SEVEN.

Seven days to go...

until... cherry blossoms, photographs, time with my niece, good food and hopefully a little bit of sunshine. 

Tokyo... here I come!

So...... ny.



For some unknown reason, my Cowon stopped working today.  It won't switch on, it won't charge up - it's simply passed away quietly whilst in sleep-mode.  It was a bit of a shock as it's only a couple of years old and I searched high and low for something to replace my previous mp3 player which was perfect, just too small for my needs.  Sony also let me down mobile-wise a few years ago, and when they stopped making my previous mp3 player I was heartbroken.  The Cowon matched for sound quality but the user interface just wasn't as friendly and easy to navigate as my Sony.  I can't really function normally without an MP3 player, and with my impending long haul flights to Tokyo just 10 days away, I embarked on a research mission this morning to find a suitable replacement.  I found it right away... albeit actually getting hold of THE ONLY ONE IN THE WEST MIDLANDS was a bit of a mission.  *** Note to shops- do NOT advertise as selling a product that a customer has to order in.  Why say that you sell it, when I have to wait up to three days for you to order it in..? That's what Amazon is for... ***

 

So, after a few years away, I have reignited my tumultuous love affair with Sony.  I purchased a Sony A series and also a fairly cheap pair of headphones (though these won't be replacing my Shure in-earphones).  I'm currently sat in my lounge, testing out all the sound controls and features to optimize them for my strict tastes and high standards.  It's like returning home to an old lover after a pointless and unsatisfactory affair; it feels good to be back in bed with a familiar companion now that the passion is back.

 

I've lost nothing on sound quality and as expected with Sony products I've not actually had to fiddle much with the sound equalisation as the natural Sony sound is tuned in with my preferred tastes- slightly bass-y and meaty with clear spangly overtones.  It's already passed the Nine Inch Nails and Tool test, so I'm just running through the Tron soundtrack.  My Shure earphones compliment it perfectly, and despite the average Sony headphones I bought, they're also actually pretty decent quality too. Now... the only thing I haven't tested is compatibility with Franko.  

 

 

Chuffed to bits.  I could have done without the expense so near to my trip... however I think this is a match made in heaven and I'm glad I'll be travelling with Sony in my bag and ears again.  :-)

The Babadook-dook-dook

Ages ago, when I went to see The Riot Club, I saw a trailer for The Babadook.  I immediately felt torn because I badly wanted to see it but suspected it would mess with my head.  I've been very wary of horror films since I've been quite badly affected by them in the past though I highly suspect that similar to taking narcotics, it depends on your mental state at the time of exposure, as to the consequences.  I'm a very visual and sensitive person, and when I say that I think I have heightened senses, so imagery and sounds can really affect me.  Years ago, I was quite badly disturbed by The Grudge (which I am WELL aware is a shit film) due to one scene where a young boys mouth opens really wide and a cat noise comes out.  I have NEVER forgotten that.  I struggled sleeping... but then I have a feeling this was at a time when I was struggling to sleep anyway.

 

I digress.  So, I have slowly been getting back into watching scary movies... and to be honest I've actually been disappointed.  They just aren't scary.  I think also when you've studied film basics you kind of distance yourself somewhat and are able to predict the jumpy parts.  I watched Paranormal activity 1 and 2 (hate ghosts/poltergeist stuff) and it failed to frighten me or disturb me to the extent I imagined.  In part, scary films have got far, far too unrealistic to scare me. They become unbelievable and you're able to distance yourself further.

 

The Babadook, on first glance at the trailer, seemed scary... but not only that, it being underpinned by illustrations from a children's book, and the potential for this theme to infiltrate the rest of the cinematography intrigued me.  The thing that really sealed the deal was the only film critic whose opinion I actually trust and respect, Mark Kermode, actually said that it was fantastically executed.

 

On this basis I pre-ordered it.  It arrived last week and I've been putting off watching it since then... scared that this could be the film that stops me sleeping for weeks and plunges me into some sort of mental episode (my fear).

 

Tonight, I took the plunge. Alone. At night. But I kept the lamp on.

 

 

**** SPOILER ALERT ****

 

 

 

 

******* There now follows a post about the film, so PLEASE if you intend on watching it do NOT read any further.  *******

 

 

 

 

 

********** Seriously....  Massive spoiler ahead.... ************

 

 

 

 

 

It became apparent quite early on in the film, that this was the type of film I like, with depth; composed, intelligently structured mise-en-scene, and good narrative with layers.

 

It also became apparent, that this was different to run-of-the-mill horror films with the standard gratuitous mystery, ambiguous evil presence, pregnant pauses and tingly music.  This film, had a clear message.  It wasn't hidden, or hard to pick up on... it was obvious early on that this film is about a REAL monster- Depression and unresolved trauma. It becomes clear that the young boy's behaviour is echoing his Mother's unresolved resentment and stress brought on by grief and insomnia. The Babadook is the manifestation of his Mother's mental breakdown and the boy becomes her protector.  It's compelling, particularly now I work in Child Protection and see mental health issues becoming increasingly responsible for provoking Child Protection conferences where children are being neglected and affected by their parent's behaviours.  In fact, social services make an appearance, albeit they do as shit a job in the film as they do in real life at protecting the child.  It's a good one for people who work in Mental Health or Child Protection actually... call it an educational film! Less terrifying, more creepingly, chilling, I can safely say I don't feel like there are any images that are going to haunt me when I try sleep tonight. 

 

The words in the book will resonate deeply with anyone who has experienced deep depression.  This gave this film depth for me that allowed me to enjoy it without being scared out of my wits, though there were definite moments of anxiety, tension and "tingly skin" moments... you know the ones where you get that little burst of adrenalin from the fear of it which you can feel flood through your veins for about a second. Brilliantly done, excellently acted, well composed and beautifully filmed in a way which echoes the old film noir horrors, which are referenced perfectly.

 

I appreciate most films created by true artists... and this is one.  Expertly done and money well spent.

 



 

Bad Night.

Some thoughts:

B. You're a prick but you've actually listened to me. Been there. It means nothing but something too on the most superficial basis possible.

You offer me nothing. Too much hassle. Too much shit. I see you. Weak. Everything about you contradicts. Lies. Red flags. Frustration. Go.

BE. You've ignored me. Why?

K, A, M. You have no idea. Clueless. Ignorance in bliss.

I. Wtf. Why didn't you just say it?

N. I hate you.

C. You mean well but it's all shit and I've heard it a hundred times.

S. Replaceable. Pointless. Useable. Temporary. Disposable.

Hello insomnia.

I'm not entirely convinced I even belong here.

Platonic.

Due to my choice of University and subsequently my choice of career, I've always had many male friends.  Even in school I had a nice mixed group of friends in sixth form.  I actually find male company less intense, and up until my current job, a lot less complicated without the usual and stereotypical cattiness that comes with being around lots of women.  There have been complications previously, when the boundaries of friendship have blurred on one side and not the other, but generally my male friends have had just a bigger influence on my life as my female ones.

However, now I'm getting older, my circle of friends has decreased naturally, as it does when you start to understand who is meant to stay and who isn't.  In the last week, I've had two good male friends say that meeting up with me would make their partner uncomfortable.  To pad this out, both these friends of mine have never ever been anything more than friends. Both have long-term partners - one a fiancé, the other a wife.  I've been told that both these women would be uncomfortable with their partner meeting me for a drink or coffee which I find to be a massive judgment on my character based on nothing other than the fact that I am female and single, which clearly means I must be desperate to steal other women's men.  Even when you're happily married, it would appear I am still a threat.  It's ridiculous.  I can partly understand the unknown being a source of anxiety for women in this situation, but there are ways around it; getting to know me for a start!

I guess this is going to get more and more common.  With my female friends getting married and settling down, and my male friends being banned from seeing me... it's set to be a pretty lonely decent into my thirties.

The Narcissist

Last year I met a guy.  We will call him B.  He is a Narcissist.

Now when I say this, I'm not saying it lightly or in jest.  I actually, GENUINELY mean he is one. I've used this to describe just generally self-serving assholes before... but this guy is on a whole other level.

I have rarely, if ever actually, met someone who is actually the stereotype, text book being of a psychological profile, but my god, he is one. 

He has just about every trait. For a long time he made absolutely no sense to me, but after a long time of careful observation and some careful handling, he is the very epitome of narcissism.  His behaviours, words, language... all of it, oozes narcissism.  This goes beyond vanity, far deeper rooted and I can even pick this up from how he talks about his mother.  He takes no responsibility, he is superficial but has massive insecurities.  He papers up the gaping cracks in his life with empty ambition and this ridiculous notion that he is some sort of hero but underneath he is a weak, lost little boy begging to be accepted.  He is vague, plays cards close to his chest (his words) and NEVER actually states what he wants so that he can keep many people (mainly women) on tenterhooks and guessing as to what he's thinking.  Now I've seen it for what it is, I'm no longer frustrated by this person's actions and I'm no longer confused as to where I stand; I was a pawn.  He still describes me as a friend, but I feel my purpose fading as he realises the control is gone and he's no longer able to manipulate... though I let him think he does sometimes because I find it somewhat fascinating.  It's like having a walking, talking case study in psychology. 

I was doing some reading up on Narcissists and there is literally no way of breaking down the strange, delusional worlds they build for themselves.  There is however, a degree of transcendence for me in understanding how B works and knowing that he is caught in a never ending cycle of frustration and disappointment; far below the high standards and delusional success he claims he has and wants. He will never break this, and probably never achieve happiness, although apparently Narcissism lessens with age so now he is nearing 40 he may gradually naturally decrease his ingrained narcissistic behaviours. I actually take some pride in being able to observe such a perfect psychological profile, so close up, without being at all emotionally affected by their behaviour, keeping them at arms length and being able to almost play him at his own game. 

Fascinating.

Chillaxxxx...

Ah. Two days off mid-week. Loving it.  I actually get to go to the gym when it's not full of kids or posing twats and I don't have to wait around for someone to get off their phone and vacate a machine. Score!

I've booked the remainder of my leave up until March now... so I think I have just one full week between now and my trip to Japan.  I can't wait.  Whilst I'm apprehensive about the flights... or more the airports, I'm actually so excited about travelling and seeing my niece again who I haven't seen since she was 6 months old.  :)

Tomorrow I'm hoping to go shopping with one of my best buds so I might pick up some new pumps for Japan.  It will keep my mind off the impending SHITENESS of Valentines Day with all it's tatty pink and red hearts of SHITE.

Gizmo is still not eating.  I'm on my last bit of Vet instructions before I have to take her back and probably spend all my savings on more tests to get her better.  She still looks bright eyed, but she also still hasn't eaten and it's now getting on for four weeks.  I've even started BEGGING her to eat something but she is simply not interested... at all. Pleeeeease get better Gizmo!

The Sickness.

So, I can finally swallow without having to physically build up to dealing with the pain! Woohoo! My tonsillitis is finally on the way out! ... which consequently means I am back to work tomorrow.  Well, for two days at least, and those two days are spent on two training courses so it's not too taxing. 

Last week was full of headaches (which seem to also be easing although the odd twinge remains and I'm relying less on ibuprofen and Panadol); swollen glands; razorblade throats and white tonsils... but it's also been tinged with a bit of maternal stress.

My beautiful leopard gecko Gizmo has stopped eating.  She's had NO food for well over three weeks now and has lost weight. I took her to a reptile vet on Friday where she was X-Rayed and given a once over but nothing no explanation could be found.  The vet said she looks otherwise healthy and to her she didn't look underweight yet but I'm still so worried about her.  The vet gave me a course of antibiotics which has been a bit of a mission administering to her via syringe but I haven't seen any improvements.  I've tried changing the food type- no interest in locusts, crickets, morio's or mealworms.  I've tried cutting the legs off the hoppers to make it easier for her to catch- still no interest.  I've got to take her back to the vet in a few more days if she's still not eaten and I'm panicking as to how much the next steps could cost since she'll require intensive tests and a stay at the vets. I've even begged with her... but she just blinked at me.  As well as all this, I get the impression she no longer trusts me since I've had to handle her every day and each time I have it's been to put foul tasting stuff in her mouth - causing her more stress.  So not only do I feel like a bad mum because she's ill; I feel like she hates me for it too.

Being a Mum sucks. 

Other things that suck:
- Weddings everywhere
- Valentines fucking day
- Loads of films being out at the cinema and having no one to go with.
- Not being able to go to my friends wedding party because of my dickhead ex being there.

My Head.

It's been a whole month since I posted and lots of shit has happened but for today I am going to talk about my head.  For a change though, I'm not talking emotionally... my head, it would seem is PHYSICALLY broken.

I've started getting migraines again... after YEARS of not getting them and I haven't the faintest idea why. Since my last migraine which was a week last Saturday (9 days ago) I've had a permanent headache. 9 days of headache. Not full days, by about the evening it's worn of or lessened, but pretty much it's always there.  It starts the second I wake... I open my eyes and can count maybe three seconds before I feel a pain build in the left side of the back of my skull... which then gradually seeps round the sides and front of my skull throughout the morning; getting worse when I move quick.  9 days of this is somewhat tiring. I finally went to see a doctor today... this doctor looked about 12 years old and was smaller than I am... however I can only presume she did her degree in the womb because I'm pretty sure you need a degree to be a GP.  She said that it is most likely down to stress and that other than reducing work stress (not likely), taking ibuprofen and resting, then there isn't much additional she can recommend.  Fab.

I've got home to find a big white mark on my tonsil.  Woohoo. Back to the docs I go.

Tidings.

So Christmas has been and gone. 

I can't quite believe that tomorrow will be my last day of annual leave before returning to work on Monday.  It hasn't felt like two weeks- but I have enjoyed my time off and I'm really glad I didn't cancel it.

It's been a nice Christmas and better than I anticipated. 

I've spent today nursing the usual sleepiness of post-New Years Eve celebrations.  Its usually at this point that I make some resolutions however I'm not going to bother: They are always the same and the only thing I need to change this year is to waste no time on twats and to not overthink things.

I have much to look forward to in 2015:  I have a trip to Japan and possibly a trip to Australia later in the year with a view to looking into job prospects there. 

Lots to see, projects to do and no one holding me back anymore.  Here's hoping it's a good one.

Holly.

A small red cheery berry and a dark green spikey leaf that hurts.

It's Christmas. 

Despite the normal grumbles about commuting in potential snow... December is usually my favourite time of the year. This year however it feels somewhat muted.  I'm trying so hard to stay positive and enjoy it but I can't help feeling that I'm simply not as jolly this year.  Perhaps it's just because of the events of the last six months, or just a general fatigue from being overworked ... I'm not sure... but I've struggled to maintain the usual excitement and this has affected my ability to plan and prepare for the holiday season too. 

I've normally done all my shopping and got it wrapped under a strictly colour-co ordinated Christmas tree. I haven't. I only just finished my shopping this morning and have yet to have things delivered, wrapped and ready.  My presents seem a bit hap-hazard and the ones I've made I'm not incredibly pleased with either; I've scrapped one handmade one, and have three more to complete.  I've wrapped what I do have... a mishmash of Christmas wrapping paper and ribbons from previous years which are usually perfectly planned and co ordinated. I've just had to make do, unwilling to put the full effort and money into the usual standards I achieve.  This is pretty much a summary of where I am in my life.  Caught in between lots of things and not really completely together. But that's ok.  

Despite all this... it's not all gloom.  I've had some lovely festive outings already with some tasty cocktails and good company; a trip to the German market and sampling some Brum pubs; and have a few more before the end of the year.  I've not spent a ridiculous amount of money and needing to save for Christmas has meant I've had some cosy weekends in sculpting instead of spending money on alcohol.  I'm also back in touch with a friend I thought I lost this Christmas. You've got to be grateful for small things.

I'm sure the December reflections will be there, niggling, in the back of my mind for some time... but I'm trying to keep my focus on what is important.  Whatever happens next year is next year, for now, sit back, enjoy the family, friends and Christmas cheeriness in people's eyes... and try to relax. If nothing else, two weeks off will be much needed to replenish and kick back.

Ring of Fire.

I have been deliberating for a while about selling my engagement ring. I was torn and found the idea of it just too upsetting but tonight... part of me just wants rid of it. It is and always was meaningless. It will be the only one I ever recieve, of that I am certain, but I no longer need it nor what it symbolizes.

Getting rid of it would be saying good riddance to a person who:

Destroyed my confidence.
Lied to my face.
Cheated on me.
Watched pornography.
Was selfish.
Took away my home and left me with nothing.
Was happy to mislead me in order for him to achieve the above.
Jumped into another girls bed in a matter of weeks after telling me it was over.
Frequently told me what a bad person I was.
Couldn't be arsed to support me when my mum got cancer.
Put his work before everything else.
Who is blind to his toxic family.
Who told me he loved me and continued sleeping with me while he lined up his next relationship.
Made me feel I was never enough.
Caused me to have to go through the lowest times in my life.
Continues to speak bullshit to protect his reputation.
Didn't allow me room to be sad.
Hated to be challenged.
Was elitist and politically right wing.
Was happy to destroy other peoples relationships.

And I'm hanging on to it why?

I'd rather have never had one at all and not have wasted 10 years on that fuck up.

Good riddance.

The Test.

 The day has come to test these two Ice Cream Behemoths...

 

 

 

It was with great trepidation that I picked up that spoon.  This was the moment.  Some 8/9 years since had passed before Minter Wonderland had entered my mouth on it's shiney, silver steed. I've been used to Haagen Dazs for the last few years, it stepping in to fill the void left behind Minter Wonderlands epic wake.  I know the taste of Haagen Dazs now, as if it is part of my own body.  And yet, here, armed with my weapon-like spoon, I plunged back into the past to see if the lasting memory of this frozen creamy-dream lived up to the reality.

 

I have to say, I was surprised with the results. 

 

I can officially announce that Minter Wonderland... is NOT tastier than it's rival. 

 

Mint Leaves... the Ice Cream is creamier, tastier with more depth of mintiness flavour, and there is more chocolate per spoonful.  It also seems to melt quicker in the mouth. 

 

Minter Wonderland lacked that punch.  It's Ice Cream tastes blander in comparison, and although the chocolate chunks are "meatier" there are fewer of them in the tub it would appear.  It's not as minty or as refreshing to the pallet.

 

It looks like Haagen Dasz has surpassed Minter Wonderland... had it not been for Minter Wonderland's initial demise prior to Mint Leaves being marketed, I feel I would have made the switch regardless.  It would appear that Minter Wonderland only retained it's mantle in my heart and mind due to it's unavailability, a lost treasure, the memory of which appears to have been greater than truth. 

 

And now, Mint Leaves can take it's rightful place... the consistent provider who didn't abandon me can now bathe in it's glorious defeat of the old ruler of the minty dessert Kingdom.  All hail... the worlds best Ice Cream... Mint Leaves and Chocolate! 

The Second Coming.

On the 10th November 2014 at 1904hrs I got sent this...

 

 

This.... is THE ice cream. 

 

In short:  **READ IT HERE**

 

2005- Ben & Jerry's release this BEAST of an Ice Cream.  I am addicted.

2005- The Ice Cream vanishes to the depths of the Ben & Jerry's Graveyard

2005- I drop into a despair and grief that can only be understood by hardcore addicts. Withdrawal symptoms included emailing Ben & Jerry's to beg for it's return- only to be told I can "view" it in the Graveyard on their website.  I do.  I am heartbroken.

2005-13 Years of heartache and Mint Ice Cream misery ensue.  No other mint ice cream tastes the same.

2013- Hagen Daas release Mint Leaves & Chocolate. My faith in humanity, hope, ice cream and mint is restored.

2014- Minter Wonderland descends. I explode with Joy.

 

It has returned.  In my time of need.  It has returned.  Words genuinely cannot express how I felt seeing that photograph... it was monumental.  I can only compare it to finding my long lost snake ring all those years ago after a year of it being lost.  It was spiritual, emotional and just epic. 

 

I was sent a few torturous videos of it being opened and eaten... however... this was short lived and manageable.  There then followed a WEEK of trying to hunt some down in various supermarkets. And finally.. FINALLY ... I managed to get hold of some after a tip off of some stock in Sainsburys.  I got the last two tubs.  At present I have two tubs of Minter Wonderland and two tubs of Mint Leaves in my freezer.  This makes me feel... glorious.

 

Tomorrow I plan on having a compare of the two ice creams. This is going to be a huge moment for Ice Cream and an even huger moment for my tastebuds. I will blog my results following the strictly controlled experiment.

 

I know my time with this ice cream is short... it won't still be here like the Hagen Daas has been all this time, so I hope it permits me a short, brief affair with the ice cream that started this all. 

Under The Skin.

Every once in a while, I catch a film that actually blows me away. 

Last night I watched Under The Skin by Jonathan Glazer.  Now, I love Jonathan Glazer and have long admired his work, in particular his music videos for various bands throughout the 1990's. 

This film couldn't have been made by anyone else.  It was quintessentially Glazer. 

Odd, strange, twisting, thought provoking and mysterious but with a cinematic detail and artistry that is rarely seen in modern mainstream cinema.

There was a brilliant use of metaphor running parallel to a beautiful use of colour and symbolism which made you well aware you were watching a moving artwork rather than just a film.  The overall theme and message which ran throughout was huge in both scope, relevance and impact.

Brilliant.  Faith restored in film for another few months. :)

Take Down.

It's been an interesting week for Feminism.... We've seen the downfall of Dapper Laughs: a sexist dickhead with a childish humour and dangerously disturbing attitude towards women who was successfully taken down by the fabulous OBJECT campaign #takedowndapperlaughs, which saw ITV2 cave to pressure and pull the show from their line-up.  The question remains what utter loser pitched this up as a good comedy offering in the first place?

Prior to this was my introduction to this sick twat - Julien BLANC who appears to be a big fan of sexually assaulting and degrading women and by all accounts appears to be able to get audiences of naïve men or disgusting pigs to hear him talk about it. 

And then there's yet another rapist footballer being given his job back despite public outcry.  Jessica Ennis is among some celebrities who have stated they wish to be removed from their publicity books and have the chair named after them removed from the site if he is re-signed.  It's not uncommon for sex offenders running around on a football pitch but again, reassuringly this time more people seem to be irritated by the concept. 

The positives are that these vile, misogynistic, dickheads are being brought to light in the media and largely ridiculed for their particular brand of hideous, obscene sexism, violence and hatred.  There were even reassuring calls from some to ban him BLANC from entering the UK just as any terrorist preaching hatred would.  I see no reason to treat him any differently. 

In stark contrast, Pussy Riot are currently visiting the UK upholding the banner for not only women but proving that bravery, strength and honesty can't be beaten down.

Fright Night and Fisty Cuffs.

The much anticipated Halloween Party 2014 took place last Friday.  I freakin LOVE Halloween as it's a good chance to get dressed up in something weird and outrageous and decorate the flat in awesome, gory tat.  This year I went for a classic Beetlejuice and I have to say I think I did a good job on the ol' makeup.  :-) A good night was had by all, although it finished fairly early due to a lot of people driving and/or working the next day. The only downside was being very poorly that night thanks to someone untrained in the art of making whiskey mixers virtually poisoning me with a quadruple strength Southern Comfort and Coke.  And maybe me for drinking it... but that's by the by.

 

 

The last two days of this week have been spent on some Personal Safety Training and I have to say, after my partner and I getting recognition for being the best two students of the course, it's given me a hankering to get back to the gym and build up more strength.  I thoroughly loved my course and have hopefully picked up some safety tips should I ever get attacked both in and out of my job.  I love that size doesn't come into it, and that you can quite easily defend yourself no matter how teeny you are.  It makes me want to box, and get stronger so I can really take people by surprise.  Comments of the day today were: "God you are really quite strong" and "You're really aggressive for a tiddly person".  Yeah man.  That is all I want... to be stronger than I actually appear.  I'm never going to be really strong and I don't have the commitment and dedication to be super fit either, but as long as I can be stronger than I appear... I'm happy. 

 

All in all, a brilliant two days.  I did get a liiiiiiiittle bit of a crush on one of the trainers, who was a trained fighter.  I just love the spikey movements and the speed of their skills.  I'm a sucker for it. 

 

It's done me good.  I went straight to the gym after my course finished today so chuffed with that too.  I'm going to try my best to go at least 2/3 times a week and get back into the swing of it, as the last few weeks have been pretty slack due to being totally shattered from work and a few other stressful situations which I don't have the energy to go into now.  I feel better tonight than I have this week... before today I felt drained, tired and fed up so beating the shit out of people seems to be a really good pick me up.  :)

Black Glitter.

I was searching for some new music the other night and came across this not-so-new band. 

I immediately loved it and I'll explain why below.



This music is the sound of my teenage years.  I listen and hear echoes of the glory days of the 90s where tuneful rock permeated the mainstream.  I hear echoes of The Smashing Pumpkins and The Pixies in the vocals; Placebo and The Silversun Pickups in the fuzzy, crisp chord changing guitars.  I close my eyes and I could be 16 again, in a sweaty, dark, packed gig venue with bleach blonde hair and chipped, black glitter nail polish on guitar-hardened fingers; an outlet for a collective teenage angst unfolding before my ears and eyes.

Total flashback.

<3 p="">

The Takeover Continues...

The Takeover

... and now this...

Thousands of spiders 'bleed out of the walls' and force family from home.

I think it's fairly appropriate to say... WTAF!?

Light the Fuse.

The blood boils.

Campus nightmare: female students on the rise of sexual harassment

Just HOW is all this allowed to happen in this day and age? These boys (I purposely refrain from using the word Men) are our next generation of working professionals... and this is how we allow them to behave at university? Disgusting. Sexism at it's foulest.

This the same day that I read a newspaper article about a 25 million pound a year footballer coming out of prison after serving half his six year sentence for the rape of a 17 year old teenager, and walking straight back into his job.  Is it any wonder?

Sick.

Where is my mind?

Holy ****.

Now my glass nail file has vanished.  This has a home- in my nail polish bag... and now it's gone. 

I am genuinely now concerned about my mental health. 

This is either:

1).  A ghost
2).  I have alzheimers

I dislike both of those options.

It has been suggested by a few people that maybe I have just been really busy and this has lead to a spate of losing stuff but I'm struggling with this concept as the items are just NOWHERE.

I can now recall (there maybe more as I no longer trust my dementia full brain) a total of THREE items which have vanished beyond trace.

This may be my last post, as tomorrow I could wake up not knowing where the hell my laptop, phone and desktop computer is. 

What. The. Actual. ****.?!

Clepto-ghost.

The following post will be so full of expletives I have actually decided to edit them out.  Apologies.

And no this is not about that irritating person mentioned in the post below.  It is more about the post before that about Money.

So.  I haven't had my glasses for the last week. I've been thinking they were sat on my desk at work and that when I can be bothered I'll go pick them up.  My glasses however are not at work, as I confirmed today.  My glasses would appear to have vanished off the face of the ******* earth. 

My glasses; the ones I spent over SIX WEEKS searching for; the ones I have had for SIX years over TWO prescriptions.  Why two prescriptions?! Because THEY (glasses designers) do not make glasses for people with small faces.  This is THE ONLY pair of glasses I have ever found which suits my small face and as such I've kept them for the last two prescriptions and got them re-lensed each time.  I don't love these glasses, they are a necessity, but now I have somehow lost them, I miss them as I know I will NOT find another pair that suit me as well.

And I've gone and ******* lost them.  I have the ****** glasses CASE but not my glasses leaving me absolutely ******* bewildered as to where the HELL they are. 

What makes this worse is that I have recently blogged about having NO money. What little savings I do have are the only tiny little security blanket I have when my flatmate H decides to move out and live with her bloke.  I have been contemplating using some of my savings to see my brother and niece in Japan next year.. but now I have to use them to buy some ******* new glasses that I wouldn't have needed if I hadn't lost them. Adding to the immense ANNOYANCE of this is the fact that I have a driving course in two weeks, which I will fail if I don't have my glasses!! ;-(

I cannot explain how much I HATE losing things.  I've actually had a mini breakdown this evening as it dawned on me that  I am now going to spend at least £300 on new glasses.  What's worse is I can't find my ******* prescription.  So make that £320 for another ******* eye test too.

MORE frustrating is that I am CONVINCED things are going missing from my room.  A few weeks ago a mirror which I use daily when straightening my hair, has gone missing.  It ALWAYS sits in the same place and rarely gets moved. One day I was using it, the next... it just wasn't there.  I have looked EVERYWHERE for it in my room and it just ******vanished.  And now my glasses have done the same. Unless I have some sort of early onset dementia I am putting this down to a ghost.  If it was dementia, surely I would find these things somewhere... they'd be in the freezer or a cupboard or something? But no... they are literally NOWHERE TO BE SEEN.  I have turned my room upside down looking for these things and they are NOT in there.  I've searched the kitchen, bathroom, lounge, under the sofa seat cushions.  I've searched all bags, pockets, coats, jeans... they are ****** gone.  This thieving ghost just needs to quit and give me all my stuff back before I lose my mind completely.

It's just. Freakin. Ridiculous.

Maybe I'm losing my mind.  This has just really come at the worst possible time.  And maybe I'm making a mountain out of something that really really doesn't sound like a drama.  But hey, **** you, YOU pay for them then.

*grumpiness continues*

Irritation.

We all know them. Those occasional, thankfully infrequent liaisons with people who put simply, irritate the fuck out of you.

I've met one.

There are people who I like, and hit it off with immediately. There are people who I know I'll not get on with; and those who I neither care about either way. There are have even been people who take an immediate dislike to me and more often than not I can't care less about them. However, every now and then, you meet one who just really, really, completely irritates the HELL out of you.

I repeat... I've met one.

This person, I will call Y. I have rarely come across someone who has irritated me quite as much as this person does; and it's been right from the SECOND she first opened her mouth. I can't even explain most of it. It's just a totally irrational, entirely unpleasant personification of nails on a chalk board.  I have a few issues with the way this person behaves, talks... and after this week breathes. 

I first experienced this person on the telephone when she phoned the wrong department to enquire about the job vacancy.  After me repeating about five times that she'd come through to the wrong department, after fifteen minutes she took a breath and enabled me to actually transfer her to my friend Dave, who is now her mentor.  My second encounter with her just brought back awful flashbacks of the phonecall; heightened by her smug little face as she twittered on about how she now had a three minute drive to work... to MY preferred job location, while I'd been given an hours commute because I haven't popped out children.  My contact with her has been limited, thankfully, as I then found out this shrill, being is paid about 5k more than everyone else to do the same job.  This has added to my annoyance. 

I now find myself on WEEK LONG training course with Y.  It's Tuesday... and I'm already finding myself digging my nails into the side of my seat on the NUMEROUS occasions she feels it necessary to open her gob and tell another long winded, excruciatingly, mundane story about things the WHOLE room already knows and experiences on a daily basis.  

This person should be a primary school teacher.  She talks like one.  To everyone;  And in a Black country, sing song, nursery rhyme accent that makes me want to smash up the room in some vain effort to get her to just PLEASE. SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP.  I genuinely don't think that would work.  I could smash every single chair through every single window and turn around to still find her twittering away. 

I can't help the eye rolling, the jaw clenching, the whole body tensing and slow intake of breath every time she speaks.  She speaks... TOO MUCH... and FAR FAR too often.  I'm not the only one to notice either.  I am often told I am too expressive; that is that I can't hide my emotions.  They're usually written all over my face and I have limited control over this.  Today she challenged something I was saying and she basically provoked me into challenging her back and making her look like a total knob in front of the whole course.  I had too.  For the sake of my own sanity I had to correct her, if only just to shut her the fuck up. 

I somehow have to get through another three days of this.  Frighteningly the course involves group work and I live in fear of being told I have to work with her.  I fear my head will actually explode if I have to endure that hellish prospect.

I'm not a nasty person.  I'm not.  However I am sensitive, and therefore easily irritated as you may have discovered from my posts about Misophonia last year. This woman, is the human equivalent of that never ceasing nose whistle, the all-night snore, the endless, slushy, chomp chomp chomp of food between salivating teeth and jaws. 

Friday can NOT come soon enough....

Money.

I have none.

I could leave it there but I need a rant.

My new job was a promotion.  It was a 6k salary rise for me and I thought finally I'd be able to live a little more comfortably.  Well, it would appear I've been a bit too comfortable and now I'm suffering for it.

I've had an awesome few months as is evident from my lack of blog posts... but I fear those times are gone and I now need to knuckle down and stop spending money on having fun.  I need to save. My new job gives me an extra £200 a month which is currently being eaten up by a mahoosive increase in petrol costs. I now have an hour commute, along with having to use my car for meetings and I've yet to see a penny in any mileage costs (which only covers my meetings anyway).

The good times, the shopping, the cocktails and drinks and yummo food all needs to stop now.  I got paid last Thursday.  A week later I have £300 to last me the rest of the month.  This is desperate times.

I've cancelled my monthly saving direct debit. I've also delved into my savings.

From now on... it's nights in. Booze at home. Movies.

And handmade Christmas presents.

:(

Genius.