Da ba de da ba da

I feel blue.
Life is majorly sucking at the moment.

I know I'm just feeling sorry for myself & making mountains out of molehills but sometimes a girl's allowed to. It's our prerogative.

I'm hoping things'll improve 'cause I hate feeling like this. No fun!

I think I just need to hear a few choice words & have some lovely cuddles & I'll be set.

Going christmas shopping tomorrow so fingers crossed that'll put me in a better mood. And then hopefully seeing the boy for some much needed quality time over the weekend. I can't wait. I really need him right now & honestly, I'm pretty sure he needs me too.

He just might not realise it.

Fuck this has been such a self-indulgent, moany post.

I do apologise.

Here's a cute pic to end on a high note:

Cry me out?

I am so ridiculously over-emotional at the moment it's scary.
I have cried more in the last few days than I can remember ever crying throughout my entire life. I can't control it. At first it was fine because I was crying at stuff that people could understand (starting with sob-fest that was Tony's funeral) but now I'll start bawling at absolutely anything. I've cried at adverts for pete's sake. Seriously is something wrong with me now.

It goes to the other extreme as well. My normally fairly-short fuse has been cut to the quick and I now fly off the handle at record speeds.

Whilst sitting on the bus on the way to see the boy the other day all I could think was 'please don't cry' and 'just don't shout at him'. I was forgetting the fact that I was supposed to be going there to comfort him in HIS time of need but nevermind, selfish heart & all that. Luckily, we were fine. I managed to go an hour & a half without having an emotional melt-down. That he saw. Truthfully, I almost cried after we had sex! But thank heavens I managed to restrain myself. What in the name of christ have I become? This isn't me!

I'm really really hoping this is just a phase. And not that I'm becoming one of those pathetic women. I'm so much better than that! And honestly, I feel sorry for anyone who has to be around me at the moment. Being a slave to your hormones is a nightmare.

10 things you want for christmas:

1. A shetland pony.

2. New GHDs.

3. Fur coat/cape.

4. Polaroid camera.

5. Pretty perfume.

6. A cute knitted jumper.

7. More vinyl. Any vinyl.

8. To see our tv debut.

9. A lovingly made mix tape.

10. Quality time with my faves.

9 musicians/bands you love:

1. The Horrors.

2. Michael Buble.

3. Lady Gaga.

4. David Bowie.

5. Savage Garden.

6. Lily Allen.

7. S.C.U.M

8. Kraftwerk.

9. The Kinks.

8 things you do everyday:

1. Watch Supernatural.

2. Drink tea.

3. Tweet unnecessary rubbish.

4. Injure myself.

5. Sleep for a ridiculously long time.

6. Nom fatty foods. Then feel guilty for doing so.

7. Wish someone would phone me.

8. Stroke my pussy.

7 things you enjoy:

1. Cuddles on the sofa.

2. Nights in with my bestest.

3. Crying with laughter, so much it hurts.

4. Making other people happy.

5. Singing at the top of my lungs.

6. Good food and good wine.

7. Finding a little gem hidden amongst all the tat in charity shops.

6 things that will always win your heart:

1. Lying in bed snuggling.

2. Making me feel special.

3. Sense of humour.

4. Making me as many cups of tea as I wish.

5. Putting up with my randomness.

6. Being random with me.

5 favourites:

1. Movie - Bad Education. Or maybe (500) Days of Summer.

2. Song - Temper Trap's Sweet Disposition possibly.

3. Book - The Portrait of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde.

4. Band - The Horrors.

5. Season - Autumn.

4 smells you love:

1. Vanilla.

2. Paco Rabanne '1 Million'.

3. Freshly made coffee.

4. Bleach. Or any cleaning products.

3 places you want to go:

1. Paris.

2. Switzerland. Or anywhere with lots of snow.

3. Vegas baby.

2 best holidays:

1. Offset fest camping with my fave.

2. African safari in memory of my daddy.

1 person you'd marry on the spot:

1. Rafael Nadael.

Tonight I sleep on a bed of nails

I've just come to realise that I really don't like sleeping alone.
And even more than that - I actually sleep better accompanied by another being.

I think my irrational fear of the dark plays a major part in this. The fact that I cannot sleep in pitch darkness unless there is someone else with me, obviously effects my sleeping pattern.

I just hate going home to this:

Bad to the bone

I just re-watched one of my very favourite films:

La Mala Educación (Bad Education)

I can't even really begin to explain what exactly it is I love about this film so much. It's almost as if Pedro Almodóvar reached inside my brain, pulled out all the things I love and smooshed them together to create one beautifully made mexican masterpiece. I think if I had to chose only one film that I could watch for the rest of my life, this would probably be it.

Me encanta.

It's only words but words are all I have

Death. What a mother fucker.

Sean's uncle died today. I feel so helpless. My only ideas of death come from chickens being eaten and cats being given the lethal injection for no particular crime. I cannot even begin to understand what he's going through. I spoke to him on the phone earlier (when he told me the news) and I couldn't seem to say anything more constructive than 'I'm so sorry' and 'Give my love to your family'. All I want now, more than anything, is to be with him. To give him a big hug & make him feel better. But obviously his family need him as he needs them, & I don't want to get in the way of that.

It's a cheesy thing to say but death really does make you realise just how short and precious life is. I feel we need to, for want of better words 'live every day like it's your last' and really appreciate those around us. Make the most of the time we have.

Imagine me and you, I do

ghghgdhd

'If the burden seems too much to bear, remember the end will justify the pain it took to get us there'

This quote and this picture pretty much sums up the Ruby & Lex dynamic <3

You make me smile please stay for a while now

As a whole I detest chirpy, 'life-is great', sunshine and rainbows posts but I am in such a good mood at the moment I can't help it. I'm happy with what I've got & can see good things ahead of me.

I STILL have the greatest best friend in the world. There by my side through thick & thin. I rely on her more than I ever thought I would rely on another human being. I can't imagine my life without her. It's been about 2 months since I saw her last and though that kills me & I miss her like hell, we talk practically every day so I don't feel too left out of her life. It's strange but I'm starting to think that we may have even gotten closer (if that were indeed possible) as friends since she's been away. It's amazing just how beautiful & powerful true friendship is.

I've also just entered a new & exciting relationship with someone I think suits me better than I think either of us realised to begin with. I'm not gonna start gushing as I know full well how that achieves nothing but giving all readers a strong sense of nausea. I'll just say that he makes me very happy. His family love me apparently, as do his friends. And the fact that he's already sort of invited me to his birthday celebrations (which aren't for about 4 months!) shows he wants me around for some time yet. I'm sticking put. No changes please.

On top of all that I am currently in the middle of planning what will hopefully be the most incredible new years eve ever. With the help of the Cave Club, we shall be bringing in 2010 to the psychedelic sights & sounds of the underground. I am so excited to be spending it with both the aforementioned favourites as well as a whole bunch of other lovelies. I will be off my tits with happiness. Now all I have to do is be patient...

Every word I write spells out your name

I need to buy these tights.
They may look like a cross between a skin infection and a dyslexic learning the alphabet but I LOVE THEM.
Please santa?

I wont be messing with the one thing that brings light to all my darkness

It is my maternal grandmother's birthday today.
Yet we haven't sent a card or well-wishing message.
And we don't intend to.
This may seem strange to some but to me, the way I've been brought up and the way my family is, it is perfectly normal.

Let me explain - for all sorts of reasons that I won't go into now, my mother and grandmother have never really got on. There's always been a sense that my nan took great joy in belittling my mum and relished her failures. Surely this isn't how a mother should behave? I remember when I was very young spending time with my nan, and she said something insulting about my mum who wasn't there at the time. I was so shocked that she could be so callous towards her own daughter. I decided from that moment that I didn't want to spend time with someone who is going to bad-mouth possibly the most important person in my life. So we lost touch too. We have tried to build bridges and reconcile over the years. But the effort is always one-sided so gets a bit tiresome when you're trying to sort things out and you're the only one willing to compromise.

I've been thinking about this not only because it is her birthday today, but also because I have recently witnessed some very different family structures which made me look at my own in a new light.

I have been spending time in the presence of a huge, tight-knit family who, in the relatively short time they've known me, have taken me under their wing as if one of their own. Ten family members, covering three generations all live under one roof. Just the atmosphere and the sounds in that house are the polar opposite to that of my own home. But I liked it. It felt warm. Safe. Obviously it has it's drawbacks as with everything but for me, on first impression, it was like walking into something out of an old family movie.

I wondered for a little while if maybe I was missing out? I don't have close links with any of my family with the obvious exception of my mother. My family tree would be very bare. It would be nice to have a loving grandmother who would bake me cakes and things like that, but that's just not my life. I'm not saying one way is any better than the other. I am incredibly lucky to have such a close relationship with my mum which I know a lot of other people, often from larger families, don't experience. Every family is unique and we become the people we are as adults largely because of our upbringing.

I could talk about this forever and ramble on til my fingers bleed but I'll just finish by saying that I may not have a huge family like some but I have people in my life who as so so important to me that they are my family. It's a cheesy thing to say but my friends really ARE my family. This new family reflection has also made me certain that I want a big family of my own. The British Waltons yes please.

Secret smile

Not every picture has to be pretty to make me smile.

My funny valentine

I really really wish I was the kinda person to have the strength to let certain things just pass me by. Water off the proverbial duck's back. To just carry on as if it means nothing to you and you have no real interest either way. But instead, I am an over-emotional panicker. And a bit of a worrier too.

My boyfriend's a lucky lucky man isn't he?

I am trying to teach myself better habits. The 'counting to ten' method favoured by anger management teams works quite well with certain things. Simply telling myself 'Wait. It'll be OK, give it time' can work wonders when I'm bouncing off the walls because I'm waiting for someone to get back to me. I'm also trying not to let my emotions bubble over the surface too much either. So that, if I'm gonna have an emotional reaction, not everyone has to be privy to it. Though of course this is very much easy said that done.

But hey, time's on my side right? We live and we learn. I just hope

I don't drive all those closest to me away first!

Who am I?

I'm the knot in your stomach.

The phelgm in your throat.

The message saying you're not home.

But the lining is silver.

And one day you'll realise.

Your taunted charm and your broken smile touched me unexpectedly

I have just discovered the powers of coffee. I'd drunk coffee before, and though I could just about tolerate it, I never really enjoyed it. Now I am genuinely afraid it will become my new obsession.

Coming into work this morning I felt like this:

So I drank a coffee:

Six more coffees later and I look like this:

Oh god.

Was there a time when rhetoric was not enough?

Fuck, this hasn't been updated for ages. I'm stagnating somewhat at the moment and I can't quite bring myself to write about bad records and charity shops when they're not accompanied by something at least vaguely interesting.

I've been feeling a bit out of sorts these last few days. Most probably brought on by the countless failures that seem to add up to create my so-called life. I woke up monday morning feeling downright rotten. And this was more than just your normal monday morning blues. I'm not quite sure what's happening with my life at the moment and I really hate feeling this out of control. I'd love to have a magic mirror to see where I'll be in 6 months time coz at the moment I have no bloody clue. Could be absolutely anywhere.

So I decided to quash the growing melancholy before I started resembling a 13 year old emo kid muttering 'I hate my life' and shutting myself up in my room listening to TBS. I'm far too old to be able to get away with that now. First off I sent a particularly gushy message to my bestest. She is quite possibly the greatest, and more importantly the most consistent, thing in my life right now and just needed to let her know so. The simple act of sending this message and thinking about our friendship managed to brighten my mood somewhat.

I then reached for my memory box. I haven't looked in this box for at least 6 months but have thrown countless mementos in there as for whatever reason I decided they had sentimental significance. There was alot in there. From old swimming badges I got as a child to a fake rose given to me by an ex-boyfriend to random newspaper cuttings and bits of tinsel. Despite some of the memories being a little hard to take, it was worth it and felt good knowing I had all this to show for my 19 years.

Now it's thursday and I'm feeling much chirpier. Despite coming into work at half 8 in the morning. I'm more positive that things will get better. You may be wondering why I'm bothering to write this at all if I'm already well on my way to feeling myself again but, as I'm sure any blogger would tell you, typing out your thoughts to a faceless audience is unbelievably theraputic.

You've got all the friends you need, bad tattoos and worse IDs

Offset fest 2009.

A gathering of beautiful mould-breakers accompanied by some of the best alternative music around.

Thankfully the weather held and we were blessed with some glorious late summer sun.

I never thought that I could have so much fun in a weekend that included litter picking & manual labour.

How very very wrong I was.
For every horrible job we had to endure, fate rewarded us with something amazing to keep us smiling.

It is very hard to put all that happened into words.

So here are just a few of my highlights:

- Eating a large proportion of our food supplies on the first night.

- Hawk eye band spotting.
- Sexy crew tees.

- Being sent to a certain tent during a certain performance.

- Extra fruity pimms in plastic cups.

- Backstage table delivery.

- R2D2.

- Sitting on the grass watching bands we’d never heard of.

- Shoulder hole due to failed customisation.

- Vitamin water - ‘the hedgehog in your mouth’

- Possibly the greatest ego boost one could ever wish for.

- Pink wristband patrol.

- Human tent pole.

- Eavesdropping on radio conversations. 'Do not turn anything on, if you do it will blow up'

All photos courtesy of aimz24

Utterly unbelievable couple of days. Wish it never had to end.

You’re my pride and joy etcetera

My vanity has just reached a new a level.
I am currently obsessed with a song with my name as its title.
All right, so the spelling isn't exact but the pronunciation is spot on. I love Americans simply for this reason alone.

But do I like it because it features my name or is this simply a nice coincidence? I'm not sure.
It is a great song. That cannot be denied.
It's the kinda sweet, romantic pop that always makes you smile.
And listening to the 7" single that my mum bought when she was younger than I am now is amazing.
She loved the song back then, completely oblivious to the fact that 20-odd years later she would give her daughter the exact same name as the heroine being serenaded.
(I should add I was not named after this song. This reference only became aparent years later.)

This song makes me feel like a child again.
And reminds me of long car journeys spend singing along to old records my mum would play, as opposed to the usual nursery rhymes most toddlers got subjected to.
It's easy to forget how massively my childhood was influenced and effected by music.

I think if anyone ever sang this song to me I would probably die.
But I'd die a happy girl.

I've got sticks in my spine but what can I do

I need a new job.

Like, now.

Any job'll do.

Don't get paid nearly enough to put up with half of what I do here.

But having said that, finding this little guy on the desk did make me smile:

I shall name him Jórge and he shall be my friend.

And though it's hard for me to say, maybe you're better off this way

Just overheard a rather interesting discussion between two teeny chavs on the bus that got me thinking about someone I haven't thought about in quite a while. They were talking about another girl who was apparently just 'using' everyone.

The concept of 'using' someone has always intrigued me.
I mean, don't we 'use' everyone in our lives for different reasons?
We use our mothers for comfort.
Our best friends for support.
And our boyfriends for love.
But obviously this isn't the sort of thing the girl was being criticised for. These examples are acceptable as these people are happy to be 'used' and may even 'use' you in return.
It's all about getting what you need and what's best for you out of your relationships.
Looking after number one, if you like.
I guess the times when this causes problems is when a certain person is unaware that they are being used. And are almost manipulated to suit someone else.

Back to the throw-back this conversation envoked.
I had, until recently, one person I shamlessly used for my own gain.
Simply put he was someone I could call upon, whenever I was feeling down, for an instant ego boost.
That was pretty much the extent of our relationship.
And I always thought he was fine with the arrangement.
Until he suddenly withdrew the compliments and issued me with an ultimatum.
All or nothing.

Now that we've gone our separate ways I have to admit that it's not him I miss so much as what he did for me.
I miss the guilty pleasures that came with his words.
He could've been anyone for all I cared.

So yes, I did use him.

And now, with the benefit of hindsight, I feel bad and have even contemplated contacting him again to apologise.
But honestly I think things are still too fresh.
If asked, I couldn't even begin to try and explain why I did it.
I guess it was a case of after it'd happened once, innocently, I realised how good it felt and just kept doing it.
Exploiting him for my own selfish needs.

I suppose everyone is guilty of using someone this way at least once.
It isn't, as was with my personal experience, always intentional.
I just hope that's it now.
Don't particularly want to do that again. Even if I didn't mean to.
Didn't feel nice and I'd hate to be thought of as the kind of person who doesn't care about anyone but herself.
That's not me.

You know you want me...

I love how this is the first thing the Weight Watchers fatties see when they come in for their meetings.

Cruel? Possibly.
Funny? Absolutely.

Soft skin, red lips, so kissable

My newest 'girl crush'.



I can't quite decide whether I want to look like her or just look at her.
Either way I'm totally lezzing.

It's so magical, we'd be so fantastical

I'm not quite sure what the blogging etiquette is for talking about your loved ones...
But I wanna take a moment to big up my writing partner & best friend:
Miss Amy Ellen Hill.

Having decided that neither of us would be content with a life of normality and have always craved attention, we thought the only natural progression would be to team up and create the most fabulous female comedy duo the world has ever known.

So, my totally amazing, super friend set to work writing a couple of scripts for our, as yet unnamed, tv show.
I've just read said scripts and wow. Quite simply wow.
Obviously these scripts aren't anywhere near finished but the crucial concepts and plotlines are all there. I'm hoping I can try and contribute myself...it is a partnership after all.

The only real reason I'm posting about this is that I am so impressed with what she's done and so excited about where we're headed, that I just had to vocalise it. It'll take alot of work and be a pretty tedious process at times but I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that it'll be worth it. The ends more than justifies the means.
We're moving in the right direction now.
We will get there.
And we will fulfill our dreams.

I always said that I would make mistakes. I'm only human, and that's my saving grace

Finally saw Brüno last night. Sacha Baron Cohen is a sick sick man but I love it. Fantastiche!
And the night in with my fave proved wonderfully succesful.
Films. Food. Friends. Perfect.
Staying up til 6am and watching children's tv before eventually dragging ourselves up to bed.
Then waking up at half 3 and gorging ourselves on Maccy Ds.
This is the life!

I'm also still obsessed with the book I just read. And having finished it I feel like my best friend's just started ignoring my calls.

By nature I am not very deep, so I rely on books and music and very occasionally art to make me think about stuff more. Anyway, Chuck has an interesting theory on love, and it makes me think...
"There are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you'll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there's still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it always happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of those qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. You will remember having conversations with this person that never actually happened. You will recall sexual trysts with this person that never technically occured. The person is real, and the feelings are real - but you create the context. And context is everything. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they're often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else."
This book is better than emo.

You see, I always thought I won.
Because out of that experience I realised what love wasn't supposed to be.
Drama is exciting. But no one wants to be excited all the time. The most retarded thing about the whole saga was that the un-named didn't want to be with me properly. Sneaking around, stolen glances and secret make-out sessions were all he needed. This alone doesn't sound retarded, but is when you take into account the fact that he said those immortal three words after mere months. This idea that he didn't want me properly but at the same time required some hold over me. Something I've encountered several times since, guess I just know how to pick em. He was wrong and also of the opinion that he was too good for me. Another hugely untrue 'fact'. I know now that I deserve better than that. I cannot deny that this shaped my idea of love.

Another reason I won is that out of that came, after some rough times, an even stronger relationship with my closest friend. I never want to go through that again and will never put anyone or anything before her again. On top of that, I would have made the best girlfriend ever. He, on the other hand, will always just be a mediocre shag with no substance.

I love books, they make me think of stuff that would never have occured to me.

Oh I want you, I dunno if I need you but I'd die to find out

The thing about the internet is that sometimes it makes me so depressed that I prolong the depression and spend more time online - like some form of medieval torture. Except, y'know, with a laptop and it not being, oh I dunno, the middle ages.

The form of torture that's taking place right now is looking at shoes that I cannot afford online. Firstly, I cannot afford the real deals, so I'm looking at high street knock offs. Already this is sentence is depressing. Secondly, I cannot even afford the knock offs. What the christ is up with my financial situation? Someone please shoot me.

Or buy me these.

A heavy bassline is my kind of silence

I'm pretty sure I have bad taste.
In pretty much everything.
Except maybe clothes, but that's only because in that respect, I look like everyone else. I buy my clothes from the same high street shops as everyone else.
I'm at ease with my questionable taste. But it poses problems.
For instance, if someone asks me to recommend a film, I feel bad doing it. Because the chances are, they'll shell out twenty quid and hate what I chose.
Same goes for music. Obviously. I mean, I fucking love a lot of the same music my peers do. You know, alt-pop, punk, post-punk, new-wave, no-wave, rocknroll, indie, all that. But I spend most of my time listening to random crap hardly anyone's heard of. Cheesy pop. Old country blues. Long-haired hicks from Shitsville, USA, singing about girls and screwing over/getting screwed over by best friends. Overly emotional screams.

I'm thinking about this because I've spent the last two days reading a book that I can't put down. I'm so fucking inspired by it that I've written more in my notebook over the last few days than I probably have done in weeks. It's been a while since I've used a pen for anything more than jotting down times and places, so I pretty much can't spell or write.

Back to the book.
I've just finished it and I feel slightly empty. What I expected was to be a story of the author's travels across America visiting famous rocknroll death sites turned out to be more about his cynical views on life, love and music culture. When I read a book, I fold the bottom corners of the pages up when I like a bit of the writing especially. And at the end I've folded up a record number.
Not that I talk about books much with my friends (it's usually music and whoever we hate/love most at that point in time), but despite how much I loved this book, I am never going to recommend it. Even the author admits that most book enthusiasts slate his style of writing.
On one of my folded pages is this:
"Art and love are the same thing: it's the process of seeing yourself in things that are not you. It's understanding the unreasonable."
This sounds pseudo-intelligent, but don't be fooled. These few sentences were preceeded by how he can relate every romantic encounter to a member of KISS. But I guess this sort of shows why I like this book (scrap that, I love it). I know it's not the most intellectual read but it reacts with me and even though the author is a cynical thirty year old from New York I fucking agree with him. Everything he rambles on about that has shit all to do with the book I relate to.
Even though I've never experienced it.
In that respect I'm painfully aware that this book is one big record.
I get it.
It pulls at my mind and my heart.
And for that reason no one else will agree.

I've been thinking about how every situation I encounter can be perfectly depicted by a particular song. Whether I'm adapting the meaning of the song to fit the scenario or looking for scenarios to re-enact the song, I'm not sure. And not sure I want to know, honestly. I guess most of the people I experience these moments with would be offended by the choices I've made to sum up our time together. There's one song that I can't listen to anymore because it will only ever remind me of one time in my life. Which is dumb because I only ever wanted the situation to be like a rock song, whereas in reality it was the other way round.

I've bought two more books, but I don't want to read them til I've got the other one out of my head.
Which could be a while.
It's called 'Killing Yourself To Live'.
And it's by Chuck Klosterman.
And I'm 85% sure it's the best book I've ever read.

Every penny don't fit the slot

Being on a 'healthy eating plan' in a bid to reduce the jelly belly is depressing.

Reach out and touch faith

I don't often talk about religion. But after an interesting discussion with an agnostic friend of mine, I thought I might give it a go.

My father was a Buddhist, my mother Church of England and from the ages of 5 - 11, I attended a Catholic school. So you can only imagine how conflicting certain religious ideologies were to me as a child. At home we had little fat man statues scattered about the place which I'd look at whilst being taught songs about meeting Jesus at the crossroads. Daily masses took up most of the school day and, looking back, I have little memory of learning anything in that place that wasn't depicted in one of the gospels. Yet since leaving, I could probably count the number of times I have been to church on the fingers of one hand. As I once quite infamously said to my mother, I was 'all religion-ed out'. My religious affliations took a back burner. Growing up took a precedent.

From a very early age I always thought that it was possible to be highly religious without going to church. My child-like mind thought of those literally unable to attend regular services, those in hospital or in war torn countries. Surely God wouldn't just cast these people aside? If God truly is the all-knowing, all-loving presence we're led to believe then wouldn't he/she want to embrace all those with faith; regardless of how often they go to mass. That we shouldn't have to prove our devotion through ritualistic actions. This idea was supported by my mother who still, to this day, maintains that our faith is no lesser than those who choose to go to church every week; we simply chose our own home as our church.

This leads me to an area I feel extremely passionately about. My greatest pet hate. Organised religion and the commercialisation of worship. TV evangelists are not 'endorsed' by the big man upstairs. They have no special 'connection'. They're nothing more than con men, praying on the vulnerable. Ironically, the polar opposite of the teachings they claim to be preaching. And religious groups who moan about dwindling numbers make my blood boil. Membership. Do they think Jesus is somehow impressed by voter turnout? That God gives preference to religions that appear especially popular? It's not like God only allocates federal funding to religious organisations that meet a quota.

To be perfectly honest, I don't really think there's much of a place for 'traditional' religions in modern society. Everywhere we look today we are bombarded by lustful visions and endless temptations. All things that'll lead you straight to hell, apparently. I must say though I have the utmost respect for people who do manage to live a holy existence and abstain from all temptations in this day and age. This has to be a hundred times harder than it would have ever have been at any other point in history. But even so, I couldn't bring myself to follow these examples in my own life. I drink, I curse, I listen to offensive rock music, I lust after the opposite sex and I am guilty of numerous 'sins of the flesh'. In the mind of a religious fanatic I am bound for eternal damnation. But to the majority of the population I am, quite simply, normal. Nothing particularly spectacular or punishable. And I can't help being this way; it's how our generation have been programmed to be. I haven't gone out of my way to break the rules. The rules just don't really fit my lifestyle.

I would like to say, though, that I would like to think all is not lost for me. I still have extremely strong beliefs and opinions. My own unique brand of faith, if you will. I think that it is very important to have something to believe in. Whatever that something may be. For me, I like to think there's more to life than simply what we see on this earth. I'm not talking about anything as absolute or set in stone as 'heaven' and 'hell', but something. This is an opinion I was surprised to find I share with my aforementioned friend. I guess this ideology is easier to uphold than a traditional one as it is more abstract. There are no rules. The details will differ from person to person. We're not talking about a big man with a long beard sitting on a cloud but it's comforting to imagine something. Even if we are unsure what that something is, the mere fact of having something to believe in is incredibly rewarding.

I also believe very strongly in fate and destiny. With a slight human twist. That there is some powerful force guiding us through life but that, ultimately, it is our individual choices that determine the end result. Fate can lead you somewhere but it's up to you what you do when you get there. Apparently this is quite a Buddhist way of thinking. Thank you Father.

So, to try and finish this unbelievably long-winded ramble, I'll conclude by just saying this:
I think that religion, as with most things, needn't be so restrictive. People should be able to decide how, when and if they choose to worship for themselves. We shouldn't have to mold ourselves to try and fit into a box. When asked if I am religious, I simply reply that I have faith. When asked to tick a box, I choose 'other'. I am not un-religious, and as I've stated I do agree with certain religious views, I just have not found any of the five major religions to be perfectly suited to me. And I don't feel I should have to compromise or sacrifice. I have my own religion. I am my own priest.
My own God, as it were.

Some fellows look and find the sunshine. I always look and find the rain

I love listening to rain. I realise this is a pretty cliché thing to love, but I am a cliché person (at least when it comes to thinking about the weather).

The storm outside has been brewing for a while now . Odd sparks of lightning and rumbles of thunder here and there. But now the heavens have finally opened. The rain comes in inconsistent sheets. Almost as if some meteorological hooligan is throwing buckets of water up at my window every time a wind machine kicks up.



It must be raining everywhere. I cannot imagine anywhere escaping this storm and staying dry. This is, of course, highly unlikely and geographically unsound but it's still nice to imagine us all united under this veil of precipitation.

There's something soothing about laying in bed with only the sound of the rain outside for company. When you're inside, rain is never frightening. As if somehow the rain will wash away everything we're hiding from, everything we're scared of, everything we can't bare to face, whilst we sleep. That when we wake in the morning the world will have been cleansed and that things will be different. Obviously this is not true and when I awake in the morning I'll still have a chin the size of a small country, the swine flu 'epidemic' will still be in full swing and wars will still be fought across the world. But it makes it easier to sleep thinking about it my way.

Oh what a delightfully English post. Next I'll be offering up tips on making the most of a queue. Crikey.

You make me sick, and I can't be the only one

I'm a little bit under the weather. (A rather paradoxical phrase I've always felt. Except for those with their 'head in the clouds.') And as anyone who knows me well will tell you, I'm a rather sadistic and twisted person and I want all of you reading this to feel as 'under the weather' as I do. To this end I'm going to make you all feel sick using two simple words:

PEACHES GELDOF.

Enjoy.

A kiss with a fist is better than none

Relationships. They’re funny things aren’t they? So often I see pairings that strike me as unnatural. They never seem to look happy either. As if they know how odd they look to the rest of the world. But of course we all know how so many couples stick together despite being blatantly unhappy. Misery loves company.

I myself have been guilty in the past of clinging onto something I knew full well had ended a long time ago. I was just so desperate to imagine things getting better. That it was just a ‘bad patch’ that we could push through. And at the time I even started to deny how bad things were. Painting a picture of moonlight and roses. Ashamed to admit to my girlfriends that I’d picked yet another loser.

But destructive relationships are almost hypnotic. Somehow you get used to the abuse, the neglect, the anger and start to think that somehow this ridiculous farce equates to love. And I’m not just talking about the extreme kinds of relationships that we all look down on from high on our pedestals. I’m talking about the subtle torture that occurs behind closed doors. Couples with more distaste for each other than they do for a rat on the street. Who grind each other down. And end up stuck in a rut of arguments and silent treatments but somehow just cannot let go.

So are we THAT emotionally needy? That afraid to be alone that we must endure these unhealthy interactions? As if this emotional anguish is the best that we’re ever going to get. That the thought of someone actually wanting to be with us is so alien that we must cling to that despite the calibre of said mate. Our only real system of vetting our potential partners is taking them to meet our closest friends for inspection. And even then we hardly take any notice if what they have to say is negative.

In some ways these sorts of relationships are exciting, sure. That element of mystery that greets you every time you get home. Will tonight’s dinner go smoothly or will the lovingly prepared spag bol end up creating some new form of abstract art on the wall? Surely this isn’t healthy though. I understand that monogamy can quickly become monotony but at least the love is there. Things can be easily spiced up after a quick visit to Ann Summers. Whereas solving major relationship dramas must be hard if people are resorting to humiliating themselves on national telly on the Jeremy Kyle show.

Whatever the reason for it all, I honestly think this is complete bollocks. But I’ve learnt from my mistakes. I feel very strongly that every single person on this earth deserves to be happy. To find someone worthwhile to share their life with. Someone who will really appreciate them. But maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic. We shouldn’t settle for less than the best. Personal perfection.

I’m also incredibly protective of my friends now. That old adage ‘mess with her and you mess with me’ couldn’t be more appropriate. I just hate to imagine them going through some of the bad times I have and making the same stupid mistakes I did. If it wasn’t for my best friend I wouldn’t be the strong woman I am today. I will be eternally grateful for everything she’s done for me. Everything she’s put up with. So obviously I want nothing less than the best for her. Her future boyfriends will meet their harshest critic in me. ‘Break her heart and I’ll break your face’. And she’s seen me broken so many times that I know that she feels exactly the same way. Our dynamic is solid. And I pray it always will be.

Secret crowds rise up and gather

I seem to be having trouble settling into a book at the moment. There was a time when my nights drew to a close accompanied by a cup of tea and some compelling prose. But currently I have three unfinished novels lying precariously on my bedside table, tossed aside after I either got bored or just didn’t bother picking them up again, as well as numerous magazine sprawled across my floor. I’ve even turned to asking people for recommendations. Which I never do. But desperate times and all that. I’d much rather read something I sought out myself. Or perhaps stumbled across in the random sort of way I tend to find most things. Maybe I just need to keep looking. I really hope I haven’t lost the joy of reading for good. Lord knows how I’ll attempt to educate myself if I have. Hmm. Least my beloved music hasn't abandoned me. Yet.

Here’s something that amused me. I’m at work so I crave silly little things that pass the time.



To be honest I'm having a hard time working out what makes me happier - the pug pausing to take in the view (1:22) or just the simple fact that it's a fucking pug pushing a stroller! Youtube was created for moments like this.

See things through the eyes of a fool

Lock you in a dream, never let you go

I was watching the music channel earlier. A good chance to catch up on the hottest new tracks in the hope to get my finger back on the pulse, as it were. Or so I thought. Instead, interspersed between the La Gaga & Lady Roux, was a different Michael Jackson song. Because we haven’t heard enough already?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not denying he’s a musical genius and I love a bit of ‘SHAMOOON!’ as much as the next girl but come on. Why should we be bombarded by a constant stream of classic pop, just because the artist has died? The music hasn’t changed. And people who are suddenly proclaiming their love and adoration for said music, despite being rather indifferent before the events of two weeks ago, are nothing better than sheep. Blatant bandwagoning if you ask me.

And I must admit that the emotion at the forefront of mind whilst watching the memorial concert debacle certainly was not sorrow. Perhaps despair? Call me a cynic if you wish but I can’t help but think that more than a couple of the ‘stars’ present were merely there to further their own careers. I had completely forgotten one such ‘artist’ even existed until I saw his ridiculously over-emotional display. Bravo sir. Oscarworthy for sure. But what better way is there to earn brownie points on the likeability factor? Positive exposure in the most sickeningly morbid way. A very clever PR move really.

My other major thought whilst watching the outrageously ostentatious tribute was how badly I want that! I defy anyone to say that they wouldn’t want people sobbing into diamante gloves, staring up at a giant picture of you in your greatest hour whilst your glorious coffin sits spectacularly as the perfect gothic centrepiece. How utterly fabulous. MJ I applaud you.

I still wish they would let up with the dedications already. There’s only so many times you can hear ‘Billie Jean is not my love-er’ before you want to bash your head repeatedly on the desk til you reach bone. Trust me.

I'll bring you flowers in the pouring rain

The newest messiah rolled into one

I feel empowered.
I feel inspired.
I feel I could take on the world singlehandedly.
And win.

It's like I've woken up from a lifelong daydream and can finally see things clearly. An epiphany of sorts. So many things I thought I could never do, suddenly seem achievable. The stupid little worries have shifted. I know who I am now. And more importantly, I know where I'm meant to be.

I'm ready to take the next step. Take the plunge. That one thing that could change everything. What is there to lose? I've made my mistakes and learnt from them, so isn't it about time I got some of the good? If you want something bad enough you can do anything. I know exactly what I want and will do anything to get there. Nothing or no-one will stand in my way now.

Just incredibly thankful I'm not doing it alone. And I couldn't ask for a better support sysytem. Together we are strong. We are one.

I realise this makes little or no sense and had absolutely no point to it, but hey this is my first post for a good few weeks. Can't be expecting Chaucer.

Just watch this space bitches.

It's love back to front and no sides

Today is fathers' day.
A day to show your appreciation for that special patriarchal figure in your life.
Hmm let's see...well, I'm in the home of the two people closest to any sort of male role model I can conjure, if that counts? Though, of course, they are not here. Instead we are left to potter around rooms where everything has a place, everything is immaculately clean and, to be honest, it looks like no-one's lived in for a while, alone. I feel like I'm walking round a show house rather than someone's home.

I should really explain that the reason I am here is to animal-sit. The boys had to flight off to Cypress unexpectedly last week after the news that Nick's mum had had a stroke and was in hospital. So I'm now in charge of five chickens, four rabbits and one very fluffy cat who all need feeding, a chance to run about and lots of attention. So far so good.

I'm now sat on their olive green sofa, scribbling into my notebook and watching kerrang. My mum is working away at something or other in the conservatory; all I hear from her is the light slap of books being added to piles and the occasional cuss word. Despite my earlier comments I am enjoying my time here. It feels a bit like I'm on holiday, in a strange sort of way. Same thing different place.

I've been thinking alot about the future recently. Life's a funny thing isn't it? Just when you think you've got it all sewn up and you know exactly where you're headed, something comes along to throw a spanner in the works. This is not necessarily a bad thing, and is really quite exciting, yet still I can't say I'm totally happy with it. My problem is that I have this inbuilt need to always be in control. I want to do it all. But I want to do it my way. It's hard for me to accept that certain things in life are simply out of my hands. I need to stop overthinking things and maybe start taking some risks.

So this is my fathers' day. Sat watching aging rock stars gyrate around, eating doritos and waffling on about meaningless tripe. I wonder how other people are spending today. I must admit I have a sort of stereotypical, hallmark card type image of these sort of occasions stuck in my head that obviously stems from the fact that I have nothing of my own to act as a reference. So these things pose a slight mystery to me. Even mothers' day has never been what I think of as the 'traditional' sort of day in our family. But maybe every family is different and has there own ways of appreciating each other. I dunno. The people who are important to me know it. And I don't need a scheduled date of the year to force me to show it.

Ah David Bowie's 'Jean Genie' is playing. I owe David Bowie alot. If it wasn't for that man I would never have been born.
Fuck what a thought.

I spoke the words but never gave a thought to what they all could mean

I still don't have any pictures to post.
This is partly because I have been a combination of total lazy arse and crazy busy for the last few days.
But mainly because my funds are rapidly depleting and, since I am insisting on being 'authentic' and using film cameras, this means no picture developments as of yet. I'm planning to go get the first roll from my Diana developed tomorrow and pray there'll be at least one useable shot amongst the mess.

I am sick of people phoning up wanting to book the centre being so damn indecisive!

I'm going through what I like to call a 'creative tsunami' at the moment. The literal opposite of a 'creative drought'. In case you hadn't already figured that out for yourself. There's no problem of lack of ideas here. Only problem is my perfectionist nature and the fact that, in my head, everything looks so professional and polished. The fact that I'm using a film camera may be my (and my poor models') saving grace. If I was using a digital I'd be there for hours trying to get every little detail right, constantly picking out imaginary flaws. But as I won't know how they've come out til they're developed I'll just have to deal with it. That wonderful nugget of added excitement and mystery.

New Florence & the Machine track on the radio. Mix 96 you have redeemed yourself!

I need to buy some film. I know I can't really afford it but I need something to fill the empty voids that lurk between sleeps these days. My weekend will be no doubt spend wandering around looking for dead animals to photograph and desperately scribbling in my tatty old school notebook.

Once again an incredibly banal blog entry. Hopefully I'll have pictures to share soon so this meaningless drivel can cease.

You're a demon I can't face down

I have to confess that, for my sins, I am unwittingly becoming increasingly addicted to this year's Big Brother. No matter how hard I try to resist, be a bigger person, not get involved - I just can't. And then I feel almost guilty for watching it. And even more so for enjoying it!

I can try and be all pretentious and say that I only watch it for the social experiment elements and to learn about the human psyche but the truth is: it's really nothing more than shameless voyeurism. Every Big Brother fan in the land is a secret peeping tom. A curtain twitcher. A stalker.

I guess we just live in an incredibly voyeuristic society today. Everyone is so fascinated, almost to the point of obsession, by the ins and outs of other peoples' lives. You can't open a magazine, read a newspaper or turn on the tv without being bombarded by the newest sordid scandal uncovered by the paparazzi on whoever's currently top of their hit list. Why should we care where they went for dinner? Do we really need to know how much she weighs? Course we bloody well don't! But this is the age of information overload. We're so inundated by tabloid drivel, gossip and so-called 'exclusive information' that there's no mystery to anything anymore. And we can't get enough of it. Seeing some gorgeous superstar looking less than her best makes the rest of us normal people feel great. We use other peoples' lives to escape our own.

But is this a totally bad thing? I don't know. I've just rambled on with seemingly no point to this post.

On a lighter note, it's refreshing to know that you are never too old to relish the childish pleasure that comes from bubble wrap popping.

How I wish it was forever you would hold us

Fuck, it's amazing the things you can learn from an old box of sentiments found in the garage.

I can't believe I never realised how into photography my father was. Albeit a large proportion of the pics in said box are of my mother caught unawares in slightly embarrassing situations but there are actually some really good shots in there. I never knew so many of the places from my childhood could look so beautiful and artsy. Wow.

Just another random trait I seem to have inherited from my folks. It's almost as if I have no choice with certain things, that they've already been genetically predetermined for me or something. Whatever the reason behind it, I like being able to feel that connection.

First posts first...

Have absolutely no idea why I signed up to this. I have no clue what to write here...I guess this thing will just be full up with random shots I've taken of my life and various rambles I've decided to spare my friends from.

Yeah, so take a look at whatever I put up here.

Fuck knows, I hate most of it the minute it's done.
Whatever.

Peace.