Dammit, every day I seem to be gaining a watcher, and then losing a watcher. But when I go to look to see if it's the same watcher I've gained and then lost, it never is - it's usually someone I've been communicating with for awhile. In the last couple days, InnerPeace07 and evil_lolita have both disappeared, and they're two of my favourite girls on here.
In normal times I'd assume that they'd turned their profiles off to get some rest, but with things how they are, my first thought is, "Oh God, did someone else get banned?"
I'm starting to change my mind about LadyUnlaced's suggested exodus. I thought things were going to blow over after awhile, and we could all go back to blogging peacefully, but it just appears to be getting worse. It looks to me like a reaction (as in, the scientific term) that's reached its critical point: up until now it could have been stopped if we'd just turned the heat down a bit, but now I'm not sure that anyone can stop it. It reminds me of nothing so much as a phosphorus burn, and I think it's going to keep burning until either all the reactant - in this case, hate and resentment - gets used up, or until we're left with nothing but ashes, and have to rebuild from scratch.
Hopefully I'm just in a pessimistic mood, and this is not a premonition. As an empath, though, it's very hard to remain here when there is so much negative emotion flying around. I often feel emotion, whether it's directed at me or not, as a physical force; people's feelings affect me the way physical blows affect you. Some are worse than others - anger can either be like a fever or like a drug, but the hatred that some people feel is like a third-degree burn to me. And yes, I've had third-degree burns before, albeit on only a small part of my body. Add to which the bubbling resentment that I get from a couple of people on here, resentment that they shove down deep inside them, and this place is making me nauseous and cranky and generally uncomfortable. The deep resentment in particular is a strange thing. In some of us here, it's shoved down so far that only a tinge of it is visible to me. So I "meet" a person (in a blog) and instinctively don't like them, but I don't know why, I only know that something about them makes me uncomfortable. And I can't figure it out, because I feel like I SHOULD like them - they appear to be kind and sweet and generally nice, and their characters seem to smell sweet - until I realise that it's the sweet smell that maggots sometimes get.
No, that paragraph wasn't targeting anyone in particular, although I can tell you, I am quite resentful that I feel that I have to make this disclaimer each time that I say something. I've encountered several people who feel this way to me, both in and out of Blogland, and most of the ones I've met in Blogland are now gone, thank goodness. IRL I've met quite a few recently, too.
I'm not in a fighting mood, or even a defending mood. There are times when I'm happy to stick up for what I feel is right, and take on the world if need be, but I'm not in one of those phases at the moment. I'm tending towards reclusiveness right now - I'm tired, and sick, and I don't feel able to function very well or cope with any demands, even simple ones like doing my paperwork. Mostly I just want to be left alone with my books and some food and the couple of hours a week of TV that I watch. And my Tommy Jay, because none of my wishes to be left alone apply to him. He is my spiritual twin - my mirror, my soul, my shield - and we are bonded tightly enough that I don't think he could leave me alone if he tried. But as far as everyone else goes...yeah.
I've been coming out of my shell a bit in the last week, going to Sainsburys twice (yes, I did go back today, and I did manage to get writing icing for the cookies and three more blue T-shirts, plus a black one, as well as two pieces of New York vanilla cheesecake *drools*) and making cookies and answering emails and talking to B and Zia, and preparing for the hordes of kids that will come tomorrow and flat-out DEMAND candy rather than asking nicely. (In this neighborhood, kids are generally not taught manners.) And tomorrow I will dress up in my long black velvet coat-dress, and my black sequinned bat mask, and blood-red lipstick - my fingernails are already dark red and sparkly - and I'll hand out candy and be generally gregarious, at least for a couple of hours. And I'll spend several hours with the spirits of the Ancestors, because that's what we do on Samhain. So yeah, I can force myself to be social, when necessary. But I'm not quite feeling it yet, and it IS a forced thing rather than something that's coming naturally.
You don't need to be worried about me, though. Like I said, I go through phases. There'll be times when I'm a hermit, and then other times when I'm the life of the party, and socialising comes as naturally to me as breathing.
I can't promise that I'll be posting on anything resembling a regular schedule - although I will try to get that cookie recipe put up, and perhaps a couple more pre-Christmas baking recipes - but even if I disappear for a little while, I'll try and keep myself apprised of what's going on in Blogland, at least the pseudoapocalyptic stuff, and if you need me you can always look me up on Facebook.
Sunday 31 October 2010
Saturday 30 October 2010
News, And Guys, And Baking, And Guys, And Shopping, And...Are We Seeing A Pattern Here?
Bonjour, mes petits fleurs! Or something like that, I don't actually speak French.
This is going to be a short one, because I am full of pepperoni pizza and sleepiness, and I have to be up in about five hours to go to Sainsburys, I promised I'd buy some piping icing, and I want another four T-shirts like the one I bought yesterday for £2.50 or some ridiculous price. It's cornflower blue, and absolutely the most comfy thing I've worn in months, and I've decided that this is what I'm wearing to sleep from now on. So I have to go back and get a bunch more of them.
I had a pretty good day today. The morning was a write-off, as most of my mornings are atm (although not yesterday), but this afternoon I made some phone calls that I'd been putting off, and then Mom and I made icebox cookies. That was difficult, but good. The dough we use is a real pain in the ass, you have to mix it up and then refrigerate it overnight, and then roll it out the next day, cut your cookies and bake. The real problem is that the melting point of this particular dough is very low, so once it's been out of the fridge for about five minutes it starts to go gooey and becomes impossible to work with, and you have to keep putting it back in (it also melts straight away if you have warm hands). It also sticks to EVERYTHING, including the rolling pin, but we managed to get around this by using wax paper. Oh, and if you dust your surfaces with flour to stop it sticking, the dough gets tough and the cookies aren't nice - but we managed to get around THAT by using powdered sugar instead. Aren't we inventive?
So yeah, the dough is a pain. I used it once before and the cookies didn't come out well - they were tough and dry, and I was absolutely crushed because it's the only recipe I have for rolled cookies, that you can use cookie cutters for, and I have SO many wonderful cookie cutters. For Halloween - the ones we used today - I have a bat, a ghost, a cat and a tombstone. For Easter I have a bunny face, and a couple of different flowers. For Christmas I have a holly sprig and a bell and some stars (also good for 4th of July and Thanksgiving) and possibly a couple more. And for Valentines' Day - oh man, Valentines' Day. A couple years ago Mom went really overboard buying Valentines stuff, and I ended up with a bunch of hearts in different sizes, plus a REEEEEALLY expensive set from a gourmet cooking shop, which had a L, an O, a V, an E, a cupid, a pair of interlocked hearts, a heart with an arrow through it, and Lord only knows what else. So yeah, I have a heap of cookie cutters, most of which are good quality metal ones that'll last me half a lifetime, and I'm always buying more - although unlike Mom, I usually buy mine one at a time - so I was pretty unhappy when the last sugar cookie recipe didn't work. I was not looking forward to having to pack away all those cookie cutters. But then today's recipe, despite being a pain in the ass, turned out quite well. After experimenting a bit, I found a way to roll the dough and use the metal fish slice that let me get the shapes up without breaking them or squishing them enough that the shapes were unrecognizable. The only one that really gave me problems was the cat - the legs and tail were so thin and spindly the dough wouldn't hold together. I did manage to keep the legs on most of them, but all the tails fell off. Guess they have to be Manx cats.
Happily, I can tell you they taste pretty awesome. I'm not so much of a decorated sugar cookie type person - I tend to like big chewy cookies, either of the peanut butter or the oatmeal-raisin varieties (or occasionally chocolate chip) - but they did taste good. They need a bit of brightness, though, so I have to go to Sainsburys to get some pipe icing, since I can't find my icing bag.
(The fact that I can also get T-shirts and scope out the adorable guy who gave me the most perfect smile yesterday...well, that's just the icing on the cookie, so to speak.)
So anyway. Yes. Good day. I didn't manage to carve the pumpkin that Mom wanted me to do, though. I need to do that tomorrow, because I went a bit overboard with pumpkins this year, and ended up with four instead of our usual two (or occasionally three, if I have a boyfriend that year). We also usually get little ones, and this year I ended up buying one little one, two medium ones and one that's actually pretty huge. Not huge compared to the ones you sometimes see at State Fairs, but certainly bigger than a basketball - perhaps twice the size.
At Sainsburys yesterday, they had these absolutely adorable ones called Munchkins, which were smaller than my fist. Not much good for carving, unless you're extremely good at it (which neither of us are) but so cute to look at. I managed to restrain myself, though. (Although there's always tomorrow.)
I wish I'd managed to get to Marshalswick to get some decorative gourds from the florists there, they always do nice ones for a reasonable price in Autumn. The ones in the supermarkets are ridiculous prices. I did get some nice Indian corn, though.
Oh, how I love Fall!
Hopefully it'll be bright enough tomorrow to take pictures of the cookies and pumpkins. And I'll post the cookie recipe when I get my hands on the cookbook.
Oh, the other nice thing - I finally managed to get to the bookshop on a Thursday morning, and that guy was there again. I didn't get to see much of him - he was working in the back room, and he only came out a couple of times to stock shelves - but when he came near me, and we were standing back to back, I got this rush of emotion from him. I can't even explain what emotion it was, exactly - sometimes they're like a jolt of electricity, and the shock of it prevents me from analysing it properly - but it was intense. I doubt that it was about me, but it still felt amazing. I can't explain what it is about him, but I just find myself wanting to be around him. It's not even a lust thing really, although he is attractive. There's just this yearning in me for intellectual and emotional stimulation that he fulfills, much in the same way that Kurisu-san does. (That's my redheaded musician, who I should be in class with this year, and I miss a great deal.) The only explanation that I can give is that some people feel things very strongly, and project them very strongly, and those people are like gravity to me. (Or more accurately, like magnetism or nuclear forces, since gravity's actually quite weak, comparatively speaking.)
Since I don't have pics of the cookies or pumpkins or Halloween decorations yet, here's a pic of the dress I was wearing when I met him. (He seemed to like it, or at least he kept looking at it.) [Whoops! Already posted the picture on the post I wrote about him. That's what I get for not looking ahead, I guess.]
Hope y'all are enjoying the Fall!
This is going to be a short one, because I am full of pepperoni pizza and sleepiness, and I have to be up in about five hours to go to Sainsburys, I promised I'd buy some piping icing, and I want another four T-shirts like the one I bought yesterday for £2.50 or some ridiculous price. It's cornflower blue, and absolutely the most comfy thing I've worn in months, and I've decided that this is what I'm wearing to sleep from now on. So I have to go back and get a bunch more of them.
I had a pretty good day today. The morning was a write-off, as most of my mornings are atm (although not yesterday), but this afternoon I made some phone calls that I'd been putting off, and then Mom and I made icebox cookies. That was difficult, but good. The dough we use is a real pain in the ass, you have to mix it up and then refrigerate it overnight, and then roll it out the next day, cut your cookies and bake. The real problem is that the melting point of this particular dough is very low, so once it's been out of the fridge for about five minutes it starts to go gooey and becomes impossible to work with, and you have to keep putting it back in (it also melts straight away if you have warm hands). It also sticks to EVERYTHING, including the rolling pin, but we managed to get around this by using wax paper. Oh, and if you dust your surfaces with flour to stop it sticking, the dough gets tough and the cookies aren't nice - but we managed to get around THAT by using powdered sugar instead. Aren't we inventive?
So yeah, the dough is a pain. I used it once before and the cookies didn't come out well - they were tough and dry, and I was absolutely crushed because it's the only recipe I have for rolled cookies, that you can use cookie cutters for, and I have SO many wonderful cookie cutters. For Halloween - the ones we used today - I have a bat, a ghost, a cat and a tombstone. For Easter I have a bunny face, and a couple of different flowers. For Christmas I have a holly sprig and a bell and some stars (also good for 4th of July and Thanksgiving) and possibly a couple more. And for Valentines' Day - oh man, Valentines' Day. A couple years ago Mom went really overboard buying Valentines stuff, and I ended up with a bunch of hearts in different sizes, plus a REEEEEALLY expensive set from a gourmet cooking shop, which had a L, an O, a V, an E, a cupid, a pair of interlocked hearts, a heart with an arrow through it, and Lord only knows what else. So yeah, I have a heap of cookie cutters, most of which are good quality metal ones that'll last me half a lifetime, and I'm always buying more - although unlike Mom, I usually buy mine one at a time - so I was pretty unhappy when the last sugar cookie recipe didn't work. I was not looking forward to having to pack away all those cookie cutters. But then today's recipe, despite being a pain in the ass, turned out quite well. After experimenting a bit, I found a way to roll the dough and use the metal fish slice that let me get the shapes up without breaking them or squishing them enough that the shapes were unrecognizable. The only one that really gave me problems was the cat - the legs and tail were so thin and spindly the dough wouldn't hold together. I did manage to keep the legs on most of them, but all the tails fell off. Guess they have to be Manx cats.
Happily, I can tell you they taste pretty awesome. I'm not so much of a decorated sugar cookie type person - I tend to like big chewy cookies, either of the peanut butter or the oatmeal-raisin varieties (or occasionally chocolate chip) - but they did taste good. They need a bit of brightness, though, so I have to go to Sainsburys to get some pipe icing, since I can't find my icing bag.
(The fact that I can also get T-shirts and scope out the adorable guy who gave me the most perfect smile yesterday...well, that's just the icing on the cookie, so to speak.)
So anyway. Yes. Good day. I didn't manage to carve the pumpkin that Mom wanted me to do, though. I need to do that tomorrow, because I went a bit overboard with pumpkins this year, and ended up with four instead of our usual two (or occasionally three, if I have a boyfriend that year). We also usually get little ones, and this year I ended up buying one little one, two medium ones and one that's actually pretty huge. Not huge compared to the ones you sometimes see at State Fairs, but certainly bigger than a basketball - perhaps twice the size.
At Sainsburys yesterday, they had these absolutely adorable ones called Munchkins, which were smaller than my fist. Not much good for carving, unless you're extremely good at it (which neither of us are) but so cute to look at. I managed to restrain myself, though. (Although there's always tomorrow.)
I wish I'd managed to get to Marshalswick to get some decorative gourds from the florists there, they always do nice ones for a reasonable price in Autumn. The ones in the supermarkets are ridiculous prices. I did get some nice Indian corn, though.
Oh, how I love Fall!
Hopefully it'll be bright enough tomorrow to take pictures of the cookies and pumpkins. And I'll post the cookie recipe when I get my hands on the cookbook.
Oh, the other nice thing - I finally managed to get to the bookshop on a Thursday morning, and that guy was there again. I didn't get to see much of him - he was working in the back room, and he only came out a couple of times to stock shelves - but when he came near me, and we were standing back to back, I got this rush of emotion from him. I can't even explain what emotion it was, exactly - sometimes they're like a jolt of electricity, and the shock of it prevents me from analysing it properly - but it was intense. I doubt that it was about me, but it still felt amazing. I can't explain what it is about him, but I just find myself wanting to be around him. It's not even a lust thing really, although he is attractive. There's just this yearning in me for intellectual and emotional stimulation that he fulfills, much in the same way that Kurisu-san does. (That's my redheaded musician, who I should be in class with this year, and I miss a great deal.) The only explanation that I can give is that some people feel things very strongly, and project them very strongly, and those people are like gravity to me. (Or more accurately, like magnetism or nuclear forces, since gravity's actually quite weak, comparatively speaking.)
Since I don't have pics of the cookies or pumpkins or Halloween decorations yet, here's a pic of the dress I was wearing when I met him. (He seemed to like it, or at least he kept looking at it.) [Whoops! Already posted the picture on the post I wrote about him. That's what I get for not looking ahead, I guess.]
Hope y'all are enjoying the Fall!
Tuesday 26 October 2010
Ooh, New Undies!
WARNING: This post contains semi-nude pictures that some readers may find offensive.
I was going to write you a blog detailing what I've been up to the last few days, but I'm too tired. Don't worry, you're not missing much - they've been pretty much a write-off, both time-wise and money-wise.
So I'll just give you a new pic instead. The bra is new, red silk, and has matching panties with a cut-out heart on the back - if I can get someone to take a pic of the panties I'll put that up too. (And maybe put it on BlackProfessor's Booty November post.)
I so need to get a decent camera, so I can get pics that show the detail on these things. *sigh*
But anyway. Hope you're all well, and I'll be back to posting as soon as I stop sleeping all the time.
I was going to write you a blog detailing what I've been up to the last few days, but I'm too tired. Don't worry, you're not missing much - they've been pretty much a write-off, both time-wise and money-wise.
So I'll just give you a new pic instead. The bra is new, red silk, and has matching panties with a cut-out heart on the back - if I can get someone to take a pic of the panties I'll put that up too. (And maybe put it on BlackProfessor's Booty November post.)
I so need to get a decent camera, so I can get pics that show the detail on these things. *sigh*
But anyway. Hope you're all well, and I'll be back to posting as soon as I stop sleeping all the time.
Sunday 24 October 2010
Words To Live By
[I do miss AFF occasionally, because some of my posts - this one, for example - had a LOT of views. This one had over 12,000, and that doesn't even take into account the people who viewed it as part of the whole blog. It's hard to give that up for a blog where you currently have one follower and a handful of views a day.
That said, I don't miss the rounds of drama and nastiness that went on there. It's amazing how cruel people can get sometimes when you challenge them. I posted this in response to a month or so of "war" (*snorts*) on there. And probably fed the flames by doing so, but ho hum, them's the breaks.]
I created this post as a reaction to the recent blog drama. I have chosen not to participate in any of it, but I do now feel that I need to have my say. Therefore I offer this to you: my code of blogging conduct. This is a code that is personal to me, not something that I believe all bloggers should live by, but I urge you to create your own so that people may know who you are and what you stand for without needing to resort to names and labels that can have multiple interpretations.
I cannot promise you a blog without drama. I write from life, and my life is dramatic. Or so it seems. Perhaps you, too, feel that way about your life.
I can promise you that my drama is *my* drama, and that while you are here bearing witness to it, you will never need to get involved unless you choose to.
I cannot promise you a toxic-free blog. I write for therapy; my journal is my way of purging the emotional toxins that would otherwise build up and poison me from the inside out.
I can promise you that I am just as willing to share the love and lightness in my life as I am willing to share the shadows. And there is a lot of love and lightness, despite the sometimes grim posts that I make.
I cannot promise you that the numbers mean nothing to me. I see comments and watchers as a validation that I am doing something I love, and doing it well, and I see nothing wrong with feeling this way.
I can promise you that I am not here to be adored by everyone. In the outside world, I live a life where it is necessary to play everyone's sweetheart, and I tend to find it as much of a burden as a blessing. I am here to escape that.
I cannot promise you that I will never have a problem with you. I can be impatient at the best of times, and not everyone is my cup of tea. I have played the open-armed, love-everyone goddess for many years, and I am not willing to play it here.
I can promise you that if I have a problem with you, I will contact you directly to see if it can be resolved, and if it cannot, I will let you be.
I cannot promise you that I will never offend you. Sometimes I will, and you are free to either leave, or to tell me exactly what it is you find offensive - just as I am free to consider your point of view and either write it off or make changes to my own opinions and / or actions.
I can promise you that I am basically a kind person, whose brain damage occasionally causes her to say unintentionally hurtful things, and when this happens I will do my utmost to apologise and atone. I can also promise that I am not someone who is hesitant to change their opinion. Life is a continuous cycle of learning and adapting, and I am (almost) always willing to listen to people who believe that something that I have said or done is wrong. I may not agree, but I will listen.
I cannot promise you that you will not have an issue with my friends. Your relationships with people, whether I know them or not, are not my business.
I can promise you that I will never rely on my friends to defend my honor. My honor does not need defending; it is not at risk. Nothing that you can say or do will damage my integrity in the slightest. Only I can do that.
This is my pledge, my manifesto, the code of conduct that I intend to hold myself to. I do not believe that arbitrary labels are useful: I believe that only by creating a personal code and attempting to live by that code can we create a definition of ourself that others can understand.
~ Sati-Marie Frost - October 2010 ~
(Please feel free to repost.)
That said, I don't miss the rounds of drama and nastiness that went on there. It's amazing how cruel people can get sometimes when you challenge them. I posted this in response to a month or so of "war" (*snorts*) on there. And probably fed the flames by doing so, but ho hum, them's the breaks.]
I created this post as a reaction to the recent blog drama. I have chosen not to participate in any of it, but I do now feel that I need to have my say. Therefore I offer this to you: my code of blogging conduct. This is a code that is personal to me, not something that I believe all bloggers should live by, but I urge you to create your own so that people may know who you are and what you stand for without needing to resort to names and labels that can have multiple interpretations.
I cannot promise you a blog without drama. I write from life, and my life is dramatic. Or so it seems. Perhaps you, too, feel that way about your life.
I can promise you that my drama is *my* drama, and that while you are here bearing witness to it, you will never need to get involved unless you choose to.
I cannot promise you a toxic-free blog. I write for therapy; my journal is my way of purging the emotional toxins that would otherwise build up and poison me from the inside out.
I can promise you that I am just as willing to share the love and lightness in my life as I am willing to share the shadows. And there is a lot of love and lightness, despite the sometimes grim posts that I make.
I cannot promise you that the numbers mean nothing to me. I see comments and watchers as a validation that I am doing something I love, and doing it well, and I see nothing wrong with feeling this way.
I can promise you that I am not here to be adored by everyone. In the outside world, I live a life where it is necessary to play everyone's sweetheart, and I tend to find it as much of a burden as a blessing. I am here to escape that.
I cannot promise you that I will never have a problem with you. I can be impatient at the best of times, and not everyone is my cup of tea. I have played the open-armed, love-everyone goddess for many years, and I am not willing to play it here.
I can promise you that if I have a problem with you, I will contact you directly to see if it can be resolved, and if it cannot, I will let you be.
I cannot promise you that I will never offend you. Sometimes I will, and you are free to either leave, or to tell me exactly what it is you find offensive - just as I am free to consider your point of view and either write it off or make changes to my own opinions and / or actions.
I can promise you that I am basically a kind person, whose brain damage occasionally causes her to say unintentionally hurtful things, and when this happens I will do my utmost to apologise and atone. I can also promise that I am not someone who is hesitant to change their opinion. Life is a continuous cycle of learning and adapting, and I am (almost) always willing to listen to people who believe that something that I have said or done is wrong. I may not agree, but I will listen.
I cannot promise you that you will not have an issue with my friends. Your relationships with people, whether I know them or not, are not my business.
I can promise you that I will never rely on my friends to defend my honor. My honor does not need defending; it is not at risk. Nothing that you can say or do will damage my integrity in the slightest. Only I can do that.
This is my pledge, my manifesto, the code of conduct that I intend to hold myself to. I do not believe that arbitrary labels are useful: I believe that only by creating a personal code and attempting to live by that code can we create a definition of ourself that others can understand.
~ Sati-Marie Frost - October 2010 ~
(Please feel free to repost.)
Saturday 23 October 2010
MOBO Awards 2010-11
Sooo, I'm supposed to be blogging this a couple of days ago at the actual awards, but life interfered with my plans so the best I could do was a repeat on BBC1. Nevermind, there's always next year.
Anyway...
The show opens with Mark Ronson. I can't remember the name of the song, because it's one that I don't like. Mark looks cool though, with platinum Ken-doll hair (I saw it like this the other day on Buzzcocks). Whatever the first song is segues into "Money in my Pocket", with Wiley coming onto the stage to sing. Good way to start a show, everyone seems to like both Wiley and Ronson. I don't know why I can't warm up to Mark's music. Hmm...
The song finishes, and the next camera shot is of someone being carried in on a litter. Who is that person that they're carrying like a king? Heyyy, it's Reggie Yates, our co-presenter tonight. Nice to see him again, I haven't seen him in anything since Trinity.
Reggie stands up, introduces himself, and makes some joke about Jason Derulo. Ooh, Reg, I didn't know you could be a bit of a bitch. It's OK though, because DeRulo stands up and sings in the "queen" of the night...the lovely Alesha Dixon! She's wearing some bizarre concoction of magenta and black with Nicole Scherzinger-style shoulder pads, but it's OK, because hey, it's Alesha Dixon, and I still would. Reg looks bizarre but quite good in what appears to be a petrol-blue velvet jacket with a waistcoat underneath. He also has on geek-chic black-rimmed glasses - he's obviously channelling Tinie Tempah tonight - and they suit him well.
Best UK Hip-Hop is introduced, and Jermaine Jackson comes out to present it. What on earth is he wearing? Some sort of pantsuit with sequins all over. Oh well, he's a Jackson, he could wear anything he wanted and he wouldn't be the oddest one - probably wouldn't even be in the Top 5. Nominated for Best Hip-Hop are Giggs, Professor Green, Skepta, Akala and Wiley. I figure it'll go to Wiley or Skepta, hopefully the latter since he had such a great year, but Professor Green gets it. I guess his songs really took off. Actually, I liked the first one a lot, not so sure about the Lily Allen one.
JLS come on to present the Best Newcomer award, since they won it last year. Up for this one are Tinie Tempah, Professor Green, Scorcher, Labrinth and Devlin. It's gotta be Tinie, right? And it is. Sheesh, that man gets hotter every day. He can even get away with tight jeans, a style that I normally loathe on non-emo men. The JLS boys look pretty damn good too, not that I've ever seen them looking anything less than immaculate.
N-Dubz (who are interviewing people backstage) come and perform their new song. I can't remember what it's called - Best Behaviour, maybe? Not one of my favourites of their songs, but it's a good solid performance, and did anyone know Fazer could play the piano that beautifully? I'd never have guessed.
Best Album is up next, and Nelly's here presenting. The choices are Plan B's "The Defamation of Strickland Banks", JLS' self-titled, N-Dubz's "Against All Odds", Chipmunk's "I Am Chipmunk" and Dizzee Rascal's "Tongue in Cheek". I'm guessing it'll go to N-Dubz or Chipmunk (although surely Chipmunk's album came out more than a year ago?) but JLS get it. Well, that's nice. They're as sweet as ever when they accept.
Alesha comes to to perform "Drummer Boy". Another weird dress, this time white. Plus lots of hot male dancers to perv at - so the time goes quickly, even though I'm not in love with the song.
Ryan Thomas and Holly someone (I didn't catch her last name) come up to present Best Music Video. It's between Mark Ronson & The Business INTL ft. Q-Tip & MNDR's "Bang, Bang, Bang", Tinie & Labrinth's "Frisky", Tinchy Stryder's "You're Not Alone" (now I KNOW that one is more than a year old, they played it at the gym last summer), Alesha's "Drummer Boy" and Dizzee Rascal's "Dirtee Disco". I kind of hope Dizzee gets it, because the video for that was so hilarious, but I'm not disappointed when Tinie gets his second award of the night. Good, he's had a great year, and I'm glad that it's being recognized.
N-Dubz briefly interview Jay Sean, and when they ask him what British stuff they should take to America with them, he tells them Jaffa Cakes, Hob Nobs, Rich Tea, basically all kinds of biscuits. Bless, I'd happily take - or bake - him biscuits as long as he'd take me along with them. Next we're back to the stage, and Jay Sean's performing a musical mix. He looks good in jeans and a really beautifully cut tuxedo jacket, which has silk lapels with a notched collar instead of a shawl collar - good choice, he's too broad in the chest to wear a shawl collar well. Not sure about the trainers, boots would have been a better choice methinks. He performs well, though, and Skepta comes onstage to sing along with him on the last song, the title of which slips my mind atm.
Reg and Alesha are back. Who on earth picked her clothing for tonight? This one looks like two nice dresses were taken and made into one weird dress - silver lame top and a poufy white skirt. Oh well, she's still hot. Reg and a troupe of dancers decide to highlight past MOBO shows using the medium of interpretive dance while we hear songs from the past - Lighthouse Family's "Lifted", Mark Morrison's "Return of the Mack", Artful Dodger & Craig David's "Rewind", something by Wiley, and Dizzee Rascal's "Bonkers". Hmm. The dancers are very good, but not sure what their dances have to do with the previous shows. Nice bit of nostalgia though - I remember most of the shows from those times.
Backstage again, where N-Dubz are interviewing Tinie Tempah, who's looking smokin'. Ahhh, that smile...I could watch that all day. Our favourite trio all look a bit weird - Dappy's wearing way too much bling (why am I surprised?), Fazer's in some sort of lumberjack's plaid jacket and Tulisa is wearing a weird dress, I think it's supposed to be black and gold but on camera it comes out more olive green. Somehow she manages to pull it off, although I'm not sure I know anyone else who could.
Back in the main hall, and Professor Green's performing "Monster", along with the very sexy Ed Drewett. They perform well together, and I hope that they continue making music.
Best UK Act is up, and Michelle Williams is here with Ricky someone (again, I didn't catch his last name) to present. Ah, this is how a woman should dress at a show like this! She looks fantastic in a teal green dress. Up for this award are Tinie, Jay Sean, Taio Cruz, N-Dubz and JLS - all good candidates. I have my fingers crossed for Jay Sean, although this wasn't his best year, but JLS get it. Not that I'm disappointed, I get to see the yummy lads again, and Marvin actually speaks this time!
Tinie performs "Pass Out" and I nearly do. Phew.
N-Dubz chat a bit more from backstage. Tulisa is lying on a chaise-lounge, being fanned by men in grass skirts. Oh, the life of a celebrity...
Corinne Bailey Rae comes on to present Best Song. She looks nice, with a gray outfit and lots of hair. Up are Taio Cruz f. Ke$ha's "Dirty Picture", N-Dubz f. Mr Hudson's "Playing With Fire", Tinie Tempah's "Pass Out", Mark Ronson's "Bang Bang Bang" and Professor Green's "I Need You Tonight". Is Tinie gonna get yet another award? Nope, it goes to N-Dubz, and they dedicate it "to one man only - Uncle B". Is there really an Uncle B? Guess so.
Reggie's been moving from table to table through the evening, and now he's at JLS' table, so he interviews the lads and asks them what music they've really been liking this year. JB loves the whole of Drake's album - good choice. Marvin loves Tinie Tempah, Oritse loves Labrinth, and Aston asks if he should sing the song he's been singing in the shower for ages. Reg answers in the affirmative, and Aston starts singing "Billionnaire". Which leads right to the next performance, the delightful Travie McCoy. Bruno Mars isn't here tonight, so JLS get up on stage with him to sing the chorus. I've liked Travie ever since Gym Class Heroes released "Cupid's Chokehold", and for some reason he reminds me of Curt - they don't look or act anything alike, but there's something in the way they grin, and the way they hold their head when they're being charming.
Straight on from Travie's performance is Nelly singing "Just a Dream". I've never heard this song, but it's really nice. It's a nice understated performance, too, in contrast to the energy of the last one. Nelly looks really good in a navy blue sweater and - OMG, could it be! It is! Finally, a pair of jeans that fits properly. First ones I've seen this evening. And is that Slash in the background, playing guitar? Surely not, I must be imagining it.
Reg announces the Lifetime Achievement award, and Trevor Nelson comes on to talk about the recipient. He's looking pretty sharp in a nice plain suit, sort of mink-coloured. The jacket fits really well, and while I'm not a fan of pleat-front pants, they actually look alright on him. He says a couple of things about the recipient of the award, and it's pretty clear he's talking about Billy Ocean. Lovely, who doesn't like a bit of Billy Ocean? Billy comes out to recieve his award, and talks about how different it was in his day, and how happy he is that there are things around like the MOBOs, so artists can get the recognition they deserve. He looks great too, in an avocado-green suit that shouldn't work but somehow does.
Roll Deep come on to perform a mix of "Green Light" and "Good Times". I'm liking this album, it's very upbeat.
Reg makes a very hammy speech about peace - LOL.
Kanya King - the founder of the MOBOs - comes out to talk a little about the awards. God she's beautiful. I don't know how old she is, but if she thought up the MOBOs 15 years ago she's got to be more than 19, which is about how old she looks. Her dress is gorgeous too, white with slightly puffed sleeves and flapper-type fringe.
Tinchy Stryder closes the show. He's looking casual and good, and reminds me of Oli more than ever. I quite like this song (Second Chance) and am glad that he and Taio Cruz are collaborating again. Taio isn't onstage, but he's singing on the monitor behind. Tinch then sings something else - I'm not sure what - and is joined by Giggs, Professor Green and Devlin. What a great quartet! Oh, there's Tinie too - so a quintet. Nice way to close the show.
All in all, it was a great show. I'm sorry I couldn't be there in person - health probs got in the way, so Cam took his brother and sister (thank God they could get a third ticket last minute!) - especially since BBC1 only showed half the show. The bits they cut out were Best African Act, Best Reggae, Best Jazz, Best Gospel, Best UK R&B / Soul, Best International and BeMOBO (I don't know what that is). I particularly missed the Best Reggae, because I hear Gyptian won - I love him. That said, it was nice to watch from the comfort of my couch and blog to you from my bed rather than the car!
Hope you enjoyed, and you can always catch the show on BBC iPlayer.
Anyway...
The show opens with Mark Ronson. I can't remember the name of the song, because it's one that I don't like. Mark looks cool though, with platinum Ken-doll hair (I saw it like this the other day on Buzzcocks). Whatever the first song is segues into "Money in my Pocket", with Wiley coming onto the stage to sing. Good way to start a show, everyone seems to like both Wiley and Ronson. I don't know why I can't warm up to Mark's music. Hmm...
The song finishes, and the next camera shot is of someone being carried in on a litter. Who is that person that they're carrying like a king? Heyyy, it's Reggie Yates, our co-presenter tonight. Nice to see him again, I haven't seen him in anything since Trinity.
Reggie stands up, introduces himself, and makes some joke about Jason Derulo. Ooh, Reg, I didn't know you could be a bit of a bitch. It's OK though, because DeRulo stands up and sings in the "queen" of the night...the lovely Alesha Dixon! She's wearing some bizarre concoction of magenta and black with Nicole Scherzinger-style shoulder pads, but it's OK, because hey, it's Alesha Dixon, and I still would. Reg looks bizarre but quite good in what appears to be a petrol-blue velvet jacket with a waistcoat underneath. He also has on geek-chic black-rimmed glasses - he's obviously channelling Tinie Tempah tonight - and they suit him well.
Best UK Hip-Hop is introduced, and Jermaine Jackson comes out to present it. What on earth is he wearing? Some sort of pantsuit with sequins all over. Oh well, he's a Jackson, he could wear anything he wanted and he wouldn't be the oddest one - probably wouldn't even be in the Top 5. Nominated for Best Hip-Hop are Giggs, Professor Green, Skepta, Akala and Wiley. I figure it'll go to Wiley or Skepta, hopefully the latter since he had such a great year, but Professor Green gets it. I guess his songs really took off. Actually, I liked the first one a lot, not so sure about the Lily Allen one.
JLS come on to present the Best Newcomer award, since they won it last year. Up for this one are Tinie Tempah, Professor Green, Scorcher, Labrinth and Devlin. It's gotta be Tinie, right? And it is. Sheesh, that man gets hotter every day. He can even get away with tight jeans, a style that I normally loathe on non-emo men. The JLS boys look pretty damn good too, not that I've ever seen them looking anything less than immaculate.
N-Dubz (who are interviewing people backstage) come and perform their new song. I can't remember what it's called - Best Behaviour, maybe? Not one of my favourites of their songs, but it's a good solid performance, and did anyone know Fazer could play the piano that beautifully? I'd never have guessed.
Best Album is up next, and Nelly's here presenting. The choices are Plan B's "The Defamation of Strickland Banks", JLS' self-titled, N-Dubz's "Against All Odds", Chipmunk's "I Am Chipmunk" and Dizzee Rascal's "Tongue in Cheek". I'm guessing it'll go to N-Dubz or Chipmunk (although surely Chipmunk's album came out more than a year ago?) but JLS get it. Well, that's nice. They're as sweet as ever when they accept.
Alesha comes to to perform "Drummer Boy". Another weird dress, this time white. Plus lots of hot male dancers to perv at - so the time goes quickly, even though I'm not in love with the song.
Ryan Thomas and Holly someone (I didn't catch her last name) come up to present Best Music Video. It's between Mark Ronson & The Business INTL ft. Q-Tip & MNDR's "Bang, Bang, Bang", Tinie & Labrinth's "Frisky", Tinchy Stryder's "You're Not Alone" (now I KNOW that one is more than a year old, they played it at the gym last summer), Alesha's "Drummer Boy" and Dizzee Rascal's "Dirtee Disco". I kind of hope Dizzee gets it, because the video for that was so hilarious, but I'm not disappointed when Tinie gets his second award of the night. Good, he's had a great year, and I'm glad that it's being recognized.
N-Dubz briefly interview Jay Sean, and when they ask him what British stuff they should take to America with them, he tells them Jaffa Cakes, Hob Nobs, Rich Tea, basically all kinds of biscuits. Bless, I'd happily take - or bake - him biscuits as long as he'd take me along with them. Next we're back to the stage, and Jay Sean's performing a musical mix. He looks good in jeans and a really beautifully cut tuxedo jacket, which has silk lapels with a notched collar instead of a shawl collar - good choice, he's too broad in the chest to wear a shawl collar well. Not sure about the trainers, boots would have been a better choice methinks. He performs well, though, and Skepta comes onstage to sing along with him on the last song, the title of which slips my mind atm.
Reg and Alesha are back. Who on earth picked her clothing for tonight? This one looks like two nice dresses were taken and made into one weird dress - silver lame top and a poufy white skirt. Oh well, she's still hot. Reg and a troupe of dancers decide to highlight past MOBO shows using the medium of interpretive dance while we hear songs from the past - Lighthouse Family's "Lifted", Mark Morrison's "Return of the Mack", Artful Dodger & Craig David's "Rewind", something by Wiley, and Dizzee Rascal's "Bonkers". Hmm. The dancers are very good, but not sure what their dances have to do with the previous shows. Nice bit of nostalgia though - I remember most of the shows from those times.
Backstage again, where N-Dubz are interviewing Tinie Tempah, who's looking smokin'. Ahhh, that smile...I could watch that all day. Our favourite trio all look a bit weird - Dappy's wearing way too much bling (why am I surprised?), Fazer's in some sort of lumberjack's plaid jacket and Tulisa is wearing a weird dress, I think it's supposed to be black and gold but on camera it comes out more olive green. Somehow she manages to pull it off, although I'm not sure I know anyone else who could.
Back in the main hall, and Professor Green's performing "Monster", along with the very sexy Ed Drewett. They perform well together, and I hope that they continue making music.
Best UK Act is up, and Michelle Williams is here with Ricky someone (again, I didn't catch his last name) to present. Ah, this is how a woman should dress at a show like this! She looks fantastic in a teal green dress. Up for this award are Tinie, Jay Sean, Taio Cruz, N-Dubz and JLS - all good candidates. I have my fingers crossed for Jay Sean, although this wasn't his best year, but JLS get it. Not that I'm disappointed, I get to see the yummy lads again, and Marvin actually speaks this time!
Tinie performs "Pass Out" and I nearly do. Phew.
N-Dubz chat a bit more from backstage. Tulisa is lying on a chaise-lounge, being fanned by men in grass skirts. Oh, the life of a celebrity...
Corinne Bailey Rae comes on to present Best Song. She looks nice, with a gray outfit and lots of hair. Up are Taio Cruz f. Ke$ha's "Dirty Picture", N-Dubz f. Mr Hudson's "Playing With Fire", Tinie Tempah's "Pass Out", Mark Ronson's "Bang Bang Bang" and Professor Green's "I Need You Tonight". Is Tinie gonna get yet another award? Nope, it goes to N-Dubz, and they dedicate it "to one man only - Uncle B". Is there really an Uncle B? Guess so.
Reggie's been moving from table to table through the evening, and now he's at JLS' table, so he interviews the lads and asks them what music they've really been liking this year. JB loves the whole of Drake's album - good choice. Marvin loves Tinie Tempah, Oritse loves Labrinth, and Aston asks if he should sing the song he's been singing in the shower for ages. Reg answers in the affirmative, and Aston starts singing "Billionnaire". Which leads right to the next performance, the delightful Travie McCoy. Bruno Mars isn't here tonight, so JLS get up on stage with him to sing the chorus. I've liked Travie ever since Gym Class Heroes released "Cupid's Chokehold", and for some reason he reminds me of Curt - they don't look or act anything alike, but there's something in the way they grin, and the way they hold their head when they're being charming.
Straight on from Travie's performance is Nelly singing "Just a Dream". I've never heard this song, but it's really nice. It's a nice understated performance, too, in contrast to the energy of the last one. Nelly looks really good in a navy blue sweater and - OMG, could it be! It is! Finally, a pair of jeans that fits properly. First ones I've seen this evening. And is that Slash in the background, playing guitar? Surely not, I must be imagining it.
Reg announces the Lifetime Achievement award, and Trevor Nelson comes on to talk about the recipient. He's looking pretty sharp in a nice plain suit, sort of mink-coloured. The jacket fits really well, and while I'm not a fan of pleat-front pants, they actually look alright on him. He says a couple of things about the recipient of the award, and it's pretty clear he's talking about Billy Ocean. Lovely, who doesn't like a bit of Billy Ocean? Billy comes out to recieve his award, and talks about how different it was in his day, and how happy he is that there are things around like the MOBOs, so artists can get the recognition they deserve. He looks great too, in an avocado-green suit that shouldn't work but somehow does.
Roll Deep come on to perform a mix of "Green Light" and "Good Times". I'm liking this album, it's very upbeat.
Reg makes a very hammy speech about peace - LOL.
Kanya King - the founder of the MOBOs - comes out to talk a little about the awards. God she's beautiful. I don't know how old she is, but if she thought up the MOBOs 15 years ago she's got to be more than 19, which is about how old she looks. Her dress is gorgeous too, white with slightly puffed sleeves and flapper-type fringe.
Tinchy Stryder closes the show. He's looking casual and good, and reminds me of Oli more than ever. I quite like this song (Second Chance) and am glad that he and Taio Cruz are collaborating again. Taio isn't onstage, but he's singing on the monitor behind. Tinch then sings something else - I'm not sure what - and is joined by Giggs, Professor Green and Devlin. What a great quartet! Oh, there's Tinie too - so a quintet. Nice way to close the show.
All in all, it was a great show. I'm sorry I couldn't be there in person - health probs got in the way, so Cam took his brother and sister (thank God they could get a third ticket last minute!) - especially since BBC1 only showed half the show. The bits they cut out were Best African Act, Best Reggae, Best Jazz, Best Gospel, Best UK R&B / Soul, Best International and BeMOBO (I don't know what that is). I particularly missed the Best Reggae, because I hear Gyptian won - I love him. That said, it was nice to watch from the comfort of my couch and blog to you from my bed rather than the car!
Hope you enjoyed, and you can always catch the show on BBC iPlayer.
Wednesday 20 October 2010
Men, Money And Measly Ear Infections
I haven't posted much recently, as you can see. Two, maybe two and a half weeks ago I got struck down by an appalling ear infection, much to my horror. I used to get ear infections a lot, and actually had to have operations on them to clear stuff out a couple times, but I haven't had one since my brother's wedding two or three summers ago, and I'd stupidly thought that maybe that was a good omen, and I wouldn't get them anymore. No luck - although I suppose you could consider me lucky for having a break for a few years, I dunno. Anyway, they're excruciatingly painful, so painful that I find it very difficult to walk or talk or eat or move my jaw at all.
So I spent a lot of time in bed with a cold soda can propped against my ear and throat, since cold and lying down eased up the pressure a bit. When I stood up or even sat on the couch, the blood started pounding and made it even worse. Therefore my bed got very well-used over the last two weeks, and not in the way I'd prefer. *sigh* Stupidly, there wasn't much I could do beyond lie there and try to sleep. I even found it hard to concentrate on reading, although I got a couple of books from the Oxfam bookstore - a Karen Robards romantic suspense, and something by Chuck Palahniuk that I haven't read yet - so that was something. The Karen Robards wasn't her best, but was still entertaining enough to actually take my mind off my ear for a couple of minutes at a time.
Happily it seems to be nearly better, although it's a bit itchy, and I sometimes wake myself up by scratching it in my sleep.
Not last Thursday, but the Thursday before that, I went to the doctor early in the morning (well, 10.40, which is early for me - I'm a night owl) and got antibiotics and eardrops. The doctors is at the beginning of town, so Mom and I walked to the chemist to fill the prescription, and then into town to go to Tesco and buy some groceries, and we stopped in the Oxfam bookshop, and that's where I met this incredibly interesting guy.
I can't explain what it was about him - all I can really say is that he was magnetic. He was average height, good-looking but not traffic-stopping, had average reddish-brown hair, average casual clothes, and was not my usual type. And yet he was anything but average. He was reading a cyberpunk novel, and there was something slightly cyberpunkish about him, although I'm damned if I know what it was. In some ways, he reminded me a little of Julian, although once again I can't pinpoint what it was. But the way he talked...oh man, that was amazing. He seemed incredibly intelligent - and you know what a turn-on intelligence is for me - and we talked about what seemed to be hundreds of things, although in reality it could only have been a handful. A couple of the books I was buying - not the romance, but the Palahniuk, and John Gribbin's "In Search of Schroedinger's Cat" caused him to say, "I didn't see that! If I'd seen it, I'd have had it." I actually surrendered the John Gribbin to him, since I'm a nice person, and when I went back today it wasn't there, so I guess he did buy it.
He even tried, unsuccessfully, to explain Schroedinger's Cat to my mom. Mom is a fairly practical person, though, and her response was to look a bit blank and say, "I'm pretty sure a live cat would create a fuss if you tried to lock it in a box, so you'd know by the noise and movement that it was alive."
:D
So yeah, I have a bit of a crush. Knowing my luck, he's probably gay, or at least taken, but he sure did give good conversation. I've been back to the shop a couple of times since then, but he's never been there. He told me he was a volunteer, so I'm gonna try again on Thursday morning, in the hopes that he always works the same hours. Even if he is gay or taken, I'd like to talk to him again, and see if I can work out why there's this magnetic pull between us (or at least on my side). Happily I was actually looking pretty good that day, despite my ear infection. It was a beautiful sunny morning, dry and warm, and I was wearing my white cotton halterneck sundress with the red flowers down the front, which is my favourite dress. It's really made for use on the hottest of hot summer days, because it's just a single thin layer of cotton (and quite diaphanous, so I have to remember to wear white or nude panties with it), reaches to my waist in the back, low cut over the boobs with a tie around the neck, ruching under the breasts to make your waist look smaller, and a huge billowy skirt. It was cream when I got it, but even though that was only in July, I've worn it so much that it's faded to white, and I can barely read the care label. Over the breasts and then in a wide stripe down the front are a profusion of flowers, mostly red, with occasional bits of pink and dark blue and green. It's a beautiful dress, and even though I can't wear a bra with it it suits me well - it skims over the bad parts and accentuates the good parts - so I should really try and get a photo of me in it before the weather gets cold for the winter. So I was wearing that, and a little dusky rose cardigan from Hobbs that I got in the seconds sale because it had a tiny hole at the back, and white sandals with flowers on them, and my hair was caught back loosely in a clip with curls hanging down, and I had on that magnet perfume that guys always react to. So I was looking and smelling good, and I think - I think - that he was attracted to me, although I could just be deluding myself.
I do hope I get to see him again.
[Like this, but pulled up a lot at the neck, so my breasts look firm and round and I don't show a lot of cleavage. My neck really hurt when I took this picture, so I let the halter out about four inches. Different cardi, too.]
Anyway, that was two Thursdays ago, and after that I went home and went to bed for a week, only getting up to bathe and occasionally watch TV in the evenings. Then for the rest of last week I was frantically trying to get any outstanding work out of the way so I could prepare for uni, which was supposed to start last Wednesday. Except on Wednesday I got an email from admissions saying that the course had been cancelled due to not enough people enrolled. So I don't know what the heck I'm going to do for the next nine months. Travel, maybe. I'm too sick to go right now, and I'm also too sick to work full-time, but maybe after Christmas I can pack my things and go visiting people in various countries of the world. I've always wanted to travel, but I never have the time or the money, and there's always something that I have to do at home, either work or uni or looking after Mom. Perhaps this would be a good time to get away, while I have a non-college year and Tony's still around to help look after Mom. (They're hoping to move to the south coast next Spring.)
If not travel, then I have to find something to keep me occupied, some sort of course that will give my weeks a schedule, even if it's just one day a week. I found several short courses that I want to do, things that run for a few weeks - Thai cooking, Chinese cooking, a really nice looking desserts class, a couple of courses on Christmas crafts and Christmas flower arrangements - but nothing that will continue for a whole semester, let alone a year. I suppose I really need to set my mind to it, and look around for something, because the fall semester is definitely under way, although there are a couple of things that don't start until the end of October. Problem is, I don't know what to do if I don't do Japanese. Spanish, maybe. Mom suggested Italian, but you can't really use Italian outside Italy, unless you're considering a career in music or the arts. Spanish would be more practical, particularly for someone who's considering living in California or Texas, and although I used to be fluent, I lost a lot of it when I lost my memory. If I get a good class, it should take me a year, maybe a year and a half to get back up to fluency. But I don't know what level I'm at right now - probably pre-GCSE - so I don't know exactly what course I would need.
I suppose I could look around at different universities for another Japanese course, but I really like my teacher and my uni. Perhaps they'll run the course in the spring semester, and then I'll only miss out on half a year.
But damn, I miss uni. And I REALLY miss Kurisu-san (that's my redheaded musician, the one I wrote about a couple times back in May). We talked once on msn, but since then he hasn't appeared on there - I dunno if he's blocking me, or if he just doesn't have internet access, or doesn't get online.
So I had a pretty crappy week with the ear, and the week since then has been split into crappy and nice. I went into town a couple of times and didn't manage to get any of the things I needed done. Ann Summers had a great sale, and I bought some really lovely underwear, but when I went back with Mom so she could buy me some corsets and negligees for Christmas, they'd just finished the sale the night before. What kind of store puts a sale on for only a week, honestly? It's the most ridiculous thing. And Jane Norman had done the same thing, and they had some lovely dresses in there that I was coveting. My friend Zia, who's been suffering from clinical depression for as long as I've known her (which is coming up nine years), was dumped by her boyfriend on Saturday and fell into a suicidal depression which worried me a great deal, and I went to visit her yesterday, all the way in Upton Park, after an already gruelling day of visiting my father and stepmother in Highgate. I'll write more about that day in my next note, since there's too much to write here. It was good to see her, but I'm very concerned - even scared - and she needs a great deal of support right now. On Sunday I went ice skating with B, one of my closest high school friends, and we usually have a great time, but neither of us could really get into it: the ice was cut up and nobbly, making it hard to skate (for some reason they didn't smooth it down every hour the way they usually do) and she'd been having man trouble, so she wanted to talk more than skate, and while we both would have benefited from the physical activity, the ice was just too cut up and crowded to get any decent exercise in.
Which reminds me, I need new ice skates, mine are just a tiny bit too small and give me foot cramps. It will hurt to see them go, because I've had them since I was about 13, and they've seen me through a lot. I've always kept them in really good condition, so I should be able to sell them on ebay, which will help with the price of new ones. But it'll still be a big expense - figure skates are really dear over here, and for a good beginners pair I could pay anywhere from £60 to £130, although I doubt I'd find them any cheaper than that unless I bought second-hand. If I'm lucky I can sell mine for maybe £30, and then either buy a pair of £60 ones, or get them for Christmas.
*sigh* Yet another major expense. I still haven't bought that coat - although I did go and try the blue one on again, and it looked kind of weird - and I really need to, because the weather's rapidly getting cold. We're supposed to have a freezing snap in the next week, same as last year, which is really a bugger - I hate it when it gets cold and snowy before Halloween. Halloween should be warm enough to go trick-or-treating and not be covered up in winter coats. I love winter and snow, love wearing my coats and boots and hats with matching scarves and gloves, but not until late November. Coat and hat weather should start at Thanksgiving.
And of course, I need a haircut - argh! I got paid today, or maybe it's tomorrow, and nearly every penny is already accounted for. I bought a couple of books today - Charlaine Harris' "Grave Secret" (in hardback, which was expensive, but they didn't have it in paperback) from Waterstones, and a Mills & Boon book and Hawthorne's "Rappaccini's Daughter" from the charity shop. And I got some bubble bath from The Body Shop, because I've developed allergies to so many of the branded ones, and a couple of groceries, and a sandwich and a cup of hot chocolate from Costa - seven freakin' quid for a hot chocolate and a sandwich! I'm not going in there again - and Ne-Yo's first two CDs (which I'd been wanting for a couple years, and I never managed to find them for less than £15 each, and today HMV had them 2 for £10 - and that was it. I spent £10 on the CDs, £16 in The Body Shop on bubble bath and a Christmas present, £7 on lunch, £18 on books (which I can't do again for several months now, although when Grave Secret comes out in paperback I can sell the hardback) and about £10 on groceries - about £60, and the rest of this month's money goes on bills. I can just about pay my bills, but I'm flat broke as far as anything else goes.
Friends ask me how it is that I have so many problems with money when I don't actually spend a lot on myself - my girlfriends spend as much on beauty products and pampering in a month as I spend on everything else - and when I did the mental math today, I found out why: taking into account my base salary (although not any extra jobs I pick up) and my carer's allowance and Mom's attendance allowance and statutory sick pay, I am running a household on an average of £8500 a year. For the record, that's about $15,000. I don't know if it's possible to support a family on $15,000 a year in America, but over here it's a huge struggle. B is a nurse, and you know how poorly nurses get paid, and she still makes £18,000 a year - more than twice what Mom and I make combined, when Mom's not working.
So. Fucking. Tired.
I get that there are plenty of carers out there, and it's not easy for any of us - but most carers get some sort of support, from family or doctors or community support workers, and most carers aren't sick themselves. In a world that works the way it's supposed to, if I listened to my doctor, I should be the one HAVING a carer who comes in to look after me - not being one myself.
But I am, and I don't have anyone who can look after me - except Mom - and the government won't help, so I just kind of have to get on with it. It's especially hard when I've just had an infection, though, because with an auto-immune disorder like fibromyalgia / ME, every time I get any sort of infection it takes a couple of weeks, even a month, for my immune system to calm down. (At least somewhat - it never calms down to a normal state.)
A couple of people, including my brother, have said that I should try and come off the medications and find more natural ways of dealing with it, but the natural ways don't generally work for me. I've tried so many things, and the only natural things that really help are massage and a hot climate, neither of which I can afford. As things are, when the doctor put me on a lower dose of tramadol - and I was on the lower dosage for more than two years, so I know my body had time to get used to it - I was in so much pain I could barely concentrate on anything. I was lucky to get three or four hours of sleep a night, before I was awakened in agony. And even now that the dosages have been put back up to the right place, if I miss a pill it often causes so much pain that I black out.
Shit, I wish I were in the US where you have proper drugs for stuff like this.
Ugh, enough whining. My whines always go the same way - money, not having any money, not having any money because I'm too sick to work full-time, health. Enough already! Truth was, parts of my week were good, if a little depressing. My father and stepmother are moving next week, so that's kind of sad - I can't imagine London without my PaPa, and I'm really going to miss their house. That was the place I came home from college to. I fell in love for the second (and seemingly permanent) time when I was in my bathroom there, when I was seventeen, when Curt texted me to ask me to the Valentines Dance. Come to think of it, I fell in love for the first time in that house, too, when I fell for Michael three days after my birthday, the night that PaPa and Jackie took me to see Saturday Night Fever. Was that my fifteenth birthday or my sixteenth? I can't quite remember, although I think it must have been my fifteenth.
So yeah, there are a lot of good memories in that house. I'll miss the Curt-memories more than anything, I think, because most of our early good times were when I was living there. We were kids when I fell for him, so innocent and naive, never imagining that life could work out to be anything less than wonderful. We never worried about getting together as a couple, because we thought we had all the time in the world. Zia's first suicide attempt the following summer was the first thing to change that, the first layer of that frost that gradually built up and iced over his heart, and he's been building walls for one reason or another ever since. But the fall and the winter before that? We were happy children, and he was experiencing the freedom of college for the first time (he went to a rather restrictive private school), and I was experiencing true love for the first time, and we were so full of joy.
I think I'll miss those memories as much as I'll miss anything. I'll still see my dad and stepmother, of course. I may even see them as much as I see them now; for all that they've only been twenty miles away from me while they were living in London, I haven't been to see them as much as I should have. Between the rape and PaPa's stroke, I didn't spend much time in London, and what time I did spend was always escorted: I'd visit PaPa or Curt, and they'd be with me most if not all of the time, and they'd pick me up and / or drop me off at home, and I'd spend very little alone time. If I went into work, I'd only have to change trains quickly at Blackfriars, and that was the only part of the city I'd see until I was in Dagenham. But when PaPa had his stroke, I was going to the city once a week, sometimes more, and I started having a lot of nightmares. So after he was out of the hospital, my visits got less and less frequent. And the worst thing was that I could never tell him why I wasn't visiting, because I never told him about the rape.
*sigh*
I seem to be doing a lot of sighing at the moment. *rolls eyes*
But it was nice to see them, and Lucy - my youngest sister - was there for lunch, which was also good. Now that Amy (my middle-down sister) has gone to uni, Lucy is sort of coming into her own, discovering her own likes and dislikes instead of following in the older one's footsteps. Over the summer she discovered a love for science and psychology - and this is a girl who was raised to sneer at modern things like science and technology, and put all her energy into Latin and Greek and Classic Literature and History, you know all those good upper-class English girl things - and it was really nice to see her animated about something. Amy is reading Classics at Oxford, becoming a mini version of her mother, and it's really nice to see Lu breaking out of the box a bit. She was even talking about going to uni in the States rather than at Oxford, which must have appalled her mother. Whether she does so all the way, or ends up at Oxford doing History and Latin, remains to be seen. She was always the more stubborn of the two though, always knew her own mind well, so perhaps she'll fight for what she wants. That would be a sight to see.
OK, this blog has got FAR too long - I try to keep them to a length that won't bore the pants off too many readers, but I've failed miserably this time - so I shall let you go. I need to get some sleep soon anyway, it's getting late (or early) and I need food and then sleepies.
Hope y'all have been well while I was away, and I'll try and catch up with reading your blogs soon!
Update: What the snacks? They denied this post because apparently it has my email on it...I read the whole thing, and NOWHERE does it give any email addresses.
So I spent a lot of time in bed with a cold soda can propped against my ear and throat, since cold and lying down eased up the pressure a bit. When I stood up or even sat on the couch, the blood started pounding and made it even worse. Therefore my bed got very well-used over the last two weeks, and not in the way I'd prefer. *sigh* Stupidly, there wasn't much I could do beyond lie there and try to sleep. I even found it hard to concentrate on reading, although I got a couple of books from the Oxfam bookstore - a Karen Robards romantic suspense, and something by Chuck Palahniuk that I haven't read yet - so that was something. The Karen Robards wasn't her best, but was still entertaining enough to actually take my mind off my ear for a couple of minutes at a time.
Happily it seems to be nearly better, although it's a bit itchy, and I sometimes wake myself up by scratching it in my sleep.
Not last Thursday, but the Thursday before that, I went to the doctor early in the morning (well, 10.40, which is early for me - I'm a night owl) and got antibiotics and eardrops. The doctors is at the beginning of town, so Mom and I walked to the chemist to fill the prescription, and then into town to go to Tesco and buy some groceries, and we stopped in the Oxfam bookshop, and that's where I met this incredibly interesting guy.
I can't explain what it was about him - all I can really say is that he was magnetic. He was average height, good-looking but not traffic-stopping, had average reddish-brown hair, average casual clothes, and was not my usual type. And yet he was anything but average. He was reading a cyberpunk novel, and there was something slightly cyberpunkish about him, although I'm damned if I know what it was. In some ways, he reminded me a little of Julian, although once again I can't pinpoint what it was. But the way he talked...oh man, that was amazing. He seemed incredibly intelligent - and you know what a turn-on intelligence is for me - and we talked about what seemed to be hundreds of things, although in reality it could only have been a handful. A couple of the books I was buying - not the romance, but the Palahniuk, and John Gribbin's "In Search of Schroedinger's Cat" caused him to say, "I didn't see that! If I'd seen it, I'd have had it." I actually surrendered the John Gribbin to him, since I'm a nice person, and when I went back today it wasn't there, so I guess he did buy it.
He even tried, unsuccessfully, to explain Schroedinger's Cat to my mom. Mom is a fairly practical person, though, and her response was to look a bit blank and say, "I'm pretty sure a live cat would create a fuss if you tried to lock it in a box, so you'd know by the noise and movement that it was alive."
:D
So yeah, I have a bit of a crush. Knowing my luck, he's probably gay, or at least taken, but he sure did give good conversation. I've been back to the shop a couple of times since then, but he's never been there. He told me he was a volunteer, so I'm gonna try again on Thursday morning, in the hopes that he always works the same hours. Even if he is gay or taken, I'd like to talk to him again, and see if I can work out why there's this magnetic pull between us (or at least on my side). Happily I was actually looking pretty good that day, despite my ear infection. It was a beautiful sunny morning, dry and warm, and I was wearing my white cotton halterneck sundress with the red flowers down the front, which is my favourite dress. It's really made for use on the hottest of hot summer days, because it's just a single thin layer of cotton (and quite diaphanous, so I have to remember to wear white or nude panties with it), reaches to my waist in the back, low cut over the boobs with a tie around the neck, ruching under the breasts to make your waist look smaller, and a huge billowy skirt. It was cream when I got it, but even though that was only in July, I've worn it so much that it's faded to white, and I can barely read the care label. Over the breasts and then in a wide stripe down the front are a profusion of flowers, mostly red, with occasional bits of pink and dark blue and green. It's a beautiful dress, and even though I can't wear a bra with it it suits me well - it skims over the bad parts and accentuates the good parts - so I should really try and get a photo of me in it before the weather gets cold for the winter. So I was wearing that, and a little dusky rose cardigan from Hobbs that I got in the seconds sale because it had a tiny hole at the back, and white sandals with flowers on them, and my hair was caught back loosely in a clip with curls hanging down, and I had on that magnet perfume that guys always react to. So I was looking and smelling good, and I think - I think - that he was attracted to me, although I could just be deluding myself.
I do hope I get to see him again.
[Like this, but pulled up a lot at the neck, so my breasts look firm and round and I don't show a lot of cleavage. My neck really hurt when I took this picture, so I let the halter out about four inches. Different cardi, too.]
Anyway, that was two Thursdays ago, and after that I went home and went to bed for a week, only getting up to bathe and occasionally watch TV in the evenings. Then for the rest of last week I was frantically trying to get any outstanding work out of the way so I could prepare for uni, which was supposed to start last Wednesday. Except on Wednesday I got an email from admissions saying that the course had been cancelled due to not enough people enrolled. So I don't know what the heck I'm going to do for the next nine months. Travel, maybe. I'm too sick to go right now, and I'm also too sick to work full-time, but maybe after Christmas I can pack my things and go visiting people in various countries of the world. I've always wanted to travel, but I never have the time or the money, and there's always something that I have to do at home, either work or uni or looking after Mom. Perhaps this would be a good time to get away, while I have a non-college year and Tony's still around to help look after Mom. (They're hoping to move to the south coast next Spring.)
If not travel, then I have to find something to keep me occupied, some sort of course that will give my weeks a schedule, even if it's just one day a week. I found several short courses that I want to do, things that run for a few weeks - Thai cooking, Chinese cooking, a really nice looking desserts class, a couple of courses on Christmas crafts and Christmas flower arrangements - but nothing that will continue for a whole semester, let alone a year. I suppose I really need to set my mind to it, and look around for something, because the fall semester is definitely under way, although there are a couple of things that don't start until the end of October. Problem is, I don't know what to do if I don't do Japanese. Spanish, maybe. Mom suggested Italian, but you can't really use Italian outside Italy, unless you're considering a career in music or the arts. Spanish would be more practical, particularly for someone who's considering living in California or Texas, and although I used to be fluent, I lost a lot of it when I lost my memory. If I get a good class, it should take me a year, maybe a year and a half to get back up to fluency. But I don't know what level I'm at right now - probably pre-GCSE - so I don't know exactly what course I would need.
I suppose I could look around at different universities for another Japanese course, but I really like my teacher and my uni. Perhaps they'll run the course in the spring semester, and then I'll only miss out on half a year.
But damn, I miss uni. And I REALLY miss Kurisu-san (that's my redheaded musician, the one I wrote about a couple times back in May). We talked once on msn, but since then he hasn't appeared on there - I dunno if he's blocking me, or if he just doesn't have internet access, or doesn't get online.
So I had a pretty crappy week with the ear, and the week since then has been split into crappy and nice. I went into town a couple of times and didn't manage to get any of the things I needed done. Ann Summers had a great sale, and I bought some really lovely underwear, but when I went back with Mom so she could buy me some corsets and negligees for Christmas, they'd just finished the sale the night before. What kind of store puts a sale on for only a week, honestly? It's the most ridiculous thing. And Jane Norman had done the same thing, and they had some lovely dresses in there that I was coveting. My friend Zia, who's been suffering from clinical depression for as long as I've known her (which is coming up nine years), was dumped by her boyfriend on Saturday and fell into a suicidal depression which worried me a great deal, and I went to visit her yesterday, all the way in Upton Park, after an already gruelling day of visiting my father and stepmother in Highgate. I'll write more about that day in my next note, since there's too much to write here. It was good to see her, but I'm very concerned - even scared - and she needs a great deal of support right now. On Sunday I went ice skating with B, one of my closest high school friends, and we usually have a great time, but neither of us could really get into it: the ice was cut up and nobbly, making it hard to skate (for some reason they didn't smooth it down every hour the way they usually do) and she'd been having man trouble, so she wanted to talk more than skate, and while we both would have benefited from the physical activity, the ice was just too cut up and crowded to get any decent exercise in.
Which reminds me, I need new ice skates, mine are just a tiny bit too small and give me foot cramps. It will hurt to see them go, because I've had them since I was about 13, and they've seen me through a lot. I've always kept them in really good condition, so I should be able to sell them on ebay, which will help with the price of new ones. But it'll still be a big expense - figure skates are really dear over here, and for a good beginners pair I could pay anywhere from £60 to £130, although I doubt I'd find them any cheaper than that unless I bought second-hand. If I'm lucky I can sell mine for maybe £30, and then either buy a pair of £60 ones, or get them for Christmas.
*sigh* Yet another major expense. I still haven't bought that coat - although I did go and try the blue one on again, and it looked kind of weird - and I really need to, because the weather's rapidly getting cold. We're supposed to have a freezing snap in the next week, same as last year, which is really a bugger - I hate it when it gets cold and snowy before Halloween. Halloween should be warm enough to go trick-or-treating and not be covered up in winter coats. I love winter and snow, love wearing my coats and boots and hats with matching scarves and gloves, but not until late November. Coat and hat weather should start at Thanksgiving.
And of course, I need a haircut - argh! I got paid today, or maybe it's tomorrow, and nearly every penny is already accounted for. I bought a couple of books today - Charlaine Harris' "Grave Secret" (in hardback, which was expensive, but they didn't have it in paperback) from Waterstones, and a Mills & Boon book and Hawthorne's "Rappaccini's Daughter" from the charity shop. And I got some bubble bath from The Body Shop, because I've developed allergies to so many of the branded ones, and a couple of groceries, and a sandwich and a cup of hot chocolate from Costa - seven freakin' quid for a hot chocolate and a sandwich! I'm not going in there again - and Ne-Yo's first two CDs (which I'd been wanting for a couple years, and I never managed to find them for less than £15 each, and today HMV had them 2 for £10 - and that was it. I spent £10 on the CDs, £16 in The Body Shop on bubble bath and a Christmas present, £7 on lunch, £18 on books (which I can't do again for several months now, although when Grave Secret comes out in paperback I can sell the hardback) and about £10 on groceries - about £60, and the rest of this month's money goes on bills. I can just about pay my bills, but I'm flat broke as far as anything else goes.
Friends ask me how it is that I have so many problems with money when I don't actually spend a lot on myself - my girlfriends spend as much on beauty products and pampering in a month as I spend on everything else - and when I did the mental math today, I found out why: taking into account my base salary (although not any extra jobs I pick up) and my carer's allowance and Mom's attendance allowance and statutory sick pay, I am running a household on an average of £8500 a year. For the record, that's about $15,000. I don't know if it's possible to support a family on $15,000 a year in America, but over here it's a huge struggle. B is a nurse, and you know how poorly nurses get paid, and she still makes £18,000 a year - more than twice what Mom and I make combined, when Mom's not working.
So. Fucking. Tired.
I get that there are plenty of carers out there, and it's not easy for any of us - but most carers get some sort of support, from family or doctors or community support workers, and most carers aren't sick themselves. In a world that works the way it's supposed to, if I listened to my doctor, I should be the one HAVING a carer who comes in to look after me - not being one myself.
But I am, and I don't have anyone who can look after me - except Mom - and the government won't help, so I just kind of have to get on with it. It's especially hard when I've just had an infection, though, because with an auto-immune disorder like fibromyalgia / ME, every time I get any sort of infection it takes a couple of weeks, even a month, for my immune system to calm down. (At least somewhat - it never calms down to a normal state.)
A couple of people, including my brother, have said that I should try and come off the medications and find more natural ways of dealing with it, but the natural ways don't generally work for me. I've tried so many things, and the only natural things that really help are massage and a hot climate, neither of which I can afford. As things are, when the doctor put me on a lower dose of tramadol - and I was on the lower dosage for more than two years, so I know my body had time to get used to it - I was in so much pain I could barely concentrate on anything. I was lucky to get three or four hours of sleep a night, before I was awakened in agony. And even now that the dosages have been put back up to the right place, if I miss a pill it often causes so much pain that I black out.
Shit, I wish I were in the US where you have proper drugs for stuff like this.
Ugh, enough whining. My whines always go the same way - money, not having any money, not having any money because I'm too sick to work full-time, health. Enough already! Truth was, parts of my week were good, if a little depressing. My father and stepmother are moving next week, so that's kind of sad - I can't imagine London without my PaPa, and I'm really going to miss their house. That was the place I came home from college to. I fell in love for the second (and seemingly permanent) time when I was in my bathroom there, when I was seventeen, when Curt texted me to ask me to the Valentines Dance. Come to think of it, I fell in love for the first time in that house, too, when I fell for Michael three days after my birthday, the night that PaPa and Jackie took me to see Saturday Night Fever. Was that my fifteenth birthday or my sixteenth? I can't quite remember, although I think it must have been my fifteenth.
So yeah, there are a lot of good memories in that house. I'll miss the Curt-memories more than anything, I think, because most of our early good times were when I was living there. We were kids when I fell for him, so innocent and naive, never imagining that life could work out to be anything less than wonderful. We never worried about getting together as a couple, because we thought we had all the time in the world. Zia's first suicide attempt the following summer was the first thing to change that, the first layer of that frost that gradually built up and iced over his heart, and he's been building walls for one reason or another ever since. But the fall and the winter before that? We were happy children, and he was experiencing the freedom of college for the first time (he went to a rather restrictive private school), and I was experiencing true love for the first time, and we were so full of joy.
I think I'll miss those memories as much as I'll miss anything. I'll still see my dad and stepmother, of course. I may even see them as much as I see them now; for all that they've only been twenty miles away from me while they were living in London, I haven't been to see them as much as I should have. Between the rape and PaPa's stroke, I didn't spend much time in London, and what time I did spend was always escorted: I'd visit PaPa or Curt, and they'd be with me most if not all of the time, and they'd pick me up and / or drop me off at home, and I'd spend very little alone time. If I went into work, I'd only have to change trains quickly at Blackfriars, and that was the only part of the city I'd see until I was in Dagenham. But when PaPa had his stroke, I was going to the city once a week, sometimes more, and I started having a lot of nightmares. So after he was out of the hospital, my visits got less and less frequent. And the worst thing was that I could never tell him why I wasn't visiting, because I never told him about the rape.
*sigh*
I seem to be doing a lot of sighing at the moment. *rolls eyes*
But it was nice to see them, and Lucy - my youngest sister - was there for lunch, which was also good. Now that Amy (my middle-down sister) has gone to uni, Lucy is sort of coming into her own, discovering her own likes and dislikes instead of following in the older one's footsteps. Over the summer she discovered a love for science and psychology - and this is a girl who was raised to sneer at modern things like science and technology, and put all her energy into Latin and Greek and Classic Literature and History, you know all those good upper-class English girl things - and it was really nice to see her animated about something. Amy is reading Classics at Oxford, becoming a mini version of her mother, and it's really nice to see Lu breaking out of the box a bit. She was even talking about going to uni in the States rather than at Oxford, which must have appalled her mother. Whether she does so all the way, or ends up at Oxford doing History and Latin, remains to be seen. She was always the more stubborn of the two though, always knew her own mind well, so perhaps she'll fight for what she wants. That would be a sight to see.
OK, this blog has got FAR too long - I try to keep them to a length that won't bore the pants off too many readers, but I've failed miserably this time - so I shall let you go. I need to get some sleep soon anyway, it's getting late (or early) and I need food and then sleepies.
Hope y'all have been well while I was away, and I'll try and catch up with reading your blogs soon!
Update: What the snacks? They denied this post because apparently it has my email on it...I read the whole thing, and NOWHERE does it give any email addresses.
Monday 18 October 2010
45 Life Lessons (Not Mine)
I don't usually forward stuff like this - I get tons of them every week, and most of them drive me crazy with their pseudoprofundities, but I actually did like this one. I highlighted the bits I liked the best.
Written by a 90 year old:
This is something we should all read at least once a week!
Make sure you read to the end!
Written by Regina Brett, 90 years old, of the Plain Dealer, Cleveland, Ohio .
"To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 45 lessons life taught me. It is the most requested column I've ever written.
My odometer rolled over to 90 in August, so here is the column once more:
1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.
2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.
3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.
4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.
5. Pay off your credit cards every month.
6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.
8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.
9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.
10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.
11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.
12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.
13. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.
15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.
16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.
17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.
18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.
19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.
20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.
21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.
22. Over prepare, then go with the flow.
23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.
24. The most important sex organ is the brain.
25. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.
26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words 'In five years, will this matter?'
27. Always choose life.
28. Forgive everyone everything.
29. What other people think of you is none of your business.
30. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.
31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
32. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
33. Believe in miracles.
34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.
35. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.
36. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.
37. Your children get only one childhood.
38. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.
39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.
40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.
41. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
42. The best is yet to come...
43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
44. Yield.
45. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift."
Written by a 90 year old:
This is something we should all read at least once a week!
Make sure you read to the end!
Written by Regina Brett, 90 years old, of the Plain Dealer, Cleveland, Ohio .
"To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 45 lessons life taught me. It is the most requested column I've ever written.
My odometer rolled over to 90 in August, so here is the column once more:
1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.
2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.
3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.
4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.
5. Pay off your credit cards every month.
6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.
8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.
9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.
10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.
11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.
12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.
13. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.
15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.
16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.
17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.
18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.
19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.
20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.
21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.
22. Over prepare, then go with the flow.
23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.
24. The most important sex organ is the brain.
25. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.
26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words 'In five years, will this matter?'
27. Always choose life.
28. Forgive everyone everything.
29. What other people think of you is none of your business.
30. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.
31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
32. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
33. Believe in miracles.
34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.
35. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.
36. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.
37. Your children get only one childhood.
38. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.
39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.
40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.
41. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
42. The best is yet to come...
43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
44. Yield.
45. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift."
Tuesday 5 October 2010
Exhaustion - And Not The Nice Sweaty Sexually Sated Kind
WTF, A.F.F. keeps screwing with my blog settings. One day I'm watching a blog, then it's deleted, then I'm watching again. A little while ago, my whole watch list was deleted. Luckily I could recreate most of it from the pimping post I made last week, although not the blogs I've added since. Anyone else experiencing this glitch?
I called the uni today, and classes start the week of the 12th. The woman I spoke to said there are still places on my course, so get my form in before Thursday. I've filled it in and will mail it tomorrow.
See, I can be pro-active. Sometimes.
I still haven't organised my underwear cabinet, though. Or, god forbid, cleaned out my closet. It makes me exhausted just thinking about it.
To be honest, I don't even really have the energy to blog. I've been doing this thing on facebook, called a 30-Day Meme, where you have a different question to write a post on every day for a month. I'm mainly doing it because my friend asked me to, and I've managed for four days, but tomorrow's post (today's, really, or at least when I wake up it will be) is about my definition of love. I reeeeally don't like that topic, and don't know how well I can write on it. What the hell do I know about love?
I'm not sure why I couldn't sleep tonight, because I came upstairs all mellow and sleepy, thinking I'd put my head on my pillow and not know anything until aches and pains woke me in the morning. But no, I've been awake the whole time, and now it's nearly six and I'm just starting to get sleepy - at the same time as I start to get a stomachache. I don't know if it's a hungry stomachache or an over-full stomachache. Hard to know, with me.
I think that once I get my room cleaned and tidied, and get the college stuff sorted out, I may have to just rest and hide away from the world for a couple weeks, try and get some of my energy back. I need to stop worrying about all the things that I haven't done - nobody is going to die if I don't get my bedroom painted, or the shelves fixed, or the closet cleaned out. Nobody is dying, and the rest is just details. I worry about Mom, though, and I feel guilty. She's sicker than I am, in more pain than I am, and she still manages to do what needs to be done. I don't know why I can't seem to get it together. I'm used to pain, I'm used to tiredness, and I usually manage to get my ass in gear when it's needed, so what the hell is different now?
Maybe I need vitamins. I'll try and remember to buy some of those tomorrow. And ACTUALLY TAKE THEM.
Anyway, I suppose it's time for the next load of meds, and then I need to think about sleeping. I'm sorry all these posts have been depressing lately, it's just this terrible fatigue, it's really getting to me and I can't seem to find anything interesting to write about. I'm really enjoying reading new blogs, though, so that's an upside.
I called the uni today, and classes start the week of the 12th. The woman I spoke to said there are still places on my course, so get my form in before Thursday. I've filled it in and will mail it tomorrow.
See, I can be pro-active. Sometimes.
I still haven't organised my underwear cabinet, though. Or, god forbid, cleaned out my closet. It makes me exhausted just thinking about it.
To be honest, I don't even really have the energy to blog. I've been doing this thing on facebook, called a 30-Day Meme, where you have a different question to write a post on every day for a month. I'm mainly doing it because my friend asked me to, and I've managed for four days, but tomorrow's post (today's, really, or at least when I wake up it will be) is about my definition of love. I reeeeally don't like that topic, and don't know how well I can write on it. What the hell do I know about love?
I'm not sure why I couldn't sleep tonight, because I came upstairs all mellow and sleepy, thinking I'd put my head on my pillow and not know anything until aches and pains woke me in the morning. But no, I've been awake the whole time, and now it's nearly six and I'm just starting to get sleepy - at the same time as I start to get a stomachache. I don't know if it's a hungry stomachache or an over-full stomachache. Hard to know, with me.
I think that once I get my room cleaned and tidied, and get the college stuff sorted out, I may have to just rest and hide away from the world for a couple weeks, try and get some of my energy back. I need to stop worrying about all the things that I haven't done - nobody is going to die if I don't get my bedroom painted, or the shelves fixed, or the closet cleaned out. Nobody is dying, and the rest is just details. I worry about Mom, though, and I feel guilty. She's sicker than I am, in more pain than I am, and she still manages to do what needs to be done. I don't know why I can't seem to get it together. I'm used to pain, I'm used to tiredness, and I usually manage to get my ass in gear when it's needed, so what the hell is different now?
Maybe I need vitamins. I'll try and remember to buy some of those tomorrow. And ACTUALLY TAKE THEM.
Anyway, I suppose it's time for the next load of meds, and then I need to think about sleeping. I'm sorry all these posts have been depressing lately, it's just this terrible fatigue, it's really getting to me and I can't seem to find anything interesting to write about. I'm really enjoying reading new blogs, though, so that's an upside.
What I Ate Today
Meme Day 4 (October 4th) - What I Ate Today
(This note was edited several times as one thing or another kept interfering with my plans, LOL.)
Breakfast:
4 Jacobs cream crackers
1 banana
1 glass Welch's white grape & peach juice
Lunch:
1 Mediterranean Tomato Slim-A-Soup
1 Amore strawberry yoghurt
Dinner:
2 pieces Birds Eye Crispy Chicken (I've been ordered to protein-load)
1 bowl rice
3 pieces garlic bread
(Should have been veggies in here, but they went off!)
Plus water all day.
Now, aren't you glad you just wasted 90 seconds of your life reading this note?
Day 01 - Introduce yourself
Day 02 – Your first love
Day 03 – Your parents
Day 04 – What you ate today
Day 05 – Your definition of love
Day 06 – Your day
Day 07 – Your best friend
Day 08 – A moment
Day 09 – Your beliefs
Day 10 – What you wore today
Day 11 – Your siblings
Day 12 – What’s in your bag
Day 13 – This week
Day 14 – What you wore today
Day 15 – Your dreams
Day 16 – Your first kiss
Day 17 – Your favorite memory
Day 18 – Your favorite birthday
Day 19 – Something you regret
Day 20 – This month
Day 21 – Another moment
Monday 4 October 2010
As Dark And Twisty As I Get - So Not Much
Sati-Marie, providing smart ass-comments since 11.05 this morning.
For some reason I've been in a strange mood today. It could be due to the fact that I'm not getting any, but I don't think it's just that. I don't know what it is, but I've been full of flippancy and smart-assery all day. In fact, at times I've even been a little bit mean, although not to people who can't take it. (Luckily I talked to my friend Ricky earlier, and he's happiest when I'm a bit of a bitch. I love having him around, at least online, because he's one of the few friends that I don't have to be nice around - he's happy to take my shit as well as dish out plenty of his own.)
It could be the weather change, or being tired and sore and cranky, or missing Oli. Or it could be the fact that I've grudgingly gone on a diet. I've put on a lot of weight in the last eighteen months, since my dad had his stroke, but mostly it's gone on slowly so I haven't noticed it so much. But in the last couple of months it's gone onto my stomach and boobs, and a little onto my back, and now none of my bras fit properly without leaving a roll of flab hanging over the side and back. I've always had a fat ass and thighs, so I'm used to that, but when it goes on my stomach and back it really pisses me off, and I know that I seriously need to lose it asap.
I'm not refusing to eat or anything, I'm just not eating anything junky, and that makes me crabby. But I'm thinking nice thoughts - cocktail dresses and designer jeans and little sweaters that show off my midriff - and every time I have a yearning for potato chips or chocolate I think of clothes, and The SBD's perfect body, and if one of those thoughts doesn't work the other does.
I am going to have to go to the doctor soon, because I'm pretty sure that part of the belly gain is due to ovarian cysts. Or at least last time I got a huge hard stomach, the way I have now, that's what caused it. Also last time I found I needed to pee all the time, and now that's happening again, and has been for six months or so.
Of course, I keep putting it off, as I put off many things to do with my health these days. If it's not making me really sick and it doesn't hurt, I tend to ignore it until it does. I know this probably isn't the healthiest way to deal with things, but hell, if I went to the doctor every time something goes wrong with my body, I might as well pitch a campbed in his office. At least once a week something happens with my health that would cause any normal, healthy person to make a trip to the doctor. And most of the time those things go away. Like, ten days ago my foot started hurting, a lot, and I thought that I had an infection, except that there was nothing to see. It just felt infected, deep inside. (I had a pain like this once, when I lived in Spain, but there wasn't much to see then either, just a slight colour change that could have been nothing, and it wasn't until the doctor cut into my foot that a whole load of crap came out. One of the most disgusting - and fascinating, to my scientist's brain - things that I ever saw.) But I didn't go to the doc, because I had nothing to show for it, and suddenly yesterday it cleared up and now - touch wood - it's just fine. And a lot of my health problems go that way.
So yeah, it's probably a mixture of the sore foot (and lack of sleep over the last ten days that's stemmed from it) and the sore teeth and the sore skin and the sore muscles, and the extra weight, and the dieting, and the weather, and everything else that has me acting like a snarky valley-girl. I'm probably making myself sound worse than I actually am - I know most of my male friends, and even my mother, are quite enjoying my sarcastic, overly cynical commentaries on people and life and television ads. But I don't much like myself when I'm this way - despite my chronic cynicism, I'm usually quite gentle and kind - and I certainly don't feel like myself. B, one of my oldest friends, says that when we were in high school I was always extremely sarcastic, and that anytime I said anything you'd have to double-check that I was being genuine...but having been blessed ( LOL ) with amnesia, I don't really remember all that much about my high school days, and what I do remember is viewed through rose-tinted glasses. I have a certain fondness for the memories that I have of those times, but I can't really relate to the person I was then.
I don't know, perhaps I just need sleep. It sounds ridiculous to say that, because I've been doing very little else lately, and still haven't found the energy to tidy my room or do my paperwork or...well, anything really. I emptied out my underwear cabinet about two weeks ago, and the lingerie has just been sitting in a huge (and gradually increasing) pile on my blanket chest. And there are books everywhere, and general junk, and DUST. I haven't cleaned in weeks. And I know I have to, I know that once the room is clean and tidy I'll be less tired and feel better emotionally...but I can't seem to find the energy to clean, or even to put the undies away.
*sigh*
In a way, I feel like I've been robbed of Autumn. I know that's a totally ridiculous feeling, as 1) we're only at the beginning of October, and 2) nobody's stolen anything from me, I'm the one who's been too lazy to get off my ass and do what needs to be done. But I just feel so shitty, and have since three weeks before Christmas last year - although it's slowly been getting worse - and I've sort of lost my ability to get happy. I don't think I'm depressed, I'm just kind of apathetic. Normally at this time of year - and for the last month and a half - I'd be full of plans and excitement, running around making chutney and gathering blackberries and taking long walks in the country every day, buying lovely clothes and excitedly poring over college prospectuses to decide what to study this year, putting together dozens of outfits from my wardrobe to find which top looks exactly right with which bottom, and which shoes or boots and handbag I should wear with them, and whether I need a scarf and hat and coat. This year I've had none of that, aside from buying a couple of items of clothing. I haven't even enrolled for uni, and I don't know if it's too late. I have to call tomorrow, although I've been saying that for the last month.
I don't know, part of me feels like I don't want to go back to uni, but that's a totally illogical feeling - I love the language, I love my teacher, I love my fellow students, I love the campus and the feeling of belonging. I love everything about my classes except for the long bus ride home at 10 at night. So why have I put off enrolling? Last year I was enrolled at the beginning of August. Surely if I really wanted to be there I'd have done the same this year? It's just this awful tiredness, it creeps over me and breeds this apathy that permeates every inch of my life. I don't want to go to class. I don't want to date. I don't want to go visit my father. I don't want to go to the gym. I don't want to see friends. I certainly don't want to clean the house - and neither does Mom, so there's huge layers of dust covering everything - or do my paperwork. All I seem to want to do is eat and sleep and read and fuck, but since Oli's gone there's nobody who interests me both mentally and physically, and food takes so much energy to prepare and unless it's high-sugar high-fat junk, I end up feeling bloated and sluggish. And I can't seem to concentrate on reading, and sleep gives me very little relief from the tiredness. I wake up and I feel worse than if I hadn't slept.
Fibromyalgia / ME / Chronic Fatigue is an extremely cruel disease, and I hope none of you ever get it.
Ehh, my intention here was to write a short post, and instead I've gone on and whinged for ages. Oh well, it's probably done me good, although I can't say the same for my dear readers. I hate whining, even here, and I always worry that people who are new to the blog will catch me on a whingy day and decide that I'm not worth reading. So here's hoping that any newbies don't judge me solely by this post - most days I feel a lot better, and write accordingly. (Although admittedly I've had a rough summer this year.)
Well, it's coming up 3.30 am, so I think I'll go grab some yoghurt - it's not chocolate, but it's pretty good - and a new syrupy-sweet Rebecca Winters book. If that doesn't cheer me up, nothing will.
Sunday 3 October 2010
Meet The Parents
Meme Day 3 (October 3rd) - My Parents
My parents never married, at least not each other, although my mother was married and separated before she met my father, and my father has married, divorced and remarried since.
My mother. Carol Louise Onan Frost, born Sandra Marie Elizabeth Henriksen, and one reason I refuse to be called Sandra. My mother is one of the strangest people I know. She's a mix of extremely laid-back (sort of an ex-hippy) and extremely overprotective. She took a unique approach to child-raising - in her defense, it was probably the only thing she could do with a kid like me - and as a result I knew more about the world at an early age than a lot of my friends do even now. My mom was big on learning, both academics and esoterica. At two she read me Poe (and gave me a giant teddy named Edgar Allan Polar Bear); at three she taught me to speak Spanish; at four I learned the names of all the constellations; at five she taught me how to do logic puzzles; at six I learned how to cast the runes and scry into a crystal ball.
She moved me all around the place, not just from home to home (some of them with boyfriends) but from country to country, which is something that I have never quite forgiven her for; while I recognize that it was a good experience, at the age of 26 I still do not quite know where home is.
I moved out of her (rented) house in Spain when I was seventeen, and came back to England to live with my father and brother and start college. The year that I was away from her I worried about her constantly, and the summer that I was eighteen I moved back into her English house and have not moved out since. I love my mother more than anything, but familiarity is breeding resentment, and at least once a week I tell myself that I need to move out. However, I think the worry would still be there - more so than before, even, since she is a lot sicker than she was - so I stay. And I bitch. And whinge. But I still stay.
My father. Philip Collins, not to be confused with the singer (although it does help him get restaurant reservations). My father is one of the most conservative people I know. Before he had his stroke, I could count on one hand the amount of times I've heard him curse, or even get angry. When I was a kid I wanted them to get married (partly because I was sick of being poor, partly because I was sick of being the only kid at school whose parents never married) but as an adult I'm more inclined to look at the pair of them and think, What were you THINKING, having a child together? Where my mother is a creature ruled by her emotions, my father is cool and logical and practical and more brain than feelings. Oh, I don't doubt that he has feelings, but most people - with the exception of my stepmother - rarely get to see them.
I am enough like my mother that my father and I don't always see eye-to-eye, and enough like my father that I drive my mother crazy. The two personality types clash in me, like positively and negatively-charged particles, and I often feel a little schizophrenic.
I get along well with my father as long as I don't show too much weakness around him. He finds my illness hard to cope with, although it's possible that he can understand it better now that he has a life-altering medical condition of his own. Nonetheless, I confine my visits to my father to the days when my health is good and everything in my life is going well. By contrast, my mother gets me at my worst. :P
I do love my father, and I know that it pains him that we have so few interests in common, so I go out of my way to be interested in the things that he likes. He is greatly interested in art, history, literature and all things to do with Spain. He enjoys tennis and opera. Aside from (very) selective literature and Spain, I don't care one whit about any of those things. But I do care about my father, and like spending time with him. So we go to art galleries, and browse old bookstores, and talk about Voltaire and Cervantes. I've learned quite a lot about those things over the years. I even listen to opera with him sometimes, although I tend to draw the line at tennis unless Nadal's playing.
I've been using the present tense here, and I really shouldn't have. My father had a stroke eighteen months ago and hasn't been the same since. He never will be. That knowledge is there, deep inside me, the awareness that I will never walk through a gallery with him or hear him talk about the difference between abstract and post-modern art, or hear him call me darling, but I haven't yet begun to process it, and most days I shove that loss away and don't think about it. I have to, if I'm to function.
Both my parents are wonderfully good people - they have faults, but they're kind and loyal, and I hope that one day I can be that good.
Day 01 - Introduce yourself
Day 02 – Your first love
Day 03 – Your parents
Day 04 – What you ate today
Day 05 – Your definition of love
Day 06 – Your day
Day 07 – Your best friend
Day 08 – A moment
Day 09 – Your beliefs
Day 10 – What you wore today
Day 11 – Your siblings
Day 12 – What’s in your bag
Day 13 – This week
Day 14 – What you wore today
Day 15 – Your dreams
Day 16 – Your first kiss
Day 17 – Your favorite memory
Day 18 – Your favorite birthday
Day 19 – Something you regret
Day 20 – This month
Day 21 – Another moment
Day 22 – Something that upsets you
Day 23 – Something that makes you feel better
Day 24 – Something that makes you cry
Day 25 – A first
Day 26 – Your fears
Day 27 – Your favorite place
Day 28 – Something that you miss
Day 29 – Your aspirations
Day 30 – One last moment
First Love
Meme Day 2 (October 2nd) - First Love
The first time I thought myself in love, I was thirteen and he was seventeen. His name was Julian Hayes (anglicised from Hausach), middle name Heimdall. He found the middle name hilarious, because Heimdall was one of the Nordic gods of sunlight and goodness - his name literally means "he who casts bright rays" - and Julian was one of the darkest, most intense people I ever knew. He always said he should have been named Loki, and I was inclined to agree with him.
Ju was a beautiful boy, intelligent and passionate, who happened to be emotionally damaged. He never was shown love from his parents, and when I loved him with everything my young, naive, thirteen-year-old heart could give, he couldn't cope with it and eventually self- destructed, after trying his best to take me with him.
Julian died eleven years ago, and I still have days when I miss him so much it hurts. Mostly, though, I think of him fondly.
The first boy I loved in anything even approaching a healthy way was a good friend of mine named Michael Zammit. I was fifteen. Nothing ever came of this, because he lives in Australia and I live in England. We were close friends, though, and he was the first person I ever fantasised about spending my life with. I always think of Michael as my first real crush - while there had been ones before him, he was the first one to occupy my thoughts night and day. Michael's still a good friend, although we don't talk as much as we used to. Last time we talked, I told him he was my Jacob (as in Twilight / New Moon) - it's an unforgivable cliche, but no less true for being so. He brought the sunlight to my life at a time when I had very little of it, and he taught me how to see it for myself, and for that I will always remember him.
The first time I fell truly in love was my fifth day of Sixth Form college in London. I was seventeen. It was the first day I talked to a guy who would later become my closest friend, and I'm afraid I fell in love and never quite fell out. Believe me, I've tried. Over the years I've become an expert at shoving this love down deep inside myself, where it can't escape, but this is the best I can do - after nine years I love him still, despite everything I've tried to get rid of it, and on my most pessimistic days I think that I'll still love him if I live another ninety.
I probably haven't given as much detail as I should have here. Oh well, most of you know the stories anyway. *shrugs*
Day 01 - Introduce yourself
Day 02 – Your first love
Day 03 – Your parents
Day 04 – What you ate today
Day 05 – Your definition of love
Day 06 – Your day
Day 07 – Your best friend
Day 08 – A moment
Day 09 – Your beliefs
Day 10 – What you wore today
Day 11 – Your siblings
Day 12 – What’s in your bag
Day 13 – This week
Day 14 – What you wore today
Day 15 – Your dreams
Day 16 – Your first kiss
Day 17 – Your favorite memory
Day 18 – Your favorite birthday
Day 19 – Something you regret
Day 20 – This month
Day 21 – Another moment
Day 22 – Something that upsets you
Day 23 – Something that makes you feel better
Day 24 – Something that makes you cry
Day 25 – A first
Day 26 – Your fears
Day 27 – Your favorite place
Day 28 – Something that you miss
Day 29 – Your aspirations
Day 30 – One last moment
The first time I thought myself in love, I was thirteen and he was seventeen. His name was Julian Hayes (anglicised from Hausach), middle name Heimdall. He found the middle name hilarious, because Heimdall was one of the Nordic gods of sunlight and goodness - his name literally means "he who casts bright rays" - and Julian was one of the darkest, most intense people I ever knew. He always said he should have been named Loki, and I was inclined to agree with him.
Ju was a beautiful boy, intelligent and passionate, who happened to be emotionally damaged. He never was shown love from his parents, and when I loved him with everything my young, naive, thirteen-year-old heart could give, he couldn't cope with it and eventually self- destructed, after trying his best to take me with him.
Julian died eleven years ago, and I still have days when I miss him so much it hurts. Mostly, though, I think of him fondly.
The first boy I loved in anything even approaching a healthy way was a good friend of mine named Michael Zammit. I was fifteen. Nothing ever came of this, because he lives in Australia and I live in England. We were close friends, though, and he was the first person I ever fantasised about spending my life with. I always think of Michael as my first real crush - while there had been ones before him, he was the first one to occupy my thoughts night and day. Michael's still a good friend, although we don't talk as much as we used to. Last time we talked, I told him he was my Jacob (as in Twilight / New Moon) - it's an unforgivable cliche, but no less true for being so. He brought the sunlight to my life at a time when I had very little of it, and he taught me how to see it for myself, and for that I will always remember him.
The first time I fell truly in love was my fifth day of Sixth Form college in London. I was seventeen. It was the first day I talked to a guy who would later become my closest friend, and I'm afraid I fell in love and never quite fell out. Believe me, I've tried. Over the years I've become an expert at shoving this love down deep inside myself, where it can't escape, but this is the best I can do - after nine years I love him still, despite everything I've tried to get rid of it, and on my most pessimistic days I think that I'll still love him if I live another ninety.
I probably haven't given as much detail as I should have here. Oh well, most of you know the stories anyway. *shrugs*
Day 01 - Introduce yourself
Day 02 – Your first love
Day 03 – Your parents
Day 04 – What you ate today
Day 05 – Your definition of love
Day 06 – Your day
Day 07 – Your best friend
Day 08 – A moment
Day 09 – Your beliefs
Day 10 – What you wore today
Day 11 – Your siblings
Day 12 – What’s in your bag
Day 13 – This week
Day 14 – What you wore today
Day 15 – Your dreams
Day 16 – Your first kiss
Day 17 – Your favorite memory
Day 18 – Your favorite birthday
Day 19 – Something you regret
Day 20 – This month
Day 21 – Another moment
Day 22 – Something that upsets you
Day 23 – Something that makes you feel better
Day 24 – Something that makes you cry
Day 25 – A first
Day 26 – Your fears
Day 27 – Your favorite place
Day 28 – Something that you miss
Day 29 – Your aspirations
Day 30 – One last moment
Saturday 2 October 2010
Introduction to Sati
This is my 30-Day Meme. I'll try really hard to remember to post every day.
[I didn't get past day 4. I got stuck on my definition of love.]
Meme Day 1 (October 1st) - Introduce Yourself
Hi. I'm Sati and this is the introduction to my 30-Day Meme. I'm doing this because Ambie told me to, and I love Ambie.
I suppose the basics are 26 / F / UK. U?
I didn't really need to add the "U?", and I rarely speak txtspk, but sometimes I still write that the way I did when I was 14 and first using chatrooms, because it looks like I'm saying, "I'm 26, so f*** you," and that makes me giggle. I'm not sure why, probably because I feel like saying this sometimes. I have to defend my age a lot - half the time people think I'm under 16, and ask me for ID when I'm buying lottery tickets, and the other half they think I'm a 35-year-old soccer mom.
The name I go by is Sati Marie Frost, or sometimes Sati-Marie Frost. My birth certificate reads Sandra Marie Collins Frost, but nobody's ever called me Sandra apart from new teachers on their first day, or my parents when I'm in trouble. It's a conditioned reaction now; every time I hear someone say Sandra I cringe and immediately feel guilty, even when I haven't done anything wrong.
People have always called me Sati or Sandy. I don't mind Sandy, but every time I introduce myself as that, people sing songs from Grease to me, and they always think it's the first time someone's made that joke, so I have to pretend I find it funny. I'm happy to be sung to, but I wish guys would use a little bit of imagination when they do it. Singing Grease songs is not cool. Singing "Born to Run" and putting in "Sandy" instead of "Wendy"...now THAT would be cool.
I don't use the Collins, because double-barrelled surnames are a pain on forms, and if I use it as a middle name people always go, "But Colin's a boy's name!"
I'm adding an Elizabeth to my name, because every woman in my maternal grandmother's line has had Elizabeth as a middle name except me.
I am extremely verbose. In case you don't know what that means, Merriam-Webster online defines it as "given to wordiness". Meaning, I take a lot of words to say things. I could easily make this introduction pages and pages long, but I'll leave that for my next post. And yes, I noticed that I used this introduction to tell you unimportant things about my name instead of important things about my character. Sometimes I'm like that - I kind of sidle up to an issue instead of approaching it head-on. Not often, but now and then.
For more information, feel free to check out my "about me" on my Facebook profile - Sati-Marie Frost - Sandy.
You know, instead of just reading mine you could make your own, ja?
Here's how it supposed to go:
Day 01 - Introduce yourself
Day 02 – Your first love
Day 03 – Your parents
Day 04 – What you ate today
Day 05 – Your definition of love
Day 06 – Your day
Day 07 – Your best friend
Day 08 – A moment
Day 09 – Your beliefs
Day 10 – What you wore today
Day 11 – Your siblings
Day 12 – What’s in your bag
Day 13 – This week
Day 14 – What you wore today
Day 15 – Your dreams
Day 16 – Your first kiss
Day 17 – Your favorite memory
Day 18 – Your favorite birthday
Day 19 – Something you regret
Day 20 – This month
Day 21 – Another moment
Day 22 – Something that upsets you
Day 23 – Something that makes you feel better
Day 24 – Something that makes you cry
Day 25 – A first
Day 26 – Your fears
Day 27 – Your favorite place
Day 28 – Something that you miss
Day 29 – Your aspirations
Day 30 – One last moment
The Horns Of A Furious Dilemma
I have a fashion dilemma. I really kind of want both these coats.
(Sorry they're not the same size, when I tried to change the sizes they went blurry.)
The coat on the right is the petrol-blue one I mentioned a few notes down. (It's actually a bit lighter and grayer than it looks in this picture.) The one on the left is somewhere between a cream and a camel colour.
Both quite similar styles. Both would suit me well. (I think, although I haven't tried the camel on yet.) Both very beautiful and warm.
The blue is £40 (although £30 if I buy it this week) and from Matalan, so the quality's probably reasonable - it'll last me a couple of years. The camel is £75 from Next, so likely of a slightly better quality.
I don't know which colour is more practical. The camel will be perfect with my spring clothes, and the blue will be excellent with my autumn clothes. Problem is if I wait for spring, the camel won't be there.
So: Cheaper blue? More expensive camel? Both, and hide the receipts?
(Sorry they're not the same size, when I tried to change the sizes they went blurry.)
The coat on the right is the petrol-blue one I mentioned a few notes down. (It's actually a bit lighter and grayer than it looks in this picture.) The one on the left is somewhere between a cream and a camel colour.
Both quite similar styles. Both would suit me well. (I think, although I haven't tried the camel on yet.) Both very beautiful and warm.
The blue is £40 (although £30 if I buy it this week) and from Matalan, so the quality's probably reasonable - it'll last me a couple of years. The camel is £75 from Next, so likely of a slightly better quality.
I don't know which colour is more practical. The camel will be perfect with my spring clothes, and the blue will be excellent with my autumn clothes. Problem is if I wait for spring, the camel won't be there.
So: Cheaper blue? More expensive camel? Both, and hide the receipts?
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