Right, well i've decided that because i'm going to be doing NaNoWriMo in a couple weeks i need to remind myself how to write a bit, i need to write some more... you know what i mean? it doesn't really matter if you do or you don't because the next chunk of time taken sparingly from my life will be me writing. Whether you read it or not it's not my time to take or use so it doesn't matter does it.

I've decided to write about my job - at the bed and breakfast not the godawful job at the football stadium where i serve alcohol to drunk hooligans and get generally ignored by my co workers and abandoned by the only person who knows my name; there is only so much i can say without becoming bitter and irritated at how shite it is.
Running with my theory you can only write about things in the world you know about, Jordan writing about being a woman with huge endowments and lingerie and plastic surgery and something to do with human emotion which i'm not entirely sure she's capable of... or whatever she talks about, Andy McNab writes about crime and interrogation because he wears a balaclava and knows about terrorism. I'm going to write about my behaviour around old people sleeping in numerous rooms and making smellies in the toilet and not flushing.

Ok, just to confirm, I've logged into the National Novel Writing Month site and am well pleased to see those little round circles saying i've participated two years, failed one year, great story... won the second year, shite story... this year i'm barely prepared, just a daydream i have where i dream about the Gentlemen are chasing around some girl who has a tragic love story gone wrong... not a happy story by any accounts but i do like the betrayal, this year though i'm not telling anyone about my story because a) i told everyone last year and told it so many times when i wrote it, it just came out totally wrong and b) it's a bloody rubbish premise so i'm hoping it's better written down, i'm keeping it all inside until the last possible moment. Plus it has a lot of romance in it and i'm ridiculously bad at writing love stories (even this one which is pretty dark) and it's going to be super duper embarassing...

Right now i'll just write about work to get my head in writing mode, and also so i can get used to writing descriptions, i'm great the dialogue lately but the describing i'm literally crap at.

Writing mode starting... (expect it to be written like a story or something even though i'm essentially just ranting about work) now!:

Slam of the front door. Gulp of fresh air. A hop and a jump across the garden and a leap off the wall and then a full sprint down the hill to the hotel. Depending on my mood it could be a full sprint, the corners do throw me off though and i will skid if i'm going too fast when turning out of the street, this involves throwing my head back and pumping my arms like crazy, my version of a sprint not yours. Sometimes i'll jog like i'm in a film the arms swinging more seductively every step precise and long, as if i was racing to a marooned whale on a beach in Baywatch.

I do like the baywatch run, it's effortless and a bit slower than pelting away... but i look like a tit if anyone sees me; like an old lady in her raincoat with bags ready for a shuffle down to morrisons or the old man who lives five doors down who thinks he knows me because he used to live across the road from my mum when she was three years old. If i'm going slow i hear him shout good morning i feel obliged to reply whereas when sprinting my head is thrown back and the blood is pumping in my ears the wind whipping through my hair makes me temporarily deaf. It's not rude if that is the case.

Normally upon arriving at work i'll glare at the clock in the kitchen declaring myself on time, not a minute later or before it hits the time i'm supposed to be there. Although this morning they had changed the code on the door and i couldn't get in after much slapping of the lock thing so i marched around the side of the hotel to hammer on the kitchen window and shout about them trying to lock me out but was distracted when i heard a voice shout 'hello!' from the sky.

It was Paul, initially 'Boat man,' 'Billberry Man,' or 'Buddha Camp Man' explanations to the names are simple. The first time i went in him room he had a model boat in there. He had billberries with his porridge for breakfast, i was intrigued considering there were so small and watery and i had never heard of them before. Buddha camp was a late addition, he sometimes disappeared for a couple of weeks to go to a Buddhist 'Monastery' where they wake him up to pray at ungodly hours and he gets to tend to the gardens and sweep the corridors... it sounded delightful but he has an austrian girlfriend there who is about twenty years younger than him but has a real lust for life and they got told off for being a bit promiscuous. I don't know, he's about 70 as it is. I don't talk to him about his girlfriend.

He was leaning out his window on the first floor and asked how i was. Fine but i was locked out, had they changed the code?
Oh yes they had he told me, and before i could mention i would get let in round the back, he had scampered off to let me at the front and had brought his diary down to show me where he had written the new code down. I thanked him profusely and then went into the kitchen a minute late and asked if they had changed the code. Oh yes they had and it was never mentioned again, no attempt to tell me the new one. Good thing i had memorised it from Paul's diary!

can't be arsed to write anymore...

songs i've been listening to lots lately :P might get out of hand lol.

Song Format(s): mostly mp3 all itunes compatible

1. Walk On By - Dionne Warwick
ace song, beautiful in every possible way, it's the original version (not the smelly gabrielle one *blows raspberry*) all must hear and love!

2. Rico and the Thieves - Come Over
This is a really local band from around my area which i randomly found and loved and if you like lil english boys playing happy songs about drunk girlfriends it's really worth listening to. for good times and style points ;)

3. Creep - Kermit
It's been up here before i know but it's bloody genius! some amazing person did this and it's just the best cover of any song in the entire universe!!! yeah it's kermit the frog lol wow and the part where it 'changes' from kermit is absolutely hilarious!

4. Overkill - Colin Hay
It's on Scrubs and the bit where it swells and gets all happy and he sings prolonged notes it's hard not to just sing along sing 'it's just overrrkiiiiiiiill' wonderful song :P

5. My Conversation - The Uniques
This is the happiest song ever! it just lulls you along and some happy black guy just sings really happily about how all he needs is good conversation... really crap description but listen to it if you like happy stuff go on!

6. One More Time - Daft Punk
I love all their songs but this is the best dance song EVER!!!

7. Paper Planes - MIA
it took me forever to actually remember anything by MIA but i got lent a cd and realised i loved so many of her songs from places i didn't realise. this one was from the pineapple express advert. loveit.

8. Four Kicks - Kings of Leon
My fave song by them. the video is hilarious and really genius! these guys need loads more credit for making ridiculously catchy tunes.

9. Speed Racer - The Blanks
This is from Ted's band in Scrubs, they are singing the Speed Racer theme, i love that cartoon, my favourite one in childhood i had all the videos, totally forgot the bloody theme tune but now i can sing along to it acapella style! good times!

10. Think About it - Flight of the Conchords
This is the live version which is a million times better than the album one because they get all high pitched and crazy near the end and it's just the passion man! pure genius!

Walking down the street, sun is shining, turned the corner, the bloody door with the irritatingly clear sign is right next to the traffic lights so going through the squeaking black wrought iron gate is quite embarrassing. Not sure why, maybe people in their metallic husks don't look to their left when waiting at a traffic light, they are too busy chanting at the red light 'changechangechange you bastard change some of us have places to go. changechangechange...' and so on. Perhaps people with road rage would do that... Perhaps some one more serene would loll their head a little until it rested on the clearly uncomfortable girl with the grey jacket and messy ponytail creeping into the converted victorian building with the overgrown plantlife choking the fence and green seeping through the paving. She didn't creep but then again how can you be sure, besides you can't be sure what type of people were sitting with the task of waiting for the bulb to flash green. I don't think people were actually looking at how i worked out the door was a push.
The ceiling was extremely high and there was a bubbled window with a light behind it and clattering overhead. It was a reception like room with a desk and too low black chairs and a bell on the desk telling me to ring only once and wait for someone to see me. Behind the desk was a solitary chair and window and a door.
A smiling lady in chocolate brown jacket skirt and eyes appeared, she told me to follow her and wait a little while, she had to sort something out and led me into a room with another high ceiling and cream lacquered walls and a bed with a beige 70s mattress and flowery pillows at the top, it was essentially a big plywood box painted in mahogany. Alarmingly the door had a slide latch on the outside but not the inside, she jammed a chair in the doorway to prevent me feeling claustrophobic and left. There were gold framed pictures on the walls of flowers and a desk with a telephone on.
The smiling lady in brown appeared with another lady who had had short greying hair and a sky blue net like jumper on and stiff plastic reddened skin.
I had an interview and generally nodded and smiled when they went off on one of their tangents about scenarios i had no true comprehension of. From what i heard they get emails as well as phonecalls now, phonecalls are easier apparently, emails sound more complicated. They claim most emails are about suicide, if i was going to commit suicide i don't think i'd take the time to write an email but that's just me.
They asked me why i was there and what made me want to join and having spoken in depth about suicide with me smiling and nodding it seemed quite weird to just say 'My sister tried to kill her self a few months ago.' Having just put my birthday down they realised i had just come of age and determined i felt the time was right and were very sympathetic. I could have lied, it felt like a lie in the face of their sympathy. It doesn't really phase me anymore and has nothing to do with why i wanted to join the samaritans but they assumed because i told them it fit quite nicely. They noted i was young slim and pretty and suddenly looked perplexed as to why i was sitting in that depressing room with them. i just smiled. i did a lot of that.
apparently i'm not allowed to talk about what i hear in the phonecalls when talking to people, i get trained how to deal with it but as long as i don't talk about it in public that would be fine. they told me about occassions when they talked to particularly lost causes.

my job would be to console not to counsel, to listen and not to judge. they told me this was very important, the main importance is i shouldn't in anyway try to influence people's actions or decisions otherwise it might result in their deaths, was the short answer.
the long one made me blink a couple of times and nod and smile and watch the lady's chocolate eyes stare back at me earnestly trying to work out the best way to say 'don't kill people.'
my reply was a simplistic 'okay'.

training is on monday.
they asked me how i'd feel if i was told i couldn't join the samaritans. i told them i didn't mind, they said it didn't matter, i was alright. they liked me. as my mudder told me in the car on the way to work, 'there is no reason for anyone to not like you.' which was nice.
i'd also be the youngest person there, they affirmed there were people in their twenties helping out too.
how strange it will be when they may some day find out i don't believe in God and find human emotion ridiculously complicated that i never try to comprehend it. as a blank canvas just listening will be easy enough i reckon.
i hope the younger people who are going to be there will be nice and happy but not obnoxiously so, i don't understand why obnoxiously happy people would do such a thing so perhaps they'll be as cynical as me or not. i want to help people, i want to hear how it feels to be at the end of your tether and hearing it down a disembodied phoneline might help me further understand it.
i have nothing to lose, nothing to gain... just lives to hear. lives i will never live.
that's what interests me...

Think of the one item in your life you could not do without, and then explain how you would do without it if it didn't exist.

what item could i not live with out, to choose one item would mean first assuming what kind of item that may be... an item could be among things a comestible? an 'item' of clothing, a form of shelter, the 'item' being a roof perhaps... could oxygen and a pillow signify as itinerary to aid with breathing and sleeping but of course me instantly assuming something i can't live without in the form of an 'item' would be something that is intrinsic to my own survival might be taking the subject too far...
the question couldn't just be a case of something i could survive without as it goes on to ask how i would survive without it's existence.
if oxygen would to be absent from the atmosphere then as living things perhaps life would end as it does seem quite essential or perhaps the world would adapt to exist without oxygen existing in a world. we'd all breathe in argon or neon gases or maybe nitrogen, there is plenty of that in the atmosphere.
if food didn't exist we'd subsist off off something else or die... after pondering the existence of the phrase item i reckon something i could not do with out is soap.

i could survive without hygiene but i choose not to.
one thing in the world that makes me more content than my usual nonplussed self is being scrubbed thoroughly clean. nothing feels better than water washing away all the dirt, the sweat, the dead skin... after a shower you feel new and fresh and free, brushing my teeth before i go out puts me in a bright mood.
i can go a day without eating or sleeping and feel perfectly fine but i can't last very long with out having a hot shower.
if all the cleaning itinerary were not to exist and we as humans were fine with just living in our own waste and filth i'm sure i'd become accustomed to that way of life but just being clean is a really good feeling for me.
i could survive without my iPod and my television and the internet as these aren't really essential to life, i can last a day without going on the internet, i have lasted days and i'm sure lots of people in the past have. it's not important, the world seems to use it as some form of crutch to see if everyone in the world is exactly like them and to indulge themselves with no real purpose. yes everyone in the world is alarmingly similar and networking sites and friends are just a way of proving that unsuprisingly that as we all have have about 99.9% of the same DNA the rest of our free will is controlled by television and music and therefore we are all losing what identity we have by relying on entertainment and our own selfish minds to flourish with no true direction. our minute difference in DNA is slowly being drained away by the world around us... no one is different any more... ask a person this question and i have high suspicions that most would immediately say some form of entertainment they could not live with out. if there was no such thing as television i'm sure we'd get by, as well as if there was no such thing as the internet as the past million years have shown.

and don't get me started on iPods... it's another excuse to shut ourselves off from the world, a form of antisocial behaviour, a slight combination with self harm, blasting loud pulsing beats into your ears polluting the air around you with incorrigible premature deafness.

i can't live without soap. being clean is a million times better than being ignorant.
rant done.

if i rubbed a lamp and a genie popped on out and offered me three wishes i would immediately say, before asking for a wish of some sort, i would ask if rubbing normal lamps with bulbs and shades on them also worked when rubbing lamps, were genies trapped in those too?
you rarely actually touch a lamp do you... apart from turning it on and off... unless maybe if you're one of those people who dusts lamps frequently... that would involve rubbing lots of lamps
so my initial question before setting the genie free by getting him/her to grant me three wishes is: 'what kind of lamps must one rub to find another genie so i can wish for more things.' just for future referrence... or maybe i'll be asking myself where i came across a lamp... why does the genie kind of lamp have to be like a stretched out teapot
does rubbing teapots work?

here's the thing... haven't really seriously considered what my wishes might actually be so right now here are the three things i really want right now, not considering anyone but me!

uhh wish 1...
i want £500 million pounds - don't care is the genie is american or european, it's pound or nuttin. and uhh yeah that much is great for me, if i asked for infinity then i wouldn't get anything and 500 million means i'm not too greedy for asking for more.
hopefully the interest will pay for my addiction to dvds and food... the rest can be spent on a sky fortress...

wish 2
if the money won't buy me happiness or a sky fortress then i'll wish for a fully operational sky fortress... or floating continent... or something to that effect... fully operational with a million slaves doing my bidding and the most attractive beautiful people living with me and liking me because i'm rich and can buy happiness with my flying fortress
or sky castle as i want it to be known...

wish 3
i have my money and my fully operational sky fortress... now all i want is... uhhhhhh crud i might just keep the genie around for company after that
but if i was pressed for a wish i'd either 'wish the genie free' as a cop out or i'd wish for some sort of perfect gentleman to come along and whisk me off my sneakers maybe...

oddly enough the only way i'd be able to amass five hundred million pounds and get my sky fortress (and rule the world from it...) would be wishing for them... making finding someone to whisk me out of my sneakers will be a bit more possible
or not
this is me we are talking about... and of course i can't find someone as pretty as christian bale or gary oldman and have a personality that actually fits with mine... unless they disappear when i wake up ¬___¬

'What do you think happens after you die?'
'I don't want to say... Don't look at me like that! I know I have an answer for everything but that's just one of those questions.' A shrug, 'I don't want to commit myself to anything, just in case.'
'You superstitious?'
'No. Just cautious...' A sideways glance and a sip from a glass, 'What about you? It's customary when asking a question to know the answer.'
'Oh...' A raised eyebrow, 'Well,' Leaning back in his seat, 'Wherever it is, I hope it's nice.'
'See! Now that's non-commital. You're just claiming there is somewhere to go.' A quick shudder runs through her, 'I just got a tingle in my leg.' She giggles.
'You alright! Nothing to do with him?' A quick and almost panicked reply, a sideways glance.
'Nah, I'm fine, just a chill.' A slight smile, 'Don't worry about him, he won't be causing any more trouble.'

'Why is there nothing ever on the television?' Sprawled out on a large black leather sofa, a dark haired man his hands clawing the firm corners, feet lolling on the coffee table in front of him, asked a blonde female pottering around the kitchen area behind him.
'You used to be so judgemental when I watched the television.' Grabbing two glasses from the cupboard near her head, making a mock expression of shock, 'You can't do that! It's wrong, don't do that! You-'
'I didn't!'
'You'll get square eyes!' Followed by a loud squawking unforgiving laugh.
'I didn't say that!' He snapped, angrily stabbing at the remote control with his fingers.
'Uh huh... Yeah. No wine either... let's drink the beer from the fridge!'
'Nothing on the television!' A shout of triumph, 'Not one fucking thing!'
'Congratulations, now will you please shut up! The neighbours might hear and they could probably guess this guy doesn't have many friends.' Padding over to the sofa in a tank top and underpants.
'How can you tell?' As she slouches down next to him supplying him with a can and a glass, 'Wouldn't it be easier-'
'Are you fucking kidding me?' Pouring beer from her can noisily into a glass, 'This place screams antisocial bachelor pad.' Taking a sip she sighs sinking into the sofa.
'Can't I just drink it from the can?' Looking at her with pleading glimmering dark eyes.
'No.' Her own pale blue eyes flashing malevolently. 'You gave me the option to refuse you. I say, no.' At this moment they stared at each other for a few prolonged seconds neither willing to drop their gaze.
'Fuck it! I'm drinking from the can.' Putting the glass on the flickering reflection of the television on the glass coffee table.
'Atta boy, standing up for yourself!' Nudging him playfully in the arm knocking his beer can off balance. 'Careful, don't want to stain this couch, it feels expensive... Cushy though.' Her partner nodded at her with a derisive curl in his lip.
The pair sat in comfortable silence watching the flickering television sipping their beer. As they had broken into the apartment and were clearly squatting while the young prosperous businessman who inhabited it was away on a 'business trip', it was only fair that they drank his beer and tried their best not to stain his couch.

He told her it was a bad idea, he always did when they were on the run.
They were always on the run.
Her reasoning was they needed somewhere to stay so why not in a luxury apartment stealing alcohol and cable off a total bastard.
'Karma.' She'd say, 'You're a jackass in life, little fairies come along and make your life a little less comfortable than it should be.'
He pointed out that she didn't know he was such a waste until she had already broken into his apartment slept in his bed and ate the contents of his fridge; then in the morning she had rifled through his belongings and listened to his phone messages discovering he was a total jackass. 'So then I didn't have to feel bad!'
She'd told him where deserving people's homes were and where they could hide and sleep for lengths of time instead of becoming familiar with motels, bed and breakfasts and posh hotels. Staff in those places start to recognise people who make regular visits, 'This way is also cheaper.' She claimed. He reluctantly agreed to this method and decided if they were to stay in in other people's homes he would not watch their television, eat their food or make a mess in any way shape or form; mostly through guilt. This promise relaxed over time...
In his opinion the morality of what they were doing far outweighed the cost of a motel room but she told him to go pay for a bad nights sleep in some smelly room while she lived the high life out of her 'lil green book'.
She had a small cheap acid green plastic bound diary snatched from a stationary shop which she used to scrawl dates of when her 'second, third, fifth, ninth and fourteenth,' homes would be available by looking at calendars and personal effects in her 'homes'. This wasn't a system without it's flaws but it served her well.
He hated her distinct distaste in paying for anything in life, if she could steal, borrow or misplace something with no intention of returning or paying for it then she'd make it clear that was the option she'd rather take. He never understood this, he called her a miser but to little effect as that wasn't what she was and they both knew this.

'Do you believe in God?' He asked her taking a long gulp from his wine glass.
'No.'
'Well... You're missing out!' He sighed running his hand through his cropped charcoal hair.
'I'm not.' She smiled.
She looked at their companion wedged in between them in the small corner seat they had commandeered at the bar the taxi had dropped them off at. They had told the taxi driver to take them to 'any bar' and this was as good as 'any.' Their new friend was silent and rigid with big aviator sunglasses hiding a large percentage of his square face. She turned to her friend who was drinking deeply from his wine glass again. 'What about you then?'
'Yeah, I believe in some sort of God-like thing. You know, something had to make us otherwise we wouldn't be here.' Her eyebrows raised at his satisfied expression from his own answer.
She took in a long breathe, 'I think we're just here, some freak anomaly of nature coughed out life and that's it. A spark of life, totally random. From then on as living things we have evolved into cognitive beings who have waaaaay too much time on their hands in an otherwise lonely empty universe.' She drained her wine glass in half the time it had taken him to drink his. 'You really like saying God tonight.'
Watching her place her empty glass on the table in front of them, 'Waiter can we get the lady a refill please?' He cried snapping his fingers. There was no reply from the quiet sparsely filled bar. He squeezed out of the corner standing in front of the table declaring 'Get them myself then shall I?'
'Stop being an idiot Joe.' She snapped, 'Get me a big glass this time too.'
'Thought you didn't like wasting money.' Joe replied.
'I don't care. He's paying.' She jerked her thumb at their silent companion.

'What the hell are you doing in my apartment!?!'
'Oh fuck...'
'Great plan!'
'Run!'
A tall square faced man in an ashen suit marched into the apartment throwing his suitcase into the kitchen area. The dark haired man dressed only in a faded blue t-shirt and boxers looking startled and frozen stiff as his fair companion sprung over the back of the couch and ran towards the door beside the kitchen where she had left her clothes and belongings in the bathroom. She thanked all the modest people in the world for putting locks on bathroom doors and quickly jabbed the catch as she slammed the door.
'You bastards! Get the hell out of here!'
Joe remain frozen to the couch, the leather felt like it had fused in connection to his own skin and his arms remained locked in their ridiculous position spread across the couch. Perhaps it was because he had been sat in that same position all night after quickly finishing his beer not at all taking in the fact it was imported and expensive. Or maybe the sudden fear of being caught had frozen him completely; high stress situations always terrified him. It wasn't long before he was finally misplaced as the square headed man in the ashen suit had lunged at him throwing him off his expensive leather couch pinning him to the rug and knocking the glasses and beer cans off the coffee table sending them skittering across the floor. He had promised himself he wouldn't make a mess!
'What are you doing here?' His adversary roared leaning over his prey pinning his arms over his head.
A decent reply wouldn't come as blood pumped through Joe's ears the only word he could hear was her instruction, 'Run, run, run, run, run...' pulsed through him and he writhed and struggled under the suit's grip gaining some momentum in his legs he managed to arch his back and throw his assailant off and also headbutt him in the same movement. He scrambled away from the stunned suit and raced towards the kitchen and began hammering on the bathroom door.
'Help! Oh God! Help Cass!'
'Who sent you?' The resident snarled as he fumbled his way into the kitchen clutching his nose with his spare hand the other raking through a drawer.
'Cass! Fucking hell! Seriously!'
'WHO SENT YOU!' The chestnut hairs on the back of his neck rising in fury.
Joe turned around to see the suit brandishing a large kitchen knife, 'Whoa there buddy, no need for that...' Gulp. 'You put that down now... We're not here for any reason... Nothing bad... Come on... Put it-'
The suit lunged.

'How long before we take him home?'
'Dunno, he's been awfully good. Didn't say anything, didn't try to stab anyone. We can take him home in a little while.'
'Good, he's beginning to creep me out.'
'This is all your fault to start with.'
'My fault? You abandoned me!'
'Do you really think if the tables were turned I would have let him get anywhere near a fucking butcher's knife?'
'We won't know will we...'
'Know your surroundings.' He rolled his eyes at her, 'And have an ounce of common sense. Then we might get further without having to take him out to apologise.'
'This is the worst apology I've ever witnessed...' He muttered finishing his, what would appear to be, sixth glass.
'We have to make do. I think it's good, nice drinks, cool people. Good times! Don't look so sad about it. He's a bastard remember.'

'What have you done!?'
'H-he came at me! I didn't know what I was doing!... Oh God!'
'Calm down! Doesn't look that bad...' She inches towards the sprawled out suit laid disguarded on the floor. 'Shit...'
'Oh God... Oh God! I didn't mean to! Fuck!'
'How the hell did you do that?' Suprise and panic in her voice.
'He... He pinned me... He had the knife it was right over my face! Oh God, fucking hell, christ!'
'Yeah... Ok... But how did you get it through his eye?'

'Don't know why you're all worried about God and Heaven anyway, it's not like you're going there any time soon. You're perfectly capable of defending yourself.' A small laugh.
'You... Don't understand...'
'Sure I do... Just never stabbed a guy through the eye.' A shadow of her squawking laugh slightly diluted by the multiple glasses of wine.
A long pause between the pair as their suited friend sat rigid between them.
'Why are we doing this?' Joe groaned his elbows resting on the table his hands clawing his face in despair.
'Just in case, he spent his night out with two random people, got mortally drunk and accidentally fell on a knife in his kitchen...'
Another silence. The bar was practically empty and their table was the only one occupied, the dregs from the night leaning over the bar in drunken stupor. Their friend wearing his huge sunglasses with the table corner wedged against his groin pinning him to the corner seat with a body support on either side, a half emptied glass of wine in front of him.
Joe never liked his companion's plans, they were always so full of flaws, holes and questionable scenarios that always succeeded in disconcerting him.
'We're going to hell.' He muttered slumping against the table, the suited man in sunglasses veering to the left slightly.
'No. We're going back to his apartment, dropping him on the floor, putting the knife back in and leaving.' As if this were the simplest thing in the world.
'Where are we going next?' He sat up steadying his enemy in a past life.
'How about a motel?'

it's a light
a glimmering flicker
speckled shimmers from a distant
it's waning but it's still there

a blinking car light lost in a forest
a lighthouse in shroud of fog
a broken torch
a dying candle
dusted embers of a blazing fire

it's an abandoned faith
a broken heart
a wandering soul

it never leaves you
no matter how lost you may be

last day of school, before exams, last proper school day, me and katherine during that strange buffet the year 12s made us crept up to the resources room in Westburn, a big long computer room in the oldest weirdest building where they keep the first years, me and katherine played our long hidden game
spin around on the spinny computer chairs for as long as we dare then race up to the end of the room dodging disguared chairs and tripping over our own feet and racing back to our chair before the other, double points if your chair is still spinning when you return
the last day, the last thing we officially did together in school aside from leave, then go back for exams and results day...

the day my gran died and i went to a crafts fair and bought a knitted hedgehog and homemade swiss roll before i got the phonecall, my aunt and uncle were doing their best to distract me

17th birthday getting drunk off wine and playing on the wii with my friends, and rolling around on the floor playing with sleeping bags and pillows

16th birthday went to light water valley (theme park with rides) listening to the kooks album laughing at the stupid accents and 'jackie big tits' i never listened to the cd after that lol

taking the cousin down to the beach when we were around 15 and making a sandcastle and every kid on the beach helping us dig water channels for the moat as the tide went out, every kid on the beach had different theories on how to make the castle better and all thought that because we were bigger than them they could advise us, we were the approachable blonde girls who had the young cousin who relished the attention she was getting. every was rushing to fill the moat, buckets spades and all were used to transport water. one little kid wanted to help so much he was running about transporting water with his crisp packet.

last lesson of geography before christmas in year 11, listening to christmas songs cd singing along really loudly and sucking on lollies chatting loudly with mrs charlton about life and holidays and laughing very loudly whilst sitting on the tables and taking a million photos

last summer going on a bike ride at 8am in the morning for hell of it because i wanted to see the world wake up, we had jimmy the decorator doing the front room at the time telling me about pink floyd because they are awesome. went on the bike ride and it was a beautiful morning and the world was just waking up down south shields and i felt totally at peace and sat watching the serene sea and was wearing shorts with no fear of what people would think of my knobbly knees
i spent the rest of the day lying on my bed moaning about my bum pains from the bike seat wedging itself up my arse and eating lots of ice cream

first time i watched donnie darko, it was cheap in the shop and i was convinced it was a comedy so spent the first half not quite sure what was happening and laughing at totally inappropriate moments, i watched it alone so it was even more stupid... then i tried to understand it and really loved it

spending every dinner in year 7 hiding in the library reading the guiness books of world records because i was well cool

november 2007, one of the most crazy months of my life, went to see the foo fighters, klaxons and wombats all in different venues around newcastle and parents going on holiday and us having a full blown house party... some bad memories but definitely unforgettable! the entire street knew and told our relatives who they all think they know...

putting the tent up in the front garden before our exams while parents were on holiday, the neighbours curtain twitching became unbearable as they wondered what they hell we were doing. we hid the remainder of our parents bottle of wine in there before they came back.

seeing that will smith film at the cinema the weekend it was closing, hitch or something, having the entire cinema to ourselves and playing piggyback races and popcorn wars with amanda and dobby, it just started with sitting in our chairs upside down then spiralled out of control, we got away with fricking murder and disturbance of the peace
can't for the life of me remember a thing about the film aside from i didn't care and i fell on the floor when dobby tripped on the stairs whilst giving me a piggyback chasing amanda

going to my grans for a weekend every month and one time when i was four or five just to be different asked her to make me a mushroom sandwich because i was weird and her making me one every time i went there until she died when i was 15 and i couldn't bear to tell her that actually mushroom sandwiches are really slimy and disgusting and not worth eating... she died thinking i liked them which is a bit weird considering i really didn't but i loved her more

dad being called milk bottle by the entertainment reps and barstaff on holiday when we went to majorca, he didn't gain a tan all holiday and pretty much the whole hotel called him it

playing football at ulswater camping ground with my grandparents scottish friends, me always getting a stupid scottish accent by the end of the weekend and my prepubescent self being trampled by swearing grandads trying to kick the ball and score a goal, sitting on the tyre attatched to a chain swinging around until i feel nauseous and eating mini milks in the village of pooley bridge

first time i went out on the town to drink alcohol, it was christmas and i was 16 and i was wearing a tiny skirt and big boots, rhiannon did mine and my sister's make up in the toilet in the pub on the street corner and we were horrified at the alarming difference layers of eyeliner did to our face. it was a confusing night, i remember feeling scared for a good percentage of the time...

my mum racing around trying to work the internet on our old dial up computer and listening to the radio like a mad person when nasty nick in the first big brother cheated and everyone confronted him, this was before the constant live streaming on E4 and i had any interest in it, i was ten and confused then i watched the highlights show with her on the night because i was a big girl and i never stopped watching big brother since...

getting my first proper pet, a hamster when i was 14. he stank and was called brian biscuit henderson which is annoying because mum called brian and we called him biscuit and his actual name was definitely biscuit regardless of the confusion. we fed him actual biscuits and bits of chocolate and black sports mixtures when were bored and i don't want to forget when he was dragging a huge carrot shaped treat the size of himself around his cage trying to jam it up the tubes and take it to bed. he went back and forth nudging it up failing then dragging it to the other side of the cage and trying again. we made hamster mazes with stacks of books and cds and had treats at the end. he always try to climb under or over the walls.

lydia's 18th birthday party at fujiyamas, the chef was cooking the food in front of us and because every time he glanced at me i always said hello he just called me that and i was one of the only two to catch the fried egg in my mouth!

when i was in primary school the teachers thought my handwriting was terrible so i had to learn cursive and i got stuck with the lower year while the rest of my class mates when to play with glue guns and plastic flowers in art class. i hated my teacher and my writing. as soon as i got secondary school i reverted to writing like a four year old.

being the first person in school to get an iPod (it became out of date so quickly and i kept the old thing for four years) and we listened to our music every morning before registration and sang along really loudly even though my dad had forbidden us for taking them into school.

crying when my form tutor berated me for not having my homework planner signed over the weekend weeping it had been a rough weekend (i gave him really rubbish excuses every time) and he came out with a barrage of sarcastic comments which caused me to run out the class crying, he asked my friend what was wrong with me and she told him my grandmother had died over the weekend... oh if only i had seen his face... he gave me a letter to excuse me from lessons if 'things got too tough' which was sweet i suppose, he never said anything rude to me again!

lydia's 17th birthday, water fight/sleepover/go karting in the morning, watched saw that night and ran upstairs to listen to muse with sarah mullin and alex cain while kath slept on the bed room floor

watching the world cup in a portuguese pub while england played portugal. we got beaten and the portuguese spent the remainder of our holiday 'celebrating' irritating my dad to no end. my dad and i went to get pizza from a pizza hut down the marina, he was incensed with patriotic rage (i think) he was whistling the great escape theme to stop him punching jeering locals, i joined in. a fellow englishman walking past called 'i wish it were mate' - weirdest experience with my dad ever...

whenever we went on stage for the mini discos on holiday and were asked where we were from the other children replied england germany etc we said 'seaburn gardens, number one!' no one had any idea where that was

running home from a bar on holiday yelling we beat the germans eins fumfph! totally incorrect english but the effect of the euro cup in a majorcan resort was unbelievably potent as germans were thoroughly annoyed and british were totally thrilled.

faye's house party, her aunt left her to watch her house so faye had a party every night and dyed her younger brothers hair black in the bathtub staining every towel. the party we went to was something i don't wish to divulge many details of but there was a big bowl filled with 'shit mix' which was every alcoholic substance in the house thrown in which was black and slightly peach smelling which everyone had several cups of each and became paralytically drunk off.

i'm still alive... how strange!
i either felt the need to update on here or OD just to catalogue that i have no disappeared off the face of the earth in the past few months

if anything my position on the earth has only become more glimmering than usual, the point of stasis i am in means that there is no way i can ever be wiped off the earth anymore as for some strange reason i feel more like a real person
and because i've turned 18 i am part of the big real weird world... when i was younger i chose to ignore this world but now i'm going to university and am having my bank account converted to an adult one which includes a debit card and taxes maybe...

my point being now i'm an old woman it would be much harder to wipe me off the face of the planet and in some ways that makes me feel quite happy but in other ways it makes me feel trapped but i think i'm more happy than sad... i think... maybe i'm not
one thing i've yet to get used to is figuring out exactly how i'm feeling
i've never quite managed it and never really wanted to pinpoint how i feel about anything, i just like being what i am and just accepting that
i don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing

it's really confusing when i decide to yell at someone for no reason but for the most part that's what most people in my house do when we're peeved. sometimes i wonder, hey i'm yelling and being incredibly rude and i have no real reason, maybe i should stop, maybe i should wipe this condescending glare off my face, maybe i should apologise... i normally push my bad mood as far it will go then tire of it and eat some chocolate and watch friends
problem is my parents and sister are quite susceptible to bad moods and it can whip around the house faster than me brushing my hair in the morning (i forget usually to brush my hair...)

i get over things fast and i don't become attached to things unless i have a really good reason like 'this watch is amazing, it has the time on my wrist, i don't have to rummage in my pockets for my phone and grab that to tell the time, this is amazing! i'm never taking it off!' or 'this phone is amazing! it sends me messages from people who rarely message me back and it rings when my dad wants to get in touch with me and i never know because it's on vibrate and my thighs of steel can't feel it so he gets concerned and shouts at me for being ignorant and in lala land. i must never leave the house without it.'
only really useful or pretty things i get really attached to.
like christian bale. it's not just because he's pretty though, it's because i admire the fact that he nevers gets topless for a sex scene. (unless he's going to kill or torture his partner before or after)
it leaves a slightly large amount to the imagination which is handy for when i daydream about what it would be like if i was in the big brother house (more boring) or how my parents would react if i brought home a homeless busker with an ear missing... (they'd hit the ceiling then the roof then the moon i assure you.)

oh right the important stuff! is anyone going to actually read this ramble i wonder?
i got into university! hooray! i needed BBC to get in and when i went to get my results it had a post-it on (possibly the most bizarre and brilliant things ever invented) telling me to see the head of year. having not looked at my results it's fair to say in her blunt brisk manner it was quite shell shocking to be told "right so you didn't get into your first choice... or your second! go check on that UCAS site that tells the truth and tell me if you got into university so i can tick you off my on endless list that will hopefully prove nearly everyone got into university in this 6th form college. look at me. just go upstairs to the computers and stop looking so upset! go!"
i may have embellished the middle bit as she didn't need to say that i could tell from her ticking off everyone on her massive list but she did say the last bit which i really did not appreciate.
i got CCC it turned out and on the computer site it told me my second choice Northumbria had accepted me. i'm pretty sure what i was feeling was disbelief until my parents took me for a meal and i had three vodka and cokes and suddenly everything melted away and i just felt cheerful and relaxed and didn't particularly care anymore.

more drinks were drunk and i went out with my friends to celebrate and i got hammered, i think my thoughts had been throughout the day i need to be unconcious so fair to say i drank enough to do that... i kind of wish i hadn't and what i do remember of the night i'm damn embarassed about but i think everyone has to go waaaaaaaaay over their limit at one point and i took that waaaaaaay and stretched it a little bit further just for good measure.
my hangover and forgetfulness ensured me i didn't want to remember that night or bother with it so i'm not going to.

i got a laptop for my birthday, it's great for playing solitaire on and looking at the big brother site when the whoever in our street has unrestricted wifi connection goes on the internet and i can use it too, or me and my sister go to the pub and order cokes and sit with our laptops and get berated by drunk charvs.

also been watching a bajllion dvds for no reason aside from some days can be wasted really well if you have about four dvds you've never seen before and just sit in front of the really big television and eat cereal and microwavable noodles and watch them all... i don't just do that with my life, i also watch the olympics sometimes, the cycling is much fun to witness!

what else can i ramble about...
oh yes my other job, i always said how much i love working the hotel meeting all these different people and having a random peek into their lives, yes i thoroughly enjoy being a bed and breakfast chambermaid even if the pay is crap
now i've got a job at the stadium of light (sunderland's football pitch) which is equally crap pay equally crap hours without the look into people's souls and instead i wear a baseball cap and baggy polo shirt and give already drunk football supporters bottles of fosters. the tricky part is getting the caps off, i have to ping them off before giving them them, then they fizz all over or splash me in the belly and i get all soggy usually. it's a stupid job but someone has to do it. they are a rowdy bunch and sing very loudly.
the happy fat lady who runs our area and has specific favouritism for our bar told me it's mad and crazy but it's a lot of fun and i felt like saying - 'no it's not that fun really, they are all drunk and stupid and stare at me for long unnerving periods of time when i can't work the till'
aside from that i still need another job so bummer there.
i don't think i could manage three jobs, it would be ultimately depressing when i get to university and have to do that too.

anything else going on in my life i really feel the need to stick on the internet?
i bought hair removal cream the other day which i slathered over my legs and waited expectantly for my hair to just drop off... it worked mostly... it's better than shaving in which i always manage to savage myself when doing.
i managed to take a chunk out of my ankle when doing it last time and declared there must be a more humane way of getting rid of hair on my bloody legs! the term bloody was really appropriate considering my ankle was haemorrhaging all over a bath towel at this point.

now i really don't want to finish this with a stupid story about me slicing and dicing my leg and coming up with a more humane solution, it's seem really ridiculous now...

oh yeah the sister has a cold
oh and my birthday was alright, except for Aunt Sheila who i was sincerely worried about causing a scene managed to do so spectacularly
my annoying great aunt has a new party trick when she's inebriated, she slaps her husbands bum and he burps really loudly and groans... it's a really interesting trick but it was a bit smelly and i was slightly drunk and delirious from gaining another year and i was sitting in utter awe and shock at the display... she thought it would have more of an effect if she did it repeatedly with increasing speed and laughing manically while doing it... the pair of them disturb me when i wonder what they do when they are alone and wrinkly...
not one member of my family is sane
not one!

right that story is worse than the hair removal lesson... i'm going to stop now before i disturb anyone who has gotten this far.

i feel asleep although i'm sure i'm awake
my hands are these big pale spiders with minds of their own mottled with scars and moving muscles beneath them... they happily tap at the blackened keyboard and blue veins beneath stretched cold skin continue to pulse with life...

i like seeing houses filled with memories... houses with cabinets full of smiling creatures caught in porcelain shapes or faces in glass sheaths grinning in past eras, happiness crammed into a single memory with no recollection of the monotony before and after such events.
i like carpets with confusing patterns and flowers and walls that reach the sky in never ending shapes and squiggles, cushions with garish plants, rugs with faded blocks of colour, tables with glass surfaces underneath films of dust and piles of papers on every surface...
it makes me feel safe to see every article of someone's life with them at all times... home isn't where the heart is, it's where your life is condensed into a small area where everything that means anything is there with you, guiding you along, recalling your time on this earth for you.
postcards with well wishses from past adventures
books that have numerous creases in the spines
toys with frayed stitching and unstable plastic eyes

i'm a sentimentalist when it comes to possessions
they are constant and tangible, they don't move or breathe
they are always there, they don't cry or leave...

today is the dreaded day that constitutes to show just how americanized our culture has become
we call it prom
it's also known as the leaver's do
the 6th form ball
etc etc etc

and here's what happened!
let's remember it was the joining of two catholic schools - segregating boys and girls - and really we should just be nice to eachother...
no pictures as of yet because the computer won't access them on my phone
they are a bit naff anyway you can't see much apart from rhiannon's tattoo on her back and the ceiling of the marquee
- they weren't taken when anyone was drunk there just wasn't much going on then it got dark and i didn't have a flash on my 'camera'

got hair and make up done, got dressed, went to the rosedene, got the coach, got to the big tent

went around the tent after knocking back a glass of champers and greeted and acknowledged everyone i knew. everyone was very nicely dressed, me and anjali managed to see nearly all the people we both had in common.
sarah mullin told me i had a really nice neck which i appreciated but i didn't understand - i didn't realise she literally meant my neck i thought she was joking...
then we sat down for our starter and clarkey gave me a crash course in etiquette. i made my melon and pineapple starter into a smiley face as i was bored and i kept nudging the bits i didn't want on to clarkeys plate who ate mechanically and didn't notice how her plate didn't seem to be emptying.

then a bit more wandering and i went to the bar for a bacardi and coke which i asked for a double and he half filled my glass with each and charged me £6.50 for it - bastard.
at the table there were bottles of red and white wine, me and anjali tentatively drank the white wine which was quite sweet but generally cheap and nasty

after the main course the flood opened and pretty much at that point everyone started getting drunk
i can't be bothered to detail every single moment of the night as i got quite drunk and it's all in small disjointed occurences rather than a long stream of things

i know that laura brown had brought her own bottle of vodka and drank it all then went to the toilet passed out and was taken away in an ambulance - a girl who wasn't associated with her but was caring for her blatantly accused us of drugging her which i found quite rude

kellie and clare were sniffing my chest as they claimed i had chicken fillets in therefore i smelt of chicken - i wasn't wearing any.

rhiannon sent me on a mission to get the rory's ribbon. rory was her ex whom she has held in great contempt for years now and he was wearing a kilt and a ribbon in his hair and would talk to me and not her. i got drunk and pestered him all night for it, in the end i got it and then gave it straight to rhiannon before i left. it was an achievement even if drunken me did feel some guilt. sobre me thinks it's all really stupid to be fair...

there was a guy, one of rorys mates, who claimed he knew me and basically fell on me. turns out we got the metro together to the bus station every morning together and with a bottle of wine in his hand he finally had the courage to say hello.
it was alright apart from the fact i was basically holding him up. he told me to try this lovely white wine he'd found, i had a gulp and told him it was red. 'oh yeah! it's red. it's awful...' and he fell on me again.
it was sweet and he was one of the only boys i had a lasting conversation with - if you can call it that - who didn't try to cop a feel

it was raining outside so the smokers were all getting a bit wet and some even had come across cigars

when wandering around with clare, who i did spend some time with chatting and getting drunk with, i showed her the mythical 'john' who me and her liked to repeat the name of when the moment struck us. he had a really pretty girlfriend.
we also had an issue getting into the toilet because laura was being taken away so we had to go to the hotel. this resulted in us yelling at the doorman and staggering down the private quarters of the bar into the nearest toilet which i thought was disabled. it was womens, we were fine.

later on i met the previous english teacher at our school turn english teacher at the boys school. i was worried about katherine as i hadn't seen her for a while and he told me all about his sister who was 20 and got pregnant and he told me to just fuck it and leave her to her own doings.
it was quite articulate for a drunken english teacher. actually i lie. he wasn't at all.

ok now i suppose i have to confess my sins
not so much sins as drunken idiocy, which i'm always susceptible to. who did i kiss this time? there was a two called tom and henry, the first was a bit of a stoner and followed me around for a while and i kept running away from him because he claimed he knew where i lived. he was also rachelle's ex and apparently a bastard and she told me to run away from him. the second was a right perv and generally kept trying to cop a feel while i kept him at arms length. i had a very long skirt on there was no way he was getting up it but his hands thought they could get through it. i mamaged to get away from him and he got bored of trying to find me and tried it on with someone else.
i also kissed clare and some other random boy who was very sweet but i never saw him again afterwards which was irritating.

katherine disappeared and camille simon and clare tried to help me find her which involved us all removing our shoes and running around grass
katherine looked very pretty with her hair curled and whatnot ;)

as ever i engaged in uncomfortable embarassing conversations with pretty much everyone i sat down next to and i lost my shoes which katherine found and then i found her missing shoes - sisterly love!

that's pretty much all i can recall, it's much longer than i expected
it was alright i suppose
katherine described it as a really expensive naff house party
i think that describes it quite well, it was expensive and there were too many people
i ve had cheaper better nights out lol

wow
i am a totally lame updater on here... in my defence since christmas my computer had a spazz attack and over loaded from memory overload or something
it's probably my fault but it turns out it was really my graphics crazy sister who clogged up the cogs of the pc with all her stuff

she's called kisswithatear and i m giving her free advertisement because she s in the room and she'll hurt me if i say something too bad about her

we bought some tangy apples today
just a couple of blonde twins with tangy granny smiths, the sun shining, the world glowing, our hair has begun it's increasingly weird transition into a more golden platinum blonde as the weather brightens up

my mum said, you're as beautiful as kate moss, nicole kidman all those people! she says this every time she is drunk and to be fair aside from a slightly similar shade of hair i have very little in common facially to those two people who couldn't look any more different if they tried
i don't trust my mum when she's drinking anyway, she's sings really loudly and her voice retains a high pitched tone which makes talking to her possibly one of the most irritating things on the planet, she has the tendency to let out long prolonged wails when she doesn't get her own way
so if i say 'no mum, i m just blonde skinny and have a huge conk' she replies with a 'nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.... you're not.'
it's not really that convincing

i'm always digressing about my mother
it'll come back to haunt me when i have children and consistently embarass them whilst inebriated

i ve run out of time - have to dash to english lit - curse the school computers...
well the prom is tomorrow and i m cautiously - what's the correct word - dreading getting in the skin tight dress and sandals i have deigned to acquire

good times folks :)

My mum was concerned that she had groin strain yesterday morning, along with it a sense of hilarity descended on the house.
I know it's not fair to laugh when you're mother; the woman who surprisingly enough went through the process of childbirth without using any help and didn't complain once - i wouldn't know, i wasn't there for most of it; but of course, when she comes out with the statement she has ripped a muscle most commonly achieved by footballers and athletes you can't help laugh a little bit.
She was trawling through her medical book, demanding that i look it up on the internet to prove it, i can't say i'm sure of how she managed to strain her groin from picking up the paper and wandering around until 11am in her dressing gown, but that was put to rest when she also declared she had bunions and everyone must look at her feet immediately.
This all began when she felt a spasm in her groin that caused her a moment of discomfort would be my assumption, i could be incorrect but it would be wrong to deny me my opinion.

We ended up going on Diagnoseme.com, it's the most comprehensive quiz i have yet to take in my entire life and i do plenty of myspace quizzes; so with mum standing behind me barking out answers and screeched when i clicked on low tolerance to other people and alcohol, she agreed that her anus does itch occassionally though... we haven't finished the quiz yet but with any luck there'll probably be something more horrendous than any of us could ever have imagine wrong with her.
It might take a week to complete but i'm willing to go the whole hog just so we can discover what is truly wrong with my mum.

My point?
Getting there.
When my mum has a cold, it's the flu.
When my mum has a headache it's a migraine.
When my mum is dizzy it's a week in bed.
When my mum has a chill its chilblains.
When my mum has a pain it cannot compare to any pain in the world, it is excruciating, usually unbearable, no one could possibly comprehend it apart from her.
When my dad was diagnosed with a possible case of Legionnaires syndrome it was alarming when my mother was concerned she might have contracted it.
There is a pattern i assure you; or am i insulting your intelligence by assuming you can't see it. it's so blindingly obvious to me my mother is a hypochondriac that sometimes this theory is lost on others.

Back to the point!
If we are looking at the old revenge tragedys or any tragedy of old, then the hero will always find they have a fatal flaw which will impede their trials considerably ,just because, well, they have issues or can just be plain wankers in my opinion.
Maybe that is my mum's fatal flaw; her insistence on illnesses that can be quite disturbing. It could be something else. Not the fact she was/is a nurse and always consults her medical book when something is wrong. I think it would be an insult to her to leave out her general vendetta against 'common people', much unlike pulp she does not want to live like them, or be with them, or be assosciated with them, yet she is one.
i'm not going to go into great detail about it, but this can be all traced back to her upbringing; my grandfather sent her to elecution lessons when she failed to talked properly in her youth. (i don't think it worked when she swears loudly and frequently, but she has an admirable phone voice so it must have on some levels.) Scenarios like this must have impressed some ideals and fears and flaws into her, i believe instead of the word impressed, pounded would be more suitable but i wouldn't know.Grandad is a wonderfully delightful man but always gives hugs that are on the wrong side of bonecrushing and smells of goats and codliver oil, he doesn't show any signs of being a tyrant but he must have been...

So my other point would be, we are doomed to contract our flaws in life from our parents it would seem.
I don't know why but from my parents i can't seem to determine my own fatal flaw, everyone has them and i'm not going to say i am flawless as i most certainly am not, but which out of the plethora of insignificant flaws is the fatal one? It should be the one that sticks out the most out of the bunch, but none do really, i do plenty of things that can be traced back to many of my, i'll admit it, quite amusing, flaws. That's just me though, i think they are quite funny.

Yes, we've come to the part of this seemingly endless essay, where i talk about myself.
I have no idea how the world sees me sometimes, most times; and a good percentage of the time i don't really want to know; i don't care, or just don't want to care.
This, i suppose can make it hard to decide where the fatal flaw lies as i don't wish to know what people think of me.
Alright we'll start with my ocassional skittish behaviour.
It's not a bad flaw but it is one i've come to notice.My funny one. This can apply to more than one of it's meanings, i can be shy and coy and also restless and nervous, but the main flaw i am looking at is the latter.
It's not an extreme aspect of my character but living in this house; it's hard to be alone for a moment, a minute, without pricking your ears to ensure there are no raised voices. I could be called upon to run a bath for my mother, put the washing on, i could have done something wrong and may be summoned to be yelled at even though the likelihood is it's not worth screaming about, there could be raised voices as the family engage in a new argument, a new lively debate, a new excuse to shout and berate eachother whilst the neighbours sigh and stuff their ears with cotton wool balls; i'll assume this because of the paper thin walls we share with them.

It kind of brings upon you a weird sense of a twitch, i can't listen to loud music in my ears at home, or anywhere, because i keep fearing i'll not hear something important, especially if the parents are having an argument, if i miss that i wouldn't forgive myself. It's interesting to listen to, i always duck down and listen at the door and find myself laughing at their heated attacks on one another. and notice when they can't blame eachother (they never blame themselves) they blame the girls, so me and my sister are rallied up to be yelled at some more.
I don't like that bit but as long as the argument steers away from us it's normally quite humorous.
This leads to many other flaws.
For example, i don't like to know what other people think of me, as my parents have a low opinion of me and i can't say anything heartfelt to them without it being thrown away casually with a laugh from them, or a harsh comment about how mum's life is worse, much worse. This is one of the reasons why i detest talking about feelings which i've already explored as something i'll just have to live with over the years.
A flaw for some, a flaw for me, i can't talk about feelings but can't stand empty silences so find myself talking about the most mundane things; everyone knows everything about my family, they are easy to talk about but no one really cares that much. Or trees if i'm floundering.
Another flaw stemmed from my skittish behaviour would be the constant need to be completely aware of my surroundings, when i'm walking along a street everything must be examined; all must be taken into account, and i can never step on a line or a crack in case i break my spine or back, all i examine, except for people, i can't look at them.
If really stressed or upset, i must have a plan laid out in my mind calculated to the minute which i must follow or face certain death; or so my mind plays it out to me, i don't follow it oblivion follows. These plans of attack calm me down, but if they are disturbed by an eruption of another argument, or any outer influences, it can send me quite literally to the brink of whatever sanity i believe to have; or i just cry.
Most flaws can be stemmed from my family life so i assume mine can be done from this, as it has been shown.

One flaw that can not be stemmed from blood relations would be a fear of abandonment, this would involve discussing feelings at great depth and that would be as easy for me as solving the most complicated of algebra problems as i can't really understand anything about what happened to me; it can be understood as just basically loosing my closest friend then finding myself in uncharted waters not having one person to confide my life upon as they chose someone else.
So pretty much from then on i've been searching for someone whom i can mould to be that missing link in my life. I 've always wanted more than anything just someone to be with me no matter what, at all times, and not run when i get stressed out or annoyed, someone who i can just talk to whenever, and always be able to count on to be there just for me.
i can't be entirely sure if i have found this, my current friends are more than i deserve as they are just plain wonderful but i suppose my constant search for someone to be my number one makes me yearn for a boyfriend or just someone to adopt as a 'best' friend.
They tell eachother everything.
Even feelings.
And although i ardently adore my friends to no end, i still haven't managed to throw myself over the hurdle of comfortably talking about feelings and they haven't found themselves being able to trust me implicitly, i used to think.
secrets could be used to gain trust on my quest to find a friend, but i realised after a long period of time they are to be held and kept and i find myself much better at not saying anything about things.

i congratulate myself when i successfully manage to not say anything about certain things in my life.
i congratulate myself when i don't tell everyone i know if something happens in my life i feel to be significant.
i congratulate myself when i keep my opinion to myself and don't say it out loud in case it hurts someone or annoys them.

i'm finding myself more and more as i grow up how little i want to be like my parents, especially my mother.
perhaps someone could tell me any other obvious flaws.
i think my fatal one is i can't make my mind up, i don't know what i want, and i spend so much time mulling over all oppurtunities that are gone, the 'what ifs' and i'm alone.

wow i do go on far too much don't i!

is it alright to openly name the main character of my nanowrimo?
i just can't contain my anticipation anymore
boredom brings forth so many new and exciting oppurtunities and calling my character thusly was just a stroke of creativity whilst trawling through an english essay

i think the name makes him sound like a bit of a pansy but in fairness i haven't decided whether he will be subject to the conventions of his name, i might make Quentin Lovelock the most daring cavalier chauvinist ever to grace my frenzied typing skills or just a wet blanket
we'll just have to wait and see
one thing i can openly admit was that i was listening to Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon when i came up with the idea for my story so it's going to be a bit... of everything lol

i have yet to come up with my female character's name
she'll be probably less chauvinistic than Quentin mainly because she is a female heh

wow i can not for the life of me finish my personal statement at all, i really should try before November begins or i'll never get it done, i have to show an enthusiasm for the subject or the university won't care how many times i have helped out at parent's evening and done charity events
i always wanted to go to Bristol but that's too far away, Newcastle's Tarrif is too high so i m resigining to a fate at Northumbria
i love Northumbria as much as i love Newcastle but at the same time it's that issue where i always want that one thing i can't attain, i'll never get in there lol
thinking about the boy makes me ill with nerves now...

darn the english education system, why can't we just mosey on into the institution we wish to be manacled to for four years and just have fun at freshers week and just... blah, have fun? University had better be worth this stress...

it's hard to write one
it's hard to know which university i want to go to
but i m pleased i finally found a darn tariff table
it's hard to concentrate when i have maria asking me what to put on her theology/spanish personal statement
i have no idea

i haven't even managed to write my own
but i m feeling hopefully
i'm predicted all Bs and i'm aiming at really low new universities hoping they will later gain prestige and be quite good years after i leave so it'll give me some oomph
it's just picking between northumbria and sunderland
both quite dire choices really


history
why do i like history...?

if i hear maria's shrill voice enquire as to what on earth she should write one more time i might just do the whole thing for her and go into great description about how she enjoys bathing in pig swill and spitting in paint pots
that's unfair but she claims i m smart and every word or phrase i came out with she used and when i read the whole thing through they didn't fit in context at all, it was, although amusing, quite infuriating, fine i did english fiiiiine

anyhoo english lit was very good
we watched Hamlet tape, it's quite disturbing and i intensely dislike the peroxide blonde prince but it's alright, i appreciate my teacher for being strict and well meaning, it makes the lessons so much more bearable and i can concentrate more

oh i have a paragraph for my personal statement

History is a search for answers from past events, it has evolved into an analysis of society not only the paths taken by kings, history is no longer just his-story; now at university one can look at the development of many different aspects of society; I find this outlook on history extremely intriguing and wish to further my studies at university to further delve into the history of the world.

it's dreadful isn't it!

well that bridge is offically burned
gone down in flames so to speak
i ended it with him
couldn't take it for much more
we were friends
i was drunk
it didn't mean much
didn't mean anything
i was trying to determine if it did mean something but i have not mourned the passing of our relationship at all
it was a week long
stupid really when you think about it
there was barely any time to work it out for sure
but that's not it
there was nothing there and there was no point to me

i m so damn tired

i need my brain examined
today was rather interesting for two reasons
i bought a flower on the way to town, it's like one of those yellow sunflowers that you see everyone with, it s one of the most handsome flowers i ve ever seen
my hand clasped around it all day, it was so yellow and i bought a bunch of glowsticks and my hair was curcly
second reason being it felt like a really cheap movie being replayed twice in a modern twist - in the book we're reading in english there are two endings, a victorian ending which is happy and wholesome and a modern ending that is ironic and distressing for everyone involved
its the modern one if you're wondering
it wasn't ironic for me as it was for him...

got my flower and went to the town and met everyone
and then me kath, nathan anth jonny and alex bummed around the town for a bit meeting with chris getting glowsticks and we all went to subway and ate and played cards
then went to the park and played cards
there was an intense snap tournament at one point
clare appeared and we all had a good mooch
in the end alex walked off after i spent pretty much all day not knowing what to say around him, feeling generally uncomfortable and out of place with him near me
he was upset
i got that
they told me to go after him and talk to him
what would i say?
i made a long winded point about me being drunk which actually involved much reminiscence about past drunken escapades and after much chuntering and babbling around not getting to the point i made it quite subtley
people ask me out when i get drunk and i don't remember, if i find someone near me when i m drunk i latch onto them and that's it, their lips belong to me
alex was the unfortunate victim of this issue i have with my drunken loose lips, normally this is crossley and he thinks very little of it, or just nothing at all... others get different ideas
he asked me out and i was confused and said yes

he s my friend
we ve been that way for years
and the replay is of a time when i asked him out and he told me he'd think about it
we went to the beach all together the next day and he ignored me and avoided me all day and told me a few weeks later he didn't think it was a good idea

in short what happened today can be justified
but it wasn't nice
it made me feel awful
maybe the reason i dislike alex right now and general commitment aside from being labeled a commitment phobe by kath is because i just don't wany anything too heavy... crossley, we smooch we carry on we gnaw eachother's skin etc and then in the morning its left
no awkwardness or nothing
its liberating
it's simple
no strings attached
when i m feeling lonely i want strings to be attached and i want us like puppets to dance a happy jig but i think just the general thing is i dislike him when i m sobre and i lust-love him when i m inebriated but that's alright isn't it...

i don't want to know actually
having it written down makes it more clear... or not... alex is in the friends zone and crossley... he hasn't gotten to that point yet
everyone thinks i m awful
i think i m awful
i wholeheartedly agree about awfulness

i have a boyfriend
can't believe it
i should though
( talk about bad timing... )

that entire album is one mind bending soul soothing manic presentation of life and death and the beyond

great gig in the sky is awesomeness
the people talking on the track are geniuses, they were given questions to answer the most iconic statements came from the irish doorman
Apparently Paul McCartney's bandmate Henry McCullough contributed the famous line "I don't know, I was really drunk at the time." (Apparently in answer to the question "Why does anyone do anything?", which immediately preceded it.)

i adore this answer
great gig in the sky is supposed to be about death
its the most fantastic song in the universe