Dirty

I feel sambuca shots and malibu dirty.

Luckily i only have two hours of work today and i've only got the youngest to contend with. I recon i'll just strap her in her buggy and go for a wander, go dip her in the fountain on the market square or something.

Then home, to watch amelie and 9 1/2 weeks. Work 9.30 - 2.30 tomorrow. Cinema 8.15. Can someone please tie me down long enough to write up this lab report.

I feel pretty sketchy today. And a little lost.

Shit.

I highly recommend this song today.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vu_3RS2rO78

Songs in my head...

Fleet Foxes - White Winter hymnal
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KCzIw4W7fdQ

Florence + The Machine - Dog Days (STILL!)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s0ZPTFfpO40

The Beautiful South - A little Time
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ttuA1UEUAI0

and the original "Don't marry her" by the beautiful south (blue is the colour album)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SHnhMvSxOf0

Plus i really love the florence + the machine album cover.

Catch up

Where to start, where to start.

Quick Run down;

• Working with the Italian family 3 days a week - popped into the castle bar after work on friday to say hey to Russ, ended up staying longer than intended whilst waiting for R
• Who is a crazy scary stalker who needs to cool it - walking past the shop the guy you're simply fucking, works in, TWICE, is insane. I, myself, felt like a stalker.
• Went for Pizza at Rescue Rooms and discussed David, stalking david and other david related activities.
• She tried to force me to stay out (incase david asked her to join him in town. sigh.) I refused to drink, there was no point. The night was going nowhere. R ordered a vodka and coke and i ordered belgian waffels and ice cream. She wasn't impressed.
• Watched the end of six feet under. Had the laziest of lazy days yesterday. I didn't leave my bed all day. I started to smell. It was fantastic.
• Carboot sale this morning, made over 50 quid and burnt my back. It's unbelieveably hot today.
• I've spent most of my spare time over the past 48 hours watching films, swapping music with J and singing far to loudly and somewhat theatrically to the beautiful south "A little time" over and over. Followed closely by the dirty dancing soundtrack... hair brush in hand and all. I'm not at all bored of myself yet.

I've clocked my hours for this week and i appear to be working a measley 13! Which is fine, seeing as i worked myself into the ground last week (plus i still need to finish this lab report). Going to see Gigantic at Broadway on Tuesday with J. Greggs back. Samantha's on for drinks. Hollys gone awol so i need to chase her up (last time i saw her she'd lost atleast a stone along with her prick of a boyfriend). Rachael's back. And i have atleast 10 films to work through.

and i'd like to add...

... that in hindsight i'm not actually that angry at John, but at R for telling me and the other R's involvement (far too many R's). In reality, i expect nothing less from John, after all theres a reason i no longer wanted to be with him. He can flirt and fuck who he likes,(i'm pretty sure he always has anyway). I certainly am and i lie safe in the knowledge that what i'm getting is far better than whatever he's getting.

Some six feet under i think :)

Fantastic.

I've just spent the past 15 minutes avoiding an argument with my ex. I admit that I irrationally called him a cock but it was fuelled by R. She told me on the phone that (the other) R has spoken to him on facebook and that the conversation turned dirty when John mentioned his cock. Now, why R thought it necessary to tell me this, i don't know. After all i didn't tell her when her ex shared with me that he shaves his balls. Ignorance is bliss! She would have surely known that by telling me this, it would hurt me. It wouldn't make me like him anyless or hate him anymore, it just makes me hurt. There was just no point. I was happily alphabetising my record collection (followed by dvds and books) until she shared this nugget of information.

Well, almost happily. John had spoken to me earlier and managed to winde me up considerably. He's throwing a party with Joe Dempsey next weekend (yes you hear me right, chris from skins). So that's great. Fucking fantastic. Rub it in.

On a brighter note i'm eating my fish pie (which was going swimmingly until i just dropped my fork on the floor) and i bought more dvds. This weeks buys include;

One flew over the cukoos nest
Crash
This is England
Cassandra's Dream
The boy in the striped Pyjamas
Little Miss Sunshine
Amelie
Notes on a Scandal
9 1/2 Weeks
Twelve Monkeys

I've temporarily "forgotten" my internet banking password. That way i can't tell exactly how overdrawn i am. Perfect

Platonic

Yesterday was a long day. Work 9 til 6 and then to the cinema to see the 8 o'clock showing of the new Transformers (Huge anti-climax).

I'm only working 10.30 til 12.45 which hardly seems worth the effort. I'm contemplating calling Gregg. Which is even more effort. Rekindeling our friendship has been on the bottom of my list for a while now but i feel compelled to contact him. It's been over a year since we actually saw eachother and i'm pretty confident he's got over the awkwardness of the pass he made at me last summer. Maybe it is completly possible to go back to our Will and Grace-esque friendship and keep our dirty little hands to ourselves. I certainly will have no problem.

At present i'm highly resentful of the fact that i no longer have my own flat. Sex under my parents roof is somewhat of a chore (although pulled it off pretty well and with no mention of it this morning from the rents... yet). I've got atleast a year of this, i better just get used to it.

Mums just offered me a lift in to town, she's heading to the jobs center, in order to take her up on her offer i'd have to get up now, right now. Ugh.

As in NOW. GO!

The stars say...

My blogging attempts have been pretty pitiful of late. I can't seem to focus on one thing long enough to pull together one simple blog. Quite honestly i don't know where to start. Plus my daily blog has been replaced with my by daily inboxing to Jamie, often by hourly.

My writings going nowhere. I can't seem to put pen to paper when i'm reading such an amazing book (The time travellers wife). My own writing feels bland and 2 dimensional. I'm working on it. Inbetween episodes of six feet under and chapters from my book.

My assignment is still sat untouched on my desk and today my horoscope does not give me an out (Sunday 21st horoscope encouraged a healthy amount of procrastination), today it tells me to prioritise. I should really stop reading this bullshit.

Dog Days are Over

About to start my second week of the summer block work. Which is exhausting. A small kid, about 13, told me that i had a nice arse and offered to buy me a Mcflurry from mcdonalds on friday. I don't recall trying to pull on school trips.

Me and J held film night on friday and i have to say we pull film night off pretty well. Leon, followed by el sexo y lucia (if i recall correctly) and then a film on sky around 2 in the morning which looking back could easily have been porn. We went to bed sometime around 5 with our bellies rumbling and discussing food and fell asleep sometime around 6, maybe even 7. We slept on and off until 2 in the afternoon and then J dropped me off in town on his way to work.

I tried to take a nap in the afternoon, R wanted to go into town. I caught the 7.06 bus and found myself catching a cab home shortly after 10.30. R was upset about D who seems progressively less interested as the days go on. Plus a guy had called her a slut in Rescue Rooms and i think herself esteem was at an all time low. I'd just downed atleast 7 shots and new that give it another 10 minutes i'd be uncomprehendable and unable to console her. So i suggested we call it a night. As a result i ended up a lot drunker on my arrival home than i was leaving town. I vaguely recall wandering into my parents room to enquire as to what they were watching, it looked of relative interest and i proceeded to wedge myself between the pair before mum suggested i go to bed.

It was then that R rang to discuss D further and puzzel over the whole unfortunate situation but by this point i'm pretty sure i was slurring my words and interjecting things that were not relevant to the topic of conversation.

Fathers day and carboot sale this morning. David Bowie for 20p on vinyl and The third series of 6 feet under for 4 quid. I text Russ and asked if i could borrow the first 2 series.

I need to finish an assignment. Before the end of June. Sighs.

Definately listen to "Dog Days are Over" By Florence + the machine. I'm addicted

Buzzing...

I'm buzzing. Soft fuzzy outline and all. In fact i'm so inspired i can't think straight. I've finally landed an idea something i can work with, something i want to work with. A storyline I could really run with. I've never felt so sure that, with time and effort and a lot of sweat and blood, I can pull this off.

Watch this space.

Baby...

I'm running away with the circus

I don't care for your tone...

Or much of what you say...

Everything that i have to say is knocked down. Anything i have to say is met with a sharp often pesimestic come back. I'm not one for confrontation or retaliation but i was never one for leaving my boyfriend or jetting off on holiday alone either, so i guess theres always a chance that next time i'll turn around and shoot her down (metaphorically speaking).

I need some down time. I've banished parents from entering my room for the rest of the day. Having lived independently for 2 years living back home is becoming an up hill struggle. I feel like a child again.

Tbh, i could do with some company. But i'm not about to ask.

I'm going to start wishing on stars again. Worked for me last time.

Baby, Tell me.

There is deffinately a danger to knowing too much. Sometimes it is best to remain blissfully ignorant, but it's just not in human nature, we prod and we poke until we hear what we need not hear.

After spending much of the morning stomping around like a stroppy teenager I retreated to the fields and sat myself in the grass amongst the bugs (one of which i'm pretty sure i inhaled, disappeared far too quick for my liking). I admit that for a while i cried, a lot, to the point where my eyes burned and my face had gone it's unattractive splotchy red, at which point i was glad that i'd brought my sunglasses along. But it felt good. And it felt even better when i realised i could pick myself back up and get on with the rest of my day.

However, I still feel pretty bad about the frog i stood on last night on my way home. Walking up past the graveyard sometime after 1 my foot came into contact with something soft, that made an unmistakable high pitched squeal. On closer inspection it was indeed a frog, from what i could tell it hadn't exploded under foot but i can't imagine my £4 plimsoles from primark and my drunken footing did any good. I cried the rest of the way home.

I unfortunately missed H's house warming today (i say unfortunately but i'm not sure how sincere i'm being). It was a genuine out, having vomited up half my chinese i thought i should probably bypass the "family and close friend" gathering and watch the last two episodes of desperate housewives whilst nursing the waves of nausea and my increasingly irritating headache. I've been feeling like this for a week now and only today did the symptoms cross my mind as awfully familiar, but on more careful calculation, those odds are pretty low. And to be perfectly honest, who is that unlucky? seriously??

Frienemies

On the bus journey home last night i resisted the urge to cry both out of fear of looking absoloutly ridiculous and that i might actually have dehydrated as a consequence.

We'd been dancing for a couple of hours, only 3 of us which is always a crowd but in reflection it was meant to be a girls night out, ok we'd invited J along but still, this did not warrant abandoning me to suck his face off. Standing alone on a dancefloor while your "best mate" gets off with your other slightly newer, shinier friend is not my idea of a good night out, so i grabbed my bag off the stage and legged it for the bus. I feel i should've done this an hour prior to the face sucking, when she'd asked me to find a guy to dance with so that she could dance with J. I looked around and instantly wanted to bolt. Who needs enemies when you have friends like that?

I recieved an apology text this morning that i'm yet to reply to. We're meant to be out again tonight but this time with D who i haven't yet met, but if it's going to be much of the same then i'm most certainly not game.

Tbh this fending for myself thing is getting kind of tiring. For once can someone put me first? I really need a hug.

and to which i despair

R "he said he's going to brussels for three weeks, on his own, he said i should go with him." oh dear oh dear.

Notches on the bed post

My posts haven't been particularly cheery of late, for which i apologise, profusely, for.
I seem to have abused you as i would diary. But i needed an outlet. So i thank you for your patience while i went off at the deep end.

I'm currently alternating revision with reading girly trash and other means of procrastination. Such as alphabetising my record collection, or clearing out my wardrobe. Or blogging so it would seem.

Infact i've spent the last half hour with my attention divided between the socio-cultural approach to development and R*s latest conquest, although at the moment she's acting like, lets call him "Fred", was not much of an achievement and much more "another notch on the bedpost". We are currently debating whether he does infact like her or not. I tried to tactfully point out that he didn't even know she existed until a few hours prior to the mentioned "event". Although i know i'm at a total loss, she has no doubt already married herself off to the guy. Right now, she's naming their children.

I'm going to be honest with you. I feel something close to jealousy, not too close and i'm definitely not having a green moment because I do not want to be doing what R's doing. This is the 2nd since her break up in whats been only a number of weeks (two if i'm correct). It's just that it would be nice to have someone to talk about. Or more to the point, i miss the someone i had to talk about. I was really enjoying the rush you get from a new person. But i'm by no means going to go hunt that feeling down. Because i can be on my own... and enjoy it. Although the little shopping trips i keep taking myself on have to stop, which leads me to suspect the clearing out of my wardrobe stems from guilt rather than the urgent need to procrastinate.

Anyhow, i must return to this melodrama. R has a certain ex visiting tomorrow. I'm loosing count. Seriously. Who needs a lover when your friend has (counts them off on hand) atleast 3...

xoxo