised society can throw mouldy fruit at them. They should be Ashamed!
So we took the little girl and she is now our baby. She is currently sound asleep on the sofa behind me. We also have a hamster at home. We keep them separate although, weirdly, the hamster seems to take immense pleasure in winding the cat up, if she's around. Guaranteed, if the kitten's in our room, the hamster will do a full gymnastic display until we take her out again. This is probably because the hamster secretly knows that the cat is a complete wimp, whereas the hamster has the morals of a serial killer. She really is brutal, although she likes me, nobody else is allowed to try and put their hands in her cage. Not if they want to keep all their fingers in any case.
Our pets are spoilt, I confess. The cat is getting fatter by the day and has the most advanced array of cat-toys and gadgets you've Ever seen. Our friends have children with less stuff. I don't care though, if you're going to have a pet, it's your responsibility to make sure they have a happy and fulfilled life. Even the hamster eats organic!
So I'd like to be a cat next time around. It's the whole eat, sleep, eat, play, sleep, eat, sleep, play thing that does it for me. And my cat always gets her own way (apart form when she wants to chew the wires behind the TV). And she is loved very much.
Sounds like Heaven if you ask me!
Cats are easily my favourite animals (apart from maybe koala bears but apparently you can't have a koala as a pet in Britain. Or maybe you can but Pets at Home don't stock them). I've always had a pet cat, except when our family cat died when I was thirteen, and we were all too distraught to get another one for a few years. I got another kitten when I was about twenty, and had started working. She is apparently the most destructive cat my mum has Ever had. She breaks stuff if she doesn't get her own way. Like if it's raining and she wants to go outside, which is Obviously my mum's fault. I left home at twenty-four (don't laugh) and had to leave her with my parents as my Evil Ex (more of him another time) didn't want her to come and live with us because he was "allergic" to cats. It transpired he wasn't allergic at all, just a complete twat.
A Tip- If you are in a relationship with somebody who doesn't like animals of any kind, it's pretty much doomed to fail. In my experience, people who don't like animals always turn out to be Evil in some way. It's True.
Anyhoo, I had a couple of cat-free years until last Autumn when my girlfriend said it was OK for us to get one as-
a) our Evil gay flatmates (who didn't like cats) had done a runner and,
b) it was our anniversary and she wanted to do something to make me happy.
So we went through the free-ads and went to the first people who had kittens for sale that actually bothered to answer their phone.
When we got there I decided in about three seconds that I had to rescue at least one kitten from that house. It was filthy. There were a number of animals there including a dog, several cats and a large parrot that kept saying "Bastard". They gave me one of the bedraggled kittens to hold and she just sat there. She smelt Really Bad and was soaking wet. Normally, a kitten in a happy home won't sit still for a nanosecond but she didn't budge an inch. There was also a boy but he disappeared behind the washing machine and they couldn't get him out.
The thing that shocked me was that they wanted £60 for each kitten. We tried to haggle (which is something my girlfriend is normally Really Good at) but they wouldn't budge on the price. If they had been cheaper, I would've taken them both but we couldn't afford that much. To this day, I feel terrible that I didn't rescue that little cat. I do hope he found a happy home with people that actually gave two shits about him. These people made me really cross. They already clearly had a moggy that they had not bothered to get spayed. Unless you are a breeder, there is No Excuse for this. The resulting babies were simply money to them. People like these should be put in the stocks so the rest of civilised society can throw mouldy fruit at them. They should be Ashamed!
So we took the little girl and she is now our baby. She is currently sound asleep on the sofa behind me. We also have a hamster at home. We keep them separate although, weirdly, the hamster seems to take immense pleasure in winding the cat up, if she's around. Guaranteed, if the kitten's in our room, the hamster will do a full gymnastic display until we take her out again. This is probably because the hamster secretly knows that the cat is a complete wimp, whereas the hamster has the morals of a serial killer. She really is brutal, although she likes me, nobody else is allowed to try and put their hands in her cage. Not if they want to keep all their fingers in any case.
Our pets are spoilt, I confess. The cat is getting fatter by the day and has the most advanced array of cat-toys and gadgets you've Ever seen. Our friends have children with less stuff. I don't care though, if you're going to have a pet, it's your responsibility to make sure they have a happy and fulfilled life. Even the hamster eats organic!
So I'd like to be a cat next time around. It's the whole eat, sleep, eat, play, sleep, eat, sleep, play thing that does it for me. And my cat always gets her own way (apart form when she wants to chew the wires behind the TV). And she is loved very much.
Sounds like Heaven if you ask me!
I Can't Sleep!
It is about 3.20am.
I have to get up at 8.30am for work.
For the third night in a row, I will get maybe 4 hours sleep- IF I am lucky.
Today, I am not loving my insomnia.....
I'm so tired.
Boo-Hoo.
I have to get up at 8.30am for work.
For the third night in a row, I will get maybe 4 hours sleep- IF I am lucky.
Today, I am not loving my insomnia.....
I'm so tired.
Boo-Hoo.
Monday 16 July 2007
I Ain't Boverd!
Catherine Tate is currently on the TV, which you may be surprised to learn is where I got the inspiration for my post title today. Or Not.
Yesterday, I had too much to say and too little time. Today I still have much to say but since I sat down at my computer, my brain seems to have gone out for a walk or something. It's not often that I am stuck for words.
I Did hand my notice in though. I was brave and have spent most of today feeling oddly relieved that the end is in sight for my appallingly bad job. Hurrah! I can't wait to get out of there and into the Big Wide World. It's Very Exciting. And also Really Scary.
Most people will tell you that you should never leave a job until you get another one. I've been applying for jobs and nobody wants me yet so I'm just going to have to keep my fingers crossed that something comes up. In actual fact, I've always left my previous jobs before I've got another one. Nothing will motivate you in quite the same way fear does. It'll make you actually bother going to the Job Centre or fill in that thirtieth form. It certainly works for me anyway. For me, having some sort of Real motivation that goes beyond the fact that something is merely annoying or a nuisance, is paramount to my getting off my arse. Because I kinda like sitting on it unfortunately.
I have no idea what I want to do though, which may cause a few problems down the line. All I do know is that I don't want to work weird hours any more. My sleep pattern is more erratic than ever at the moment, and I don't know how much more of it I can cope with. So 9 to 5 is about the only thing I care about. And No More Weekends! I've done my fair share for this lifetime I think.....
Yesterday, I had too much to say and too little time. Today I still have much to say but since I sat down at my computer, my brain seems to have gone out for a walk or something. It's not often that I am stuck for words.
I Did hand my notice in though. I was brave and have spent most of today feeling oddly relieved that the end is in sight for my appallingly bad job. Hurrah! I can't wait to get out of there and into the Big Wide World. It's Very Exciting. And also Really Scary.
Most people will tell you that you should never leave a job until you get another one. I've been applying for jobs and nobody wants me yet so I'm just going to have to keep my fingers crossed that something comes up. In actual fact, I've always left my previous jobs before I've got another one. Nothing will motivate you in quite the same way fear does. It'll make you actually bother going to the Job Centre or fill in that thirtieth form. It certainly works for me anyway. For me, having some sort of Real motivation that goes beyond the fact that something is merely annoying or a nuisance, is paramount to my getting off my arse. Because I kinda like sitting on it unfortunately.
I have no idea what I want to do though, which may cause a few problems down the line. All I do know is that I don't want to work weird hours any more. My sleep pattern is more erratic than ever at the moment, and I don't know how much more of it I can cope with. So 9 to 5 is about the only thing I care about. And No More Weekends! I've done my fair share for this lifetime I think.....
Sunday 15 July 2007
I Don't Believe In Being Brave....
I've done it.
Or should I say, I'm doing it tomorrow.
I am handing in my notice, and waving good-bye to the bingo hall Forever!!
As I don't yet have a job to go to, I am A Bit Scared, but am sure it will be OK.....
I figured it was time to Just Do It, and to be honest, I always walk the tight-rope better without a safety net so am feeling weirdly positive about risking becoming an unemployment statistic. I'm going to write a proper post tomorrow, when I actually have some time to but I just Had to write this down now as it is Very Important. To me, anyway...
Or should I say, I'm doing it tomorrow.
I am handing in my notice, and waving good-bye to the bingo hall Forever!!
As I don't yet have a job to go to, I am A Bit Scared, but am sure it will be OK.....
I figured it was time to Just Do It, and to be honest, I always walk the tight-rope better without a safety net so am feeling weirdly positive about risking becoming an unemployment statistic. I'm going to write a proper post tomorrow, when I actually have some time to but I just Had to write this down now as it is Very Important. To me, anyway...
Thursday 12 July 2007
I'm Having Some Technical Difficulty...
There is something wrong with my blog.
I don't know quite what to do with it though, it's Very Irritating.
Every time I log on, it's going back several posts and not showing my new ones until I click on 'July'. At first I thought they were just disappearing but they're not. I've said before that I find computers confusing. This is an example of my problem. Somethings not right, I don't know exactly what's wrong, and have no idea how to resolve this issue. It's probably because I got a bit overconfident with it and did a lot of fiddling around. It's probably broken somehow, and that would more than likely be my fault. But it might not be, it could just be my computer being possessed or some sort of programming problem. I have no idea.
I don't even know who I could ask. Not that I would, I can't face the patronising ridicule that you get when you ask somebody who understands these things what's gone wrong. So it'll have to stay broken I guess.....
Stupid Computer.
I don't know quite what to do with it though, it's Very Irritating.
Every time I log on, it's going back several posts and not showing my new ones until I click on 'July'. At first I thought they were just disappearing but they're not. I've said before that I find computers confusing. This is an example of my problem. Somethings not right, I don't know exactly what's wrong, and have no idea how to resolve this issue. It's probably because I got a bit overconfident with it and did a lot of fiddling around. It's probably broken somehow, and that would more than likely be my fault. But it might not be, it could just be my computer being possessed or some sort of programming problem. I have no idea.
I don't even know who I could ask. Not that I would, I can't face the patronising ridicule that you get when you ask somebody who understands these things what's gone wrong. So it'll have to stay broken I guess.....
Stupid Computer.
Being Hungover Is Rubbish...
Yesterday I had the worst hangover I've had since I was a teenager.
To make it even more unbearable, I had to go to work. I told my manager that I was still drunk, sorry about that. Unlike every other manager in the country, he didn't send me home. If it hadn't been for my girlfriend covering for me all afternoon, nothing would've got done.
What happened was that a very good friend of mine is getting married on Friday (The Thirteenth!). It was his Wife to Be's hen night and we thought we'd go along for a few hours, to say hi really as we don't see enough of them. We ended up in town. I Really Don't Like town. However, because of the smoking ban, everywhere was totally dead so it wasn't all that bad. Unfortunately, I accidentally drank about 3 litres of cocktails. I was absolutely fine one moment, and very much not so the next. I don't remember getting home.
Apparently we went back to my friend's house where I was very loud and annoying and saying the same thing over and over again. Luckily for me, my friends are very good friends and love me very much so no major damage done. Plus I was mainly saying how much I love them and how beautiful their son is, and even though I was annoying, it's not the sort of thing that people are cross with you about the next day after a heavy night.
My girlfriend was sober and can remember everything which is a pain. Luckily for me, she has the patience of a saint and wasn't too cross with me the next day. She was not happy about the fact that Someone had a wee on the bathroom floor during the night. I think it was the cat.....
If it Was me, it meant I got up stark naked and was wandering round the house in the morning, which is when my girlfriend's brother gets home from work (he lives with us). So I really hope it wasn't me. I certainly didn't feel like I had moved from the same position when I woke up so am having very crossed fingers that it was the cat........
I wish I had a bit more self-control when it comes to my alcohol consumption. I can give up, I quit alcohol altogether for over two years once but I Really Like drinking. I wish that I would always know when I've had enough and could just leave that last cocktail that always pushes me over the edge......
I don't know that I'll ever learn but that hangover was a pretty harsh lesson yesterday in how you shouldn't drink on a work night when you have a eleven hour shift to get through the next day!
To make it even more unbearable, I had to go to work. I told my manager that I was still drunk, sorry about that. Unlike every other manager in the country, he didn't send me home. If it hadn't been for my girlfriend covering for me all afternoon, nothing would've got done.
What happened was that a very good friend of mine is getting married on Friday (The Thirteenth!). It was his Wife to Be's hen night and we thought we'd go along for a few hours, to say hi really as we don't see enough of them. We ended up in town. I Really Don't Like town. However, because of the smoking ban, everywhere was totally dead so it wasn't all that bad. Unfortunately, I accidentally drank about 3 litres of cocktails. I was absolutely fine one moment, and very much not so the next. I don't remember getting home.
Apparently we went back to my friend's house where I was very loud and annoying and saying the same thing over and over again. Luckily for me, my friends are very good friends and love me very much so no major damage done. Plus I was mainly saying how much I love them and how beautiful their son is, and even though I was annoying, it's not the sort of thing that people are cross with you about the next day after a heavy night.
My girlfriend was sober and can remember everything which is a pain. Luckily for me, she has the patience of a saint and wasn't too cross with me the next day. She was not happy about the fact that Someone had a wee on the bathroom floor during the night. I think it was the cat.....
If it Was me, it meant I got up stark naked and was wandering round the house in the morning, which is when my girlfriend's brother gets home from work (he lives with us). So I really hope it wasn't me. I certainly didn't feel like I had moved from the same position when I woke up so am having very crossed fingers that it was the cat........
I wish I had a bit more self-control when it comes to my alcohol consumption. I can give up, I quit alcohol altogether for over two years once but I Really Like drinking. I wish that I would always know when I've had enough and could just leave that last cocktail that always pushes me over the edge......
I don't know that I'll ever learn but that hangover was a pretty harsh lesson yesterday in how you shouldn't drink on a work night when you have a eleven hour shift to get through the next day!
Monday 9 July 2007
Things That Make Me Smile...!!
I am not going to give up the moaning.
However, I've been organising my blog and reading my posts back and I thought that perhaps it wouldn't hurt to bring a little sunshine into my rather gloomy and self-obsessed world.
The following is a list of things that make me smile-
However, I've been organising my blog and reading my posts back and I thought that perhaps it wouldn't hurt to bring a little sunshine into my rather gloomy and self-obsessed world.
The following is a list of things that make me smile-
- My beautiful, funny, smart girlfriend
- My pets
- South Park
- Long Lie-Ins
- Going to run a bath and discovering that the person before me has cleaned it out themselves and not left a layer of hair and dirt for me to clean.
- Jammie Dodgers
- Being inside when it's raining outside
- Vodka
- Getting to the end of the month, and realising that I have money left
- Salt and Vinegar Kettle Chips
- Popcorn
- Sunbathing
- Laughing so hard it makes me cry
- Answering the door to discover it IS a friend and NOT a Jehovah's Witness or a sweaty salesman
- Top Gear
This is not an exhaustive list, but it pretty much sums up the things I can think of right now. All these things make me happy and to be honest, although I do use my blog to rant and rave, I have a lot of laughter in my life.
I enjoy life very much, but I believe in Living. I like experiences that make me feel things, be it good or bad. I don't tend to do things in half-measures, which is perhaps why when things go wrong, it feels like the Universe is imploding around me. I just wanted to inject a little bit of positivity into my musings.
Now, back to being cross........
The Story Of The Unhappy Slug...
So I went back to work today.
Monday is only a half-shift for me, so I get the evening to mooch around the flat and watch lots of Jerry Springer and Judge Judy. Many people are a bit snobby about daytime television. They seem to think that it's only for people who struggle to spell their own name, or who marry their own cousins. For me, seeing how some people manage to get through life, despite not being able to string a sentence together is incredibly fascinating. I love watching their orchestrated fights on Jerry, or how some people will sue their mothers because "she borrowed a tenner once and never paid it back". It makes me feel safe because although sometimes it feels like my life is pretty awful, it will never be as bad as it is for these weirdos. And the saddest thing is, the majority of them aren't even smart enough to realise that they're missing out on all sorts of things. Or maybe they don't care, I don't know as I'm not exactly Sigmund Freud when it come to psychoanalysing other people.
This brings me to the Slug at work.
She is a person, we haven't got some sort of infestation (not that I'm aware of, anyway).
I call her the Slug because she spends all day chewing the part of her fingers that used to be her fingernails and everything she touches ends up being covered in dribble (a bit like as if a slug had crawled across it). It's disgusting.
I'm not a Total clean freak but I like clean hands on other people. And your mouth has more bacteria in than your bum! Not that I'd be particularly over the moon if somebody tried to pay for their bingo books with money covered in feces, but dribble is just as gross- unless the person handing something to you is under 4 years of age.
She also has a voice which I can only liken to a veritable orchestra of cats, all sharpening their claws on a ginormous blackboard simultaneously. It's awful. And she puts an 's' on the end of almost every verb she says, IE-
"I wants and needs a new kitchen"
AAAAARRRRGGGHHH!!!
I can't stomach the woman at the best of times but today, after being away from work for a whole week, I came extremely close to vaulting the counter and stapling her fat, stupid head to the carpet.
It was a shame really, as apart from the Slug, I had a pretty good afternoon. The customers were fairly annoying, but not so much as usual, and I was feeling fairly calm about all the things that normally wind me up and make me feel like I will become a victim of spontaneous human combustion at any given moment.
I was going to turn over a new leaf and try and cut the moaning down on my posts but I've changed my mind, I enjoy it far too much!
Monday is only a half-shift for me, so I get the evening to mooch around the flat and watch lots of Jerry Springer and Judge Judy. Many people are a bit snobby about daytime television. They seem to think that it's only for people who struggle to spell their own name, or who marry their own cousins. For me, seeing how some people manage to get through life, despite not being able to string a sentence together is incredibly fascinating. I love watching their orchestrated fights on Jerry, or how some people will sue their mothers because "she borrowed a tenner once and never paid it back". It makes me feel safe because although sometimes it feels like my life is pretty awful, it will never be as bad as it is for these weirdos. And the saddest thing is, the majority of them aren't even smart enough to realise that they're missing out on all sorts of things. Or maybe they don't care, I don't know as I'm not exactly Sigmund Freud when it come to psychoanalysing other people.
This brings me to the Slug at work.
She is a person, we haven't got some sort of infestation (not that I'm aware of, anyway).
I call her the Slug because she spends all day chewing the part of her fingers that used to be her fingernails and everything she touches ends up being covered in dribble (a bit like as if a slug had crawled across it). It's disgusting.
I'm not a Total clean freak but I like clean hands on other people. And your mouth has more bacteria in than your bum! Not that I'd be particularly over the moon if somebody tried to pay for their bingo books with money covered in feces, but dribble is just as gross- unless the person handing something to you is under 4 years of age.
She also has a voice which I can only liken to a veritable orchestra of cats, all sharpening their claws on a ginormous blackboard simultaneously. It's awful. And she puts an 's' on the end of almost every verb she says, IE-
"I wants and needs a new kitchen"
AAAAARRRRGGGHHH!!!
I can't stomach the woman at the best of times but today, after being away from work for a whole week, I came extremely close to vaulting the counter and stapling her fat, stupid head to the carpet.
It was a shame really, as apart from the Slug, I had a pretty good afternoon. The customers were fairly annoying, but not so much as usual, and I was feeling fairly calm about all the things that normally wind me up and make me feel like I will become a victim of spontaneous human combustion at any given moment.
I was going to turn over a new leaf and try and cut the moaning down on my posts but I've changed my mind, I enjoy it far too much!
Sunday 8 July 2007
Back To Work....(Boo Hiss Boo)
I am faced with the gloomy prospect of returning to work tomorrow.
It's not quite the Apocalypse, with the Four Horsemen and their Legions of Doom and Destruction descending upon the world, intent on destroying all in their path and leaving chaos, death and disease in their wake, but I'm feeling a bit glum. The prospect of returning to my normal life after a week of ignoring my mobile and not having to get up in the morning before I feel like it is not one that I'm relishing right about now.
In all honesty, I think everybody feels this sort of low after a holiday. It's a bit like the come-down after taking drugs but without the horrible 'your-body-is-going-to-disintegrate-any-moment-now' kind of feeling that you get with a narcotic withdrawal. What is the same is that rather grey cloud looming over my head, like I'm never going to be quite that happy ever again (or at least not for a Very Long Time Indeed). It certainly doesn't make me want to dance about, that's for sure. Plus work is No Smoking now, and I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to cope with that after 6 years of being able to have a cigarette when I'm working. This is partly because I never really used to get breaks, and it was my boss's way of stopping me either having a nervous breakdown, or complaining I think! I will definitely be taking my breaks now, although this is going to be difficult and may cause problems down the line....
Never Mind. I've been reading back through my previous blogs and I really do moan A Lot. Am going to try and cut it down a bit. I'm refusing to give up the smokes so I suppose I ought to make a go of giving up something else I like doing instead. Am not sure that the previous sentence was, strictly speaking, in Good English but I'm going to leave it the way it is. Although I make a point of never editing my comments, even when I read back something that I am no longer cross about and realise that perhaps I didn't need to rant about it with quite so much venom, I have to confess to correcting any spelling and grammar mistakes that I notice. I don't mean to, but bad grammar bothers me. If I were reading a novel and the writer couldn't be bothered to construct a half-decent sentence, I would put it down. I can't help it. It's like a sort of Tourettes.
Well, maybe not as extreme as Tourettes (I exaggerate too much as well) but it's a sort of involuntary reaction that I have.
"Quick! Correct that spelling mistake! And PUT THAT COMMA IN THE RIGHT PLACE!!!"
Like the World will grind to a shuddering halt and everyone will take a moment to point and laugh at my hideous grammar......
I'm a bit weird.
It's not quite the Apocalypse, with the Four Horsemen and their Legions of Doom and Destruction descending upon the world, intent on destroying all in their path and leaving chaos, death and disease in their wake, but I'm feeling a bit glum. The prospect of returning to my normal life after a week of ignoring my mobile and not having to get up in the morning before I feel like it is not one that I'm relishing right about now.
In all honesty, I think everybody feels this sort of low after a holiday. It's a bit like the come-down after taking drugs but without the horrible 'your-body-is-going-to-disintegrate-any-moment-now' kind of feeling that you get with a narcotic withdrawal. What is the same is that rather grey cloud looming over my head, like I'm never going to be quite that happy ever again (or at least not for a Very Long Time Indeed). It certainly doesn't make me want to dance about, that's for sure. Plus work is No Smoking now, and I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to cope with that after 6 years of being able to have a cigarette when I'm working. This is partly because I never really used to get breaks, and it was my boss's way of stopping me either having a nervous breakdown, or complaining I think! I will definitely be taking my breaks now, although this is going to be difficult and may cause problems down the line....
Never Mind. I've been reading back through my previous blogs and I really do moan A Lot. Am going to try and cut it down a bit. I'm refusing to give up the smokes so I suppose I ought to make a go of giving up something else I like doing instead. Am not sure that the previous sentence was, strictly speaking, in Good English but I'm going to leave it the way it is. Although I make a point of never editing my comments, even when I read back something that I am no longer cross about and realise that perhaps I didn't need to rant about it with quite so much venom, I have to confess to correcting any spelling and grammar mistakes that I notice. I don't mean to, but bad grammar bothers me. If I were reading a novel and the writer couldn't be bothered to construct a half-decent sentence, I would put it down. I can't help it. It's like a sort of Tourettes.
Well, maybe not as extreme as Tourettes (I exaggerate too much as well) but it's a sort of involuntary reaction that I have.
"Quick! Correct that spelling mistake! And PUT THAT COMMA IN THE RIGHT PLACE!!!"
Like the World will grind to a shuddering halt and everyone will take a moment to point and laugh at my hideous grammar......
I'm a bit weird.
Why I Love My Insomnia...
I have always had problems sleeping.
I can't ever remember ever finding it easy to get to sleep, even when I'm really tired. I think it's because I have an overactive brain, I really struggle to switch it off, unless I'm Really Drunk, in which case I'm fully capable of passing out anywhere.
However, despite this, It's never caused me any major problems, apart from maybe during several of my GCSE exams when I couldn't sleep the night before and rushed through my papers so I could have a kip on the desk!
My girlfriend is a Sleeping Machine. Due to the whole travelling thing last night, she went to sleep this morning at about 5am. She got up this afternoon at around 5pm, I made her some dinner and then she went back to sleep. I woke her around 9pm, which I then regretted as she was in a Very Bad Mood Indeed. She had a bath, unpacked her suitcase and then settled down on the sofa and went back to sleep Again. I am still awake and now it's coming up to 3am. I don't know if or when I'll get to sleep again. Could be not until tomorrow night, which is fine because then I will actually sleep when I go to bed and I'll be fine for Monday morning when we go back to work.
The reason I love my insomnia is that being unable to sleep has opened up a world to me that I wouldn't know existed had I gone to bed at a reasonable time. As a teenager, it enebled me to discover Japanese Anime, which was only on Channel 4 after midnight on a Friday. Over the years, I've seen countless films that I would've missed otherwise like Susperia, The Haunting (the original black and white), Theatre of Blood, The Ghoul etc etc.
I love old horror films, and many of the ones that they show on TV in the early hours aren't the sort that you would find proudly displayed at your local Blockbusters and I probably wouldn't have got around to watching them under any other circumstances.
I completed Final Fantasy 7 after devoting several weeks to playing the game when I should've been sleeping, I've watched countless documentaries on everything from the Lions in Africa to Notorious Murderers to how the ancient Egyptians built the Pyramids.
I've managed 4 posts today, which is more than I managed in the whole of June! I've read hundreds (literally) of books by many different authors (over the years, not just tonight!).
All these things have been experienced as a direct result of the fact that I don't sleep very much, and I'm glad because they're all part of who I am. It also comes in handy to have lots of useless information bouncing around your head if you want to do a crossword or join a pub-quiz team!
I've tried loads of different tablets and remedies. They either don't work, or work too well and give me a stonking great hangover in the morning. If I'm going to be hungover, I'd rather drink the vodka, thanks. At least then the hangover will feel meaningful......
I gave up on trying to cure it a long time ago, and I really do feel better for accepting that sleep deprivation is a part of my life, and probably always will be.
I can't ever remember ever finding it easy to get to sleep, even when I'm really tired. I think it's because I have an overactive brain, I really struggle to switch it off, unless I'm Really Drunk, in which case I'm fully capable of passing out anywhere.
However, despite this, It's never caused me any major problems, apart from maybe during several of my GCSE exams when I couldn't sleep the night before and rushed through my papers so I could have a kip on the desk!
My girlfriend is a Sleeping Machine. Due to the whole travelling thing last night, she went to sleep this morning at about 5am. She got up this afternoon at around 5pm, I made her some dinner and then she went back to sleep. I woke her around 9pm, which I then regretted as she was in a Very Bad Mood Indeed. She had a bath, unpacked her suitcase and then settled down on the sofa and went back to sleep Again. I am still awake and now it's coming up to 3am. I don't know if or when I'll get to sleep again. Could be not until tomorrow night, which is fine because then I will actually sleep when I go to bed and I'll be fine for Monday morning when we go back to work.
The reason I love my insomnia is that being unable to sleep has opened up a world to me that I wouldn't know existed had I gone to bed at a reasonable time. As a teenager, it enebled me to discover Japanese Anime, which was only on Channel 4 after midnight on a Friday. Over the years, I've seen countless films that I would've missed otherwise like Susperia, The Haunting (the original black and white), Theatre of Blood, The Ghoul etc etc.
I love old horror films, and many of the ones that they show on TV in the early hours aren't the sort that you would find proudly displayed at your local Blockbusters and I probably wouldn't have got around to watching them under any other circumstances.
I completed Final Fantasy 7 after devoting several weeks to playing the game when I should've been sleeping, I've watched countless documentaries on everything from the Lions in Africa to Notorious Murderers to how the ancient Egyptians built the Pyramids.
I've managed 4 posts today, which is more than I managed in the whole of June! I've read hundreds (literally) of books by many different authors (over the years, not just tonight!).
All these things have been experienced as a direct result of the fact that I don't sleep very much, and I'm glad because they're all part of who I am. It also comes in handy to have lots of useless information bouncing around your head if you want to do a crossword or join a pub-quiz team!
I've tried loads of different tablets and remedies. They either don't work, or work too well and give me a stonking great hangover in the morning. If I'm going to be hungover, I'd rather drink the vodka, thanks. At least then the hangover will feel meaningful......
I gave up on trying to cure it a long time ago, and I really do feel better for accepting that sleep deprivation is a part of my life, and probably always will be.
Saturday 7 July 2007
Viva Espana!!! (pt 2)
This image was my favourite thing at the cathedral in Palma.
The cathedral in itself was a beautiful piece of architecture, it was massive, felt holy and I enjoyed wandering around it, both inside and outside. This image is taken from a large piece of religious artwork, right near the exit. I love morbid Catholic imagery, I have no idea who the headless man is meant to be or why he was included on a piece of artwork that was made to go in a religious building. It's certainly not the sort of thing that I would want small children to see but nevertheless, in a world that condemns violence on TV and in computer games, if you put a violent image in a church, for some reason, it's OK. Brilliant!
I can see why loads of ex-pats emigrate to Spain. For a start, there's no security cameras covering your every single solitary last move, just in case you do something 'wrong' so they can fine you. People take their time doing things, I never felt like I had to rush for anything, not even when we got our flight home. And the airport staff at Palma could certainly show the poor excuse for 'Customer Services' that we got at Gatwick a thing or two.
It was the first time in recent years that I felt that, just for a few days, I could kick my shoes off, lie back and relax. I left all my worries at home and didn't get stressed or argue with my girlfriend once the whole time that we were away.
It was also sunny. We watched Sky news while we were there and I have to confess to stifling a chuckle when rain stopped play at Wimbledon practically every single day of our sun-drenched holiday. I didn't miss the rain and the damp and the general misery that seems to engulf our green little island.
The people of Britain need to start standing up for themselves. We put up with our controlling Government, their ridiculous laws, their pointless wars with countries we will never go to and, for the most part, have never heard of. We are letting them use their current 'War on Terror' as an excuse to strip each and every one of us of our fundamental human rights. Not even capitalist America attempts to treat their people so poorly. We are encouraged to be xenophobic, by a media that does the politicians publicity so very well and as a nation, we accept it all. Sometimes, you have to step back and try to take an objective view on things. I think that's what my little break away has done for me. If this country doesn't change, I'll be saving every last penny I can and disappearing off to the sunshine as soon as I've got enough of them to start a new life for myself.
Viva Espana!!! (pt 1)
I have just come back from a much needed holiday in Mallorca.
Some extra cash came our way unexpectedly so we booked a few days away on Expedia (a site which, I have to say, I would recommend to anybody who wishes to avoid the nightmare that is The Package Holiday) and then buggered off to much better weather and much larger drinks.
Getting there was a bit of a nightmare.
I didn't realise the airports pretty much close down in the wee small hours of the morning. Because of the latest terrorist threats, we were advised to get there early, only to discover the advertised tailbacks on the motorway were non-existent, and until the check-in desks opened at 3.30am, not one solitary member of staff could be found. Apart from two rather sorry-looking specimens whose expertise stretched to serving coffee. And two other guys who were playing with one of those giant floor-cleaning machines.
When we did get checked in, everything else seemed to fall neatly into place and we arrived at our destination completely knackered, but otherwise with no delays or problems, other than the fact I couldn't smoke for what felt like HOURS, which was completely rubbish.
The hotel was beautiful and thankfully, at the start of the week, devoid of English tourists. Not that I really mind my fellow countrymen but the English abroad are like a totally different species.
For some reason, none of them feel the need to speak the native language of wherever they happen to be. The ones we saw stretched to 'Hola' but anything beyond that was apparently too much hard work. If the waiter they happen to be speaking to doesn't understand them, they just keep increasing volume until they get what they want. Like saying the same thing in English louder and louder is going to somehow going to make it easier to understand. Also, they get annoyed by foreign people who don't speak English. It was painfully embarrassing for me but on the other hand, because I can speak a bit of Spanish, we got better service, bigger drinks and were treated incredibly well by the bar staff who were amazed by the fact we were willing to try and communicate in their language and weren't intent on drinking ourselves to death or trying to jump in the pool naked like most of the English that they meet apparently do.
The picture at the top is the view from the bar. I did say at some point I would attempt to add some photos to my blog so this is my very first one. Go Me! Am starting to get there with this computer malarkey.
So this is the first part of the story of my holiday. A bit more happened but I'll write about that later or this is going to end up being the longest post in the history of the Universe......
I Managed To Get It To Work In The End.....!
Stupid computer won't let me put the cursor in the title box for this post. This was going to be a happy post because I was in a good mood but now I am irritated....
I have no idea how to get it to work. Maybe I'll have to wait until I press 'publish' and it'll tell me in that slightly patronising way that computers do that I have forgotten to title my latest piece of drivel and it'll let me do it then.
Or maybe it won't let me publish at all without inserting a title in which case, what I'm writing at this precise moment is a complete waste of time an energy so I'm going to keep it short just in case.
And now, when I have loads to write about, I have ended up writing about absolutely nothing, which is really annoying because if there's something I really can't stand it's when you start reading a blog and the person who writes it spends a long time telling you how they've got nothing to say and are only writing because they feel they have to for some bizarre reason. Like it's 'for the fans' or something. I don't have any fans. Sometimes people click on my blog but they tend to click straight off again when they realise my blog isn't very exciting and I don't have any amusing pictures of me with my head up a chicken's arse or 'having fun' with all my friends or being on holiday or five hundred images of me changing my child's first nappy. Nice.
Ok. If I can title this when I press 'publish' then I'm going to then write a proper piece with all my exciting news in. If not I am going to have a tantrum which may result in my not having a computer at all when it's finished..... Here goes......
I have no idea how to get it to work. Maybe I'll have to wait until I press 'publish' and it'll tell me in that slightly patronising way that computers do that I have forgotten to title my latest piece of drivel and it'll let me do it then.
Or maybe it won't let me publish at all without inserting a title in which case, what I'm writing at this precise moment is a complete waste of time an energy so I'm going to keep it short just in case.
And now, when I have loads to write about, I have ended up writing about absolutely nothing, which is really annoying because if there's something I really can't stand it's when you start reading a blog and the person who writes it spends a long time telling you how they've got nothing to say and are only writing because they feel they have to for some bizarre reason. Like it's 'for the fans' or something. I don't have any fans. Sometimes people click on my blog but they tend to click straight off again when they realise my blog isn't very exciting and I don't have any amusing pictures of me with my head up a chicken's arse or 'having fun' with all my friends or being on holiday or five hundred images of me changing my child's first nappy. Nice.
Ok. If I can title this when I press 'publish' then I'm going to then write a proper piece with all my exciting news in. If not I am going to have a tantrum which may result in my not having a computer at all when it's finished..... Here goes......
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