The Ongoing Saga of Creepy Guitar Strap Man

I posted this on Facebook a while ago but as it follows on from my last post, I thought I would share it on here too.

I thought I would share this with everyone I know because it's (fairly) amusing and also highlights that when you're a performer EVEN if you aren't "successful" as such, you can still attract total freak stalkers.

I've had a YouTube page for a couple of years or so and thus far it's been a fairly useful tool for promoting myself and getting more people to hear me singing.  I've met some cool people on there, it's opened the door on some interesting projects and I'm really grateful for all the support and advice I've got as a direct result.

Last January, I started getting messages from a fellow YouTuber (I call him Creepy Guitar Strap Man)- all of which I initially ignored-

CGSM: "u wanna wear your strap more while sittin doin songs to u can do better ty"

Me: ...

CGSM: "i think u should try wearin your strap while sittin u can do real good bye"

Me: ...

CGSM: "u wanna sit with the strap on more then stand u can do good that way ty you"

Me: ...

He left me alone for a few months, and I thought that was the end of being harassed.....however, a little while later, he started messaging me again-

CGSM: "u wanna wear your strap while sittin doin songs u can do good that way ty"

Me: (at this point I thought it might be amusing to wind him up a bit and see if I could get him to admit why he was asking me) "So if I wear my strap will I sound better?"

CGSM: "ya u will play better with your guitar strap on sittin doin your songs trust me it will work i think it will ty"

Me: "So does it help with the singing or just the guitar playing?"

CGSM: "just the guitar playin u can hold guitar better with the strap on sittin doin your songs trust me it works ty"

For anyone that doesn't play guitar and doesn't know, what he's saying is utter rubbish and not even remotely true, so I knew for sure it was some sort of odd fetish thing.  At this point I uploaded a new video- without wearing a guitar strap.

CGSM: "i told ya to wear your strap while sittin doin songs on guitar does anyone listen to me must not be :(( bye"

Then I uploaded another video, standing up playing guitar (with strap)

CGSM: "u wanna listen to me and wear your strap while sittin to doin songs please i would be happy bye"

I now upload another song, sans strap

CGSM: "how many times do i ask ya to wear your strap while sittin on guitar i told ya that bye"

Me: "Ok the constant mails are getting a little weird now.....FYI I've talked to many of my guitarist friends about this and wearing a strap makes NO difference to guitar playing at all....If you're interested in the music I play then by all means keep watching, if not I suggest you go and bother someone else.  Don't mean to be harsh but you're getting kinda annoying........"

Funnily enough, he never responded to my last email.....the annoying thing is, the account he mailed from isn't subscribed or friended to my account which means that (as he tends to mail straight after uploads) that it's another of my subscribers using an alt account- which is more than likely because he's been barred from YouTube for sending creepy emails to women asking them to wear their guitar strap!!!  I don't want to remove and block innocent people who've subbed because they really like what I do so am a bit stuck :/

On the plus side, having a creepy stalker IS kinda rock n roll.....even if it is one with the weirdest fetish I've come across so far (and I've typed "wool fetish" into Google Images so I know what I'm talking about)!!

Stomp Stomp Squish Squish

Yesterday I was thinking (never a good thing when you're me but I like to live dangerously).

I was having a particularly Stressful day at work. This happens to me a lot and is usually caused my other people being annoying.

Anyway, at around lunchtime, I found my thoughts drifting away from the seemingly endless spreadsheets and processing of paperwork and imagined what it would be like to be a dinosaur. I was thinking something pretty huge and destructive like a T-Rex. When I was little, I used to watch the Incredible Hulk (I wasn't supposed to watch it really as because of my scarily over-active imagination, and Hulk was the subject of many a childhood nightmare for me) and I remember how he would get all angry and then his eyes would go funny and then he'd TRANSFORM into this giant green man....

I would like to do that, but instead of being a large green man, I'd like to go the whole hog and become a T-Rex.

The first thing I would stamp on would be my laptop at work. This is because it is useless and makes me swear at least 400 time every day as it really doesn't like to do any of the things it was designed to, like opening files or allowing me to read my emails and every single interesting website in the entire universe is blocked on it so even if I had time to skive, I can't.

Then I would stamp the horrible Portakabin I work in into teeny tiny pieces about the size of an amoeba. I would stamp and stamp and stamp for hours until even dust particles would look huge next to the remains. I hate the Portakabin because it is-

a. Dirty
b. Too Cold
c. Too Hot
d. Ugly
e. Dirty
f. Smelly
g. Stuffy
h. Damp
i. Dirty
j. Unfit to be inhabited by Raccoons, let alone real Human Beings
k. Dirty

It is probably the most horrible building I have ever worked in and destroying it completely so nobody would ever again be forced to suffer inside it's walls would be very satisfying.

I would then stamp on all the stupid people. These would easily be identified as they would be the ones pointing going-

"Shit!! Look at the Dinosaur!!"

Sensible people would clearly be running away very fast from a T-Rex stamping on a Portakabin so anyone standing around pointing would be squished very quickly.

Then I would go and stamp on Barclays Bank, Argos (TOO many pointless hours standing in queues in that shop for my liking), Tescos (LOTS of those to stamp on), Starbucks, ANY store found guilty of selling velour, ALL Motorway service stations and finally BT Head Office.... I am sure there would be other places to destroy along the way but I think that would be enough to start with.

The funny thing was, my little fantasy actually cheered me up and made me less stressed for the remainder of the day. Now, whenever anyone annoys me (which is sadly still a frequent occurrence) I will just imagine squishing them with my large scaly foot whilst they cry "No", "Please" and "Don't Squash Me" (not necessarily in that order)...

Seriously, try it, it works!!

Blllleeeeuuuuuuurrrrrrggggghhhhhhh......

I am getting too old for heavy weekends....

I have just got back home after spending a weekend in Manchester with my little brother and have finally sobered up and been hit with the Hangover From Hell. I am very relieved that I have booked tomorrow off work as well as today because there is no way I would be able to face a day at my desk feeling like this.

I just want to crawl under my duvet and die quietly.

I can't work out whether I am suffering increasingly awful hangovers simply because I am getting too old, or whether it's actually that my tolerance for alcohol has now reached a point where for me to get properly drunk, I have to drink enough to put a small elephant in a coma, thus resulting in days of feeling sorry for myself, promising anyone with a pair of ears that I will "Never Drink That Much Again"......all my good intentions only ever last for the duration of said hangover, once it is gone it all starts over again until another Hangover of Death hits and I am forced to stop drinking until my kidneys stop screaming at me.

My problem is that I LOVE drinking and socialising and dancing and staying out until the sun rises.....it is very hard to stop doing something that provides me with so much happiness. Normally, these days, although I do get drunk, the nights of cuddling Armitage Shanks are (thankfully) now long gone and I do generally remember most of what happens when I go out.

Maybe I should get a new hobby, but the last time I tried to do anything healthy, I broke my foot so exercise is clearly out the window on that one.

Any ideas? I'll just pour myself another vodka while you come up with something.....

Turning Thirty.....

Last weekend I celebrated my thirtieth birthday.....or, should I say slightly more accurately, commiserated the passing of my twenties.

In the run-up to Doomsday, I have to admit to feeling decidedly crappy that I was leaving my youth officially behind me.

I know that thirty is hardly ancient, indeed, we are told every year that forty is the new thirty, fifty is the new forty etc etc...People are living longer and I can be fairly confident (tragic accident or fatal disease aside) that statistically at least, I'm not even half-way through my life.

It does, however, seem to me that there is something very sad about not being "young" anymore. I have already been fretting, on the few occasions that I do venture into pubs and clubs, that I could turn into one of the women I used to laugh at a decade ago. Strutting their stuff on the dance floor, with too much make-up and flirting shamelessly with men young enough to be their own sons. Theoretically, if I had had a more sexually adventurous time in my teenage years, I could have a 16 year-old child now. I am glad I don't, but it would be physically possible for someone my age to have a child in their late teens.

I still feel young. I fight the urge every weekend to don my Lycra club wear and hit the dance floor. I am not adverse to getting horribly, embarrassingly drunk or toppling over in my too-high high-heels. I don't have children, the idea of having small humans to take care of still terrifies me, although I have many friends who do. I have noticed, this year there have been more weddings, increasingly more of my friends are making commitments to their partners and taking that big step down the aisle.......

There is something awfully inevitable about getting older but I do really miss my early twenties. Thinking I would have plenty of time to do all the things I really wanted to do and confidently putting them off until tomorrow, being easily distracted by anything shiny or interesting that happened to float by. Now I am thirty, I still haven't really accomplished much, although I am trying really hard to accomplish something. Or, at least, parts of things I never got around to already.

There is just so much on the list I really don't know where to start.

I just still feel, several years after I started writing this Blog, because I needed somewhere to vent all the frustrations that I felt for not ever getting around to doing the things I wanted (needed?) to get done, that I haven't really moved much further forward.

I have a better job now. I am married. My Dad died. Many things have happened but I still feel like I spend nearly every day beating my head against a wall, trying desperately to make sense of how I got here, always wanting more, to feel like there was some sort of point or answer.

The older I get, the more confused I become. Even less makes sense to me now.

But the tick-tock of that clock is getting louder and louder. I can hear it all the time, and it's started to tick a little faster than it used to....

When the Axe Falls........

I am finding the current hysteria in the media regarding the recent cuts in public spending a little hard to deal with at the moment.

This is partly because I work in the Public Sector, and am getting to see first hand how these cuts are having a direct effect not just on services, but people and their families and lives.

Now, don't get me wrong. I am not a moron. Anybody with half a brain can understand that if you live on borrowed money for long enough, eventually you have to start paying back. And whilst we mere mortals may use a credit card to run up bills for holidays, some rather nice shoes and a shiny new car, governments tend to rack the debts up on those less glamorous things such as education, regeneration and welfare. The previous government (apparently) spent rather a lot of cash on headline-grabbing schemes and handouts, in order it would seem to keep their demographic voting for them and allowing them to clutch on to power. They spent money they didn't have on things we probably didn't really need.

They gave away pots of £50million (yes MILLION) quid to a number of estates across Britain and allowed the people who lived there to decide how it should be spent to improve their communities.......one of these projects was set up on an estate near me and they spent a decade "regenerating" it. As far as I could see, nobody was paying too much attention on how the money was spent. Over 7million of that particular pot went on shiny new kitchens and bathrooms for the local tower-block inhabitants.

SEVEN MILLION POUNDS of OUR tax money went on brand new kitchens and bathrooms for a handful of council tenants. They didn't just get a standard upgrade either, they got really sexy ones.

I haven't got a problem with the poor getting the things they need in order to stay alive, but I do have a problem with them having a better standard of living than I do, when they don't go out to work.

The Welfare State has trapped millions of people in this country. My jobless friends have nice houses and pay much, much lower rent than I do (although normally Housing Benefit covers this for them and they don't have to actually pay for it themselves). Most of them have better appliances in their kitchens, cupboards full of food and nicer televisions in their front rooms.

So Welfare needs an overhaul. The Government needs an overhaul. The whole country needs an overhaul and we will just have to get on with it.

However, one of the side-effects of this is that cuts are being made right the way through the Public Sector and I am tired of reading about what a good thing this is. Not everyone who works for the Government, and who isn't a teacher or a nurse does a pointless job. Lots of us are going to become unemployed. Even my position is under some threat, and I HELP unemployed people get back to work.

Oh the irony!

The thing is, although the cuts are necessary, it does not mean that they are not brutal. I don't see the point in people whining about it, but neither should they be celebrating. Real people, who have worked hard their entire adult lives are about to be made redundant. This is not a good thing.

Just GET ON WITH IT!!!!

It never ceases to amaze me how and why people in general don't seem to want to take responsibility for anything they do.

Throughout life, you will spend every single day making decisions. As a child, people will make decisions about the important stuff for you, but as anyone who has ever seen a toddler throw a tantrum knows well, even the youngest among us are making decisions from way before they can even spell the word or understand it's meaning.

As you get older, decisions move from the simple and necessary to the more complex and demanding. Particularly when it comes to your job....well for some of us anyway. Even fairly low-level and not-very-well-paid jobs will normally hold an element of decision making.

What confuses me is what when people make bad decisions (in either work or life circumstances), all too often they then don't want to have to responsibility or deal with the consequences of their actions. It confuses me because we spend out whole lives learning about making decisions and how to deal with it when we do the wrong thing. For me, the sooner I admit I am wrong and start working out how to fix my mistakes, the faster I can learn from the whole experience and move on.

All too often recently, I have found myself in situations where other people have made bad decisions, and instead of trying to correct the wrongs, they have then spent an inordinate amount of time and energy looking for someone or something else to blame. Once they have found somewhere to point the finger, they then do everything they can to avoid having to clean up the mess. The result is that, things take longer to sort out. A lot longer in many cases.

I don't know why people behave in this way. It is pretty alien to me and doesn't make any sense. It must be hugely stressful to have to spend your whole time worrying about who's fault anything that goes wrong is. And also, whether you can convince anyone who'll listen that it isn't you own fault. Surely it is easier to admit defeat, fix things quickly and move on....and also through the process of fixing your mistakes how not to make them again.

I am really starting to think I am some sort of alien, I just don't seem to think like most of the people I know.........

I Am Officially a Puny Little Weakling

And I don't just mean literally.

Well, it's not just that I'm not very strong because although that is true and I will not be winning any arm wrestling competitions any time soon I am a bit tougher than I look. However I am hampered my my tiny child-sized hands when it comes to any heavy lifting. I'm not even joking about that, I can buy gloves from the kid's department in any store and they will fit perfectly. Whereas the lady-sized ones always hang off the ends of my fingers. It is strange to me how someone with such a big arse could have such tiny hands and feet but there you go. Sometimes I wonder how it is that I don't topple over everywhere I go but I suppose I would have to understand Scientific Things for that, which is never going to happen.

The above state of being feeble is largely due to the fact that I caved in today and after two weeks of being Facebook-Free, I reverted to the dark side. Nothing has changed and I don't know if many people even noticed that I have been away. Within about ten minutes of being back, I was being poked so maybe some people did, I have no idea. What I do know is that I haven't really missed the rather more mundane aspects of it. Reading the updates of people who regularly feel the need to inform everyone they know what they are having for dinner does not make my life any more exciting. Which is a shame because if it did, I would be in a permanent state of excitement I think. I have thought of culling friends in the past, but that seems a little mean, simply because I don't have too much in common with them other than we sat in the same classroom for a couple of years over half a lifetime ago......

Which is the problem I have with it all I think.....

Facebook has opened up a whole new type of social etiquette. You make friends with people you are actually friends with, and who you see on a regular basis. There isn't a huge amount of point to your Facebook friendship with them because you see them all the time anyway and you have their phone numbers if you need to talk to them. You also make friends with people you know, that you aren't actually friends with. It always amazes me the amount of people who have friend requested me that I wasn't particularly pleasant to the last time I saw them. I'm not saying I was a bully or anything at school, but as all children are, I was mean to some people. I don't get why they would want to be "friends" with me again now? Unless it's because they are having a great time and want to show off their great lives to the people who poured scorn on them years ago but then if that is the case, why would they care enough to make the effort? Maybe I am just some sort of antisocial crazy person who thinks too much about these things but I do find other people and their motives totally confusing sometimes.

I have, I am pleased to say, used Facebook to catch up with some very old and dear friends who I now don't see very often if at all but the Interweb has brought us together again and it is these friends that keep me coming back in all honesty. I also use it to stay in touch with my family who live at the opposite end of the country, so it useful for that too. I also have friends who live in other countries, who managed to escape the shackles of Southampton. God, I am jealous of them sometimes.

The problem is, that really, I would like to only keep the people with whom I really want to stay in touch with on my friends list. But I can't remove everyone else because that would be just rude, and an admission that I only really accepted their friend request in the first place because I was curious to know what had happened to them, but beyond that, I'm not really interested. I actually feel pretty bad about it!

Am I a bad person?

Probably.

WTF!!!

I am a compooter nerd and I only just noticed :-s

This is Very Bad Indeed.

God, what if I start LIKING Star Trek...???

I would like to state for the record, whilst I am still in control of my faculties, PLEASE if you EVER hear me say that Deep Space Nine "isn't all that bad" you have my complete permission to slap me as hard as you can in the face and then shake me until I come to my senses....!

Basement Dwellers of the World, Unite!!

Damn...

I thought I'd managed to get past my seriously nerdy Internet addiction but it seems each week I am finding new guilty pleasures.

I have finally kicked the Facebook habit (to a degree) and, finally, my life has stopped being dominated by the urge to play with my farm/cafe/sorority/mafia/restaurant/town etc etc etc...

This is because I have now discovered the wonderful world of Evony, a fantabulous home for all those of us who secretly miss the joys of Civilisation. However, it seems to be sucking up such vast amounts of my time that I can't remember what my relatives look like.

I have also started talking like a Star Trek nerd, which is fine when you are talking to overweight Americans who live in Mom's basement, not so much when in conversation with people in the "real" world.

The strangest thing about it all is, I really am no better than the basement dwellers and have realised that I really AM a giant nerd.

I just get away with it cos I'm not ginger.......

A Moment of Calm....

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately.

I've realised (after much tortured musing) that the reason I always feel like everything has gone horribly wrong isn't actually because it has. My life is actually going fairly well. I'm happily married, I have a job that pays well and I (mostly) enjoy doing, I'm healthy (apart from the fags), I have all my limbs (touch wood), I have two cats who love me very much (as long as I remain the provider of food, water and unsolicited cuddles) and I have some marvellous and interesting friends.

What I don't have is autonomous control over everything I do.

This is the problem with having a job. You need one to pay for food, heat, a roof and all those other things it's hard to live without. I don't feel in control of my working day as ultimately, somebody else decides what I should be doing. My job is pretty great, as far as jobs go, but I don't actually want to be working for somebody else forever.

I don't really know how I'm supposed to tackle this. I'm rapidly approaching thirty and time could be an issue. As is money. However, since I had this epiphany, I've found myself moaning a whole lot less. It's like something has switched over inside my head and I don't get so angry about things these days. Being calm is very strange for me, I feel like I've been annoyed for years and suddenly, a cloud has completely lifted from above my head. I'm not sure that this is permanent but I do feel better for the moment.

The next obstacle to overcome is the hulking great one where I have to make a decision about what I want to do. And then, when I've made said decision, I'll have to actually attempt to stick to it. And not get bored and start chasing the next interesting thing that comes along five minutes later......

Could be tricky......

Oh for God's Sake!!

My Internet keeps breaking down.

It's really annoying.

I want to break things. (That aren't my computer because it might start working again if I'm nice).

Ho Hum.

At least I've had a productive day I suppose and I've actually remembered to start writing my blog again which has lapsed woefully over the last year. Which is partly because Facebook isn't working again today and won't let me do anything I want to do.

'Sigh'

Maybe this will inspire me to actually leave the house occasionally and catch up with some of the friends I've been neglecting too.

F**K IT!!
I know, I'll use my time to do something amazingly fun and exciting.

Or I could just sit here writing drivel seeing as all my creativity seems to have been completely sucked out of me. At least I know nobody's reading this, probably because I am rather erratic when it comes to remembering to post, and also because I mainly write drivel, which isn't the sort of thing I read when I've got nothing better to do. So I can't really expect anybody else to want to read it either.

I've been thinking about my life a lot recently. When I was in my teens, I really thought I'd have things sorted out by now. I was going to be rich and famous, live in a big house and not have to worry about crap stuff like bills and hanging out the washing that is currently sitting in it's basket staring at me. It hasn't quite gone according to plan although the things that have gone well have beaten my expectations by miles.

What I did think I might actually do (big house in the country and my own line of soft drinks aside) was to actually be earning money for doing fun, creative things. I regret bitterly that I've managed to sustain my complete inability to properly see anything through. And, indeed, my abject laziness, which is probably the thing that holds me back the most.

The only thing I have really sustained is my amazing ability to moan at great length about the fact that nothing seems to be working out by itself.

I don't think I can get paid for that.......

Help! I Lost Me......

The interesting thing about death is how it makes you feel.

My father passed away last month and since then, I haven't felt like I know who I am, what I'm doing or where I'm going.

The funny thing is, I struggle to remember a time when he wasn't ill. 'They' had been telling us he had six months left since I was about sixteen, so to have had him for an extra twelve years was great. I don't think I ever believed that the day would come that he wouldn't be here any more, and although it wasn't the biggest shock in the world, I still feel as if none of this is real and I've spent the last four weeks dreaming.

Some days I feel so empty, I don't want to get out of bed. These low times are interspersed with periods of extreme hyperactivity, where I run round like Speedy Gonzales at ninety miles an hour, multi-tasking like there will be no tomorrow.

It's like I'm lost and looking for a way back to the entrance of a vast labyrinth. If I can get there, everything will go back to normal, and I'll be able to feel like a person again. I've never really been one for 'fitting in' but at the moment it's like I'm watching the world, rather than being a part of it.

I've been avoiding my friends.

I haven't meant to but I know I've been doing it. I've managed family gatherings but when it comes to spending time with the people who know me best, I've been really struggling to face them. Maybe it's because in some part of my head, I know that they'll be able to see clearly that everything is not right. I can't paper over the cracks so well with people that can see through me like I'm glass so I avoid all contact with them because that way, I won't have to face how empty I feel.

I refuse to go to a therapist or doctor.

I think that the prospect of either being encouraged to take drugs, or talk about my feelings with a complete stranger is even more daunting that the idea of facing this on my own. You can read lots of information about bereavement, and it all pretty much says the same thing. It will make you weird for a while. It will hurt for even longer. But, in the end, all of this will go away.

What it gets replaced with, I'm not sure............

Help!!!

I'm getting married in two days!!!

The getting married is very great but the ORGANISING that has been continual and never-ending for the last 6 months has been rather stressful!!!!!!!

Hence my overuse of exclamation marks.

I can't wait :-)

I might have some time to get back to writing after this.........

I'm an Internet Junkie.....

I've been spending way too much time on my computer lately.

First there was the blog.
Now there is Facebook.
There is also BBC News 24, The Times Online and the Southern Daily Echo (which I read because I find the comments people leave hilarious rather than because I really care about local issues).

I'm starting to worry that in between my constant love affair with my computer, the scarily large number of books I read(as highlighted in the last post) and my late night addiction to DVD Box sets, I have stopped actually talking to other people.

Maybe that's a good thing. I haven't pissed anyone off (to my knowledge) for at least a week.....

Am I The Only Person Who Thinks Facebook Is Rubbish?!

Now, I've had numerous problems since I became a Blogger.
I struggle with all this technical stuff, it's Really Difficult to get to the bottom of how things work. Or it is for little old me anyway.
Everyone I know and their granny keeps asking me if I'm on Facebook, and I wasn't but then I decided to give it a bash and signed up.
God, it's complicated.
Nothing is straightforward or easy to suss out, it makes Blogger look like finger-painting for monkeys.
And I had to make sure I 'blocked' my Evil Ex, which was more effort than I really wanted to make.
Ho-Hum.

I actually left the bingo hall yesterday. It was quite a sad occasion, and I have to confess to getting a bit upset at having to say goodbye to so many people that I will never see again. It was fairly weird and I don't really feel like I've left. I suppose it because I've been there for nearly seven years, so my whole life is going to change.

I got a new job. I can't remember if I mentioned it already but I got the one that I went to the interview for so I'm pretty excited. Not only is it actually doing something worthwhile, but I will be working from Monday to Friday between 9 and 5.30!!!

Woo-Hoo!!

I can't wait to get my social life back....

Not that it was ever really that great, but at least I had one.

I'm A Big Old Skiver!

It's been a little while since my last post.

This is because I have been Very Busy doing Other Things.

This included buying and reading the final installment of Harry Potter. I read the whole thing in under twenty-four hours but obviously had to avoid the Internet after it was released as I didn't want to accidentally stumble upon anything that ruined the ending for me. People just don't care about how upsetting it is to have someone get in the way of discovering things for yourself. It drives me mad when people tell me how a book or films ends before I've seen it. Especially when it's something I've been looking forward to.

So anyway, that's part of my excuse.

I only have a few days left before I become unemployed so my soon to be ex-employers have been working my fingers to the bone. I think they're hoping all this hard work will actually kill me, which to them would be a fitting revenge for my leaving. Not that they're letting on that not having me there will cause all sorts of problems for them. They still haven't sent me a replacement to train, out of pure bloody-minded stubbornness. That would indicate that I am currently needed- and that's the last thing they want me to know. Stupid people. Am glad I'm leaving all this crap behind, I have to say.

Also, we got Sky Movies at home. And Sky Sports. Films and Cricket!!! Yay!!! It does mean that my eyes are slowly going square, and my already failing eyesight is suffering but I get to watch all the things I love, 24 hours a day.

Brilliant.

Oh, and I decided to try and finish knitting the cushion cover I started about four months ago. Yes, knitting is a hobby of mine. It keeps my hands busy and stops me eating/smoking/drinking myself into an early grave.

So that's why I haven't posted for a little while.
Plus there's still nobody reading this so it doesn't really matter.

I (Still) Can't Sleep

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....

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!

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!

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.....