All That Catch-Up Stuff

Sorry I haven't been around for a while. Especially sorry to my watchers. I deleted a whole bunch of blogs from my watched list the other day, because they simply hadn't written anything in months, and I could definitely understand why people would do the same here when I don't post for a long time.

Nothing's really wrong in my life right now, it's just...ehh. Little irritations, like that stupid ear infection, and the tiredness I've been feeling for the last couple of weeks from lack of sleep, and rotten weather, and not really having a proper regime at the moment. My job at the youth center is...well, not exactly coming to an end, since I'll still be there, but most of the kids are now starting to prepare to go back to school, or looking for jobs, and the few who can afford it are going on holiday, and there isn't all that much for me to do. Come October-November time, they'll all trickle back, but August-September is always the slowest time of year there.

Speaking of holidays, I'm going down to Poole on Thursday, to spend five days at the beach. I'm praying that the weather's nice. Last summer we went down for four days, and it basically rained non-stop. I think we had half a sunny day, and most of the rest of it was spent driving around and freezing in a beach cafe in a sweater. And the summer before THAT wasn't all that great. If that happens again this year, I'm going to be very miserable. I want beach parties and sunbathing and lots of swimming, the way we had a couple years ago. I can smell September in the air, and I'm looking forward to Autumn - it's my favourite time of year - but I really really want my five days of suntans and sand and salt water and the smell of coconut.

I even bought two new dresses, in a show of faith. Strangely enough, they're like nothing I've ever worn before. Both of them are brightly coloured - one with a floral print that's mostly pink and red, but has splashes of yellow and green and purple too, and the other with silk-screened star-flower-thingies and lots of green and purple. Neither of them is harsh or painful to the eyes, though. Despire the brightness, there's something very soft and floaty about them, which I love. They're also both silk, although that was a coincidence - I didn't go looking for silk - and I got them at obscenely good prices in the end-of-summer sales.

I don't usually wear bright colours, at least not all together. In autumn I love clothes that are sort of bright-but-subdued - vibrant colours like cranberry and teal and royal purple and peacock blue, but no mixed colours or patterned clothes. It's very rare for me to wear patterned fabrics, especially bright ones. But these just caught my eye, and they're perfect for a summer evening.

(Of course, ideally they're dinner-in-a-nice-restaurant-in-Menorca or sipping-cocktails-on-a-terrace-in-the-Caribbean dresses, but if Bournemouth and Poole is what I'm getting, then Bournemouth and Poole it shall be.)

The weather didn't bother me last year as much as it could, because the night before we went away last summer was when I gave Oli my cell phone number for the first time, and most of the nights I found myself retiring to my room early (we stay with my mom's friend, who lives in a sort of assisted-living place; they all have their own separate flats and it's open-plan and single-story, so the flats are like little houses, but there's a guest room in the warden's building that anyone can book for a small fee - something like £10 a night - so I'm in a separate building about 100m away from mom and her friend) and texting Oli all night. It was the first time we really flirted, and I was so caught up in it that I sort of ignored the weather to a large extent.

(I also ignored my phone bill. I use pay-as-you-go, and typically get a £10 top-up maybe once every two or three months, since I hardly ever use the phone...but I topped up THREE TIMES in those four days, I was texting him so much.)

But anyway, Oli's not going to be around this time. He's going to Nigeria today with his parents - they might be gone already, actually - and he'll be gone for three weeks. He doesn't seem overly happy about going back, but he won't talk about it - all he says is that it's a miserable place. He seems kind of irritated that I don't get how bad it is, but how the hell can I get it if he won't talk to me? And sometimes I end up saying stupid things, things that I don't realise are stupid at the time - like asking him to send me a postcard - and he either finds it very funny that I'm so ignorant, or he gets even more moody and withdrawn.

(Apparently the postcard thing was funny because I was assuming that they'd have postcards, let alone a working mail service. I didn't find it that funny, personally. I repeat, how the hell am I supposed to know these things? And I thought they *did* have a working mail service. When I send letters and birthday cards to my friend G, he gets them, albeit a bit late. And when he sends letters to me, I get them too. So I don't know what the fuck Oli's on about. But then he has a tendency to exaggerate when he's miserable. I have it too, and so does my mom...I think maybe it's an Aquarian thing.)

But anyway. He's been weird with me recently, and I've been wondering if he's going off me or something, but it's too soon to tell. There are so many things he could be upset about - going to Nigeria, being back at home with his parents, not having any money, not having found a decent job yet, not knowing whether he's going into the army in the autumn (a BIG point of contention between us, and right now the less said the better, IMO ), a couple of health problems he's having (not major stuff, but irritating). Could be any or all of those things. Or actually, it could be none of them - could just be standard mood swings. He has them as much as I do.

I wish he'd talk to me, though.

But the break will probably do us good. I just hope and pray that he comes back safely. I don't know what to believe about Nigeria, honestly - G, who lives there, makes it sound like there are annoyances in day-to-day life (like electricity going out and stuff) but life isn't too bad. Oli makes it sound like you'll immediately get mugged just walking outside your front door. And as much as I've been reading about it, both on the net and in books - because I don't WANT to be another ignorant white person - it's all just either dry academic stuff, with little to no sense of what life is like there, or it's material blatantly promoting the country.

God forgive me, but sometimes I think I should just stick to dating guys who were born and raised in England or America, with no culture to speak of. Too many relationships I've been in have had this culture barrier, where I'm considered the outsider, the interloper, and as much as I try to fit in and learn about the culture and be whatever I'm needed to be, I never quite get it right, never fit in the way I need and want to.

I don't think this always happens. It can't possibly always be like this, or how would people ever date and marry outside their race and culture? I guess a large part of it depends on whether the person you're with is happy or not. I imagine that in a happy family, who love and embrace their own culture as well as people from outside it, I'd fit in fine. I could learn about the way of life, and in time I'd feel like I was part of it - a new part, but a part all the same. But so many of my boyfriends and friends, including Oli, have had this culture-related pain, this sense of misery, and that prevents them from ever sharing it with me. Which puts me in a difficult situation - they don't want to share, want to keep home life and life with me separate, but they become angry or sad when I don't understand things. In a way it feels like they hate - or at least resent - that part of themself, that they want to deny it exists, but at the same time it has such a huge influence on their lives that they can never quite forget their misery.

Which is possibly one of the saddest things I can think of.

Actually, now I think about it, I have had boyfriends who were happy to integrate me. Valentino taught me how to speak Italian. (Badly, but he still taught me.) Paul and Bruno both taught me French cooking. Bobby still teaches me Cajun cooking, and tells me about the rituals that his traiteur mother and grandmother do. Michael - who was white Australian on his father's side, Korean (I think) on his mother's - was always happy to tell me about food and religion and dancing and festivals and music and everything else.

I guess the sad ones are just the ones that stick with me the most.

Anyway...what else? Oh, the wedding. It was beautiful, what else can I say? I don't actually remember it in as fine detail as I wanted to, because the ear infection had me pretty doped up. (The valium worked, btw - I did sleep that night, and once I'd slept it didn't hurt so much. Still hurt, but not as much as when I was sleep-deprived, and then that allowed me to sleep again the next night. God bless prescription drugs, LOL. ) Debbie had the most beautiful dress I'd ever seen, and the really cool thing was that my brother designed the whole thing. If he ever decides he's tired of being a pharmacist, he could probably make a career out of dress designing. There were a couple really classic moments of the day that stick out in my mind. Christie walking down the aisle after her mother, looking all prim and proper in her green silk dress with her little bouquet of flowers, and making it as far as me (in the second row from the front) and then sticking her tongue out at me. I'm just praying that the photographer caught that one on camera. Jamie (Debbie's oldest son, and Christie's brother - he must be 20 now, or coming up) took much of the wedding responsibility on board - organising things, fetching people, etc - and that extended to getting people to dance. The funniest moment for me was when I was standing in the dancing room, just sort of shuffling my feet (dancing is NOT something I do wonderfully) and I obviously didn't look terribly cheerful, so to make me laugh he came up to me and started grinding his butt up against me. For a moment I was totally horrified - I was like, "Jay! You're my nephew!" - but everyone was smiling and laughing, and his girlfriend was practically wetting herself with laughter, so I danced. And I grinded. (Is that a word?)

I love Jay. He's such a character. His younger brother Craig is a lot more introverted, quiet where Jay is lively and chatty, but I love him too. And Christie...I adore her. Even though she drives me crazy half the time. I couldn't have inherited a better bunch of niece and nephews. With their ages what they are, they're more like brothers and sisters. Or at least stepbrothers and sisters.

And the newlyweds? I've never seen them so happy. I've never seen my brother happy like this, period. They can't keep their hands off each other (not in a porno way, perv) - they're constantly touching each other, just little pats on the arm or linked fingers when they're sitting down. And every opportunity they get to speak, they say "my wife and I"; "my husband" and all those things - you can see they're just so thrilled to be able to say that.

Yes, I am very very happy for them.

And I imagine once I start living instead of just existing, I'll be happy for me too. After my holiday I need to make a serious effort to get a better job, one with regular hours, and then I can start planning a schedule. And I also need to think about college, if I'm going to do any courses this year. I'd like to, I always like to, but the finance problems I had last year with the college were never completely sorted, and they may not let me in, which would mean I'd have to go to Hemel or Watford for West Herts College - everything closer is part of Oaklands.

Oh well. I'll think about that in a week or ten days. Until then, I'm off to the beach, and will hopefully return refreshed, happier, and with pretty golden skin.

Hope everyone's well, and enjoy the last couple of days of summer!