the prettiest star

Paranoia?

2006-03-09T18:26:00.000Z

A number of things have pissed me off today.

I'm pissed off at my own laziness because I had to do an essay in 2 hours that I could have started 2 weeks ago. What's worse is that an essay I thought was due in tomorrow was in fact due in today and I don't understand the questions on it.

This essay situation today was not improved by the fact that I've got pmt and my stomach looks pregnant. I just made a cake to make me feel better and I ate the entire thing. Silly, wasn't it? Now none of my trousers fit.

But what's really upset me, and I choose the word upset because it saddened me, is that I read an article on a news website that Princess Diana's death was not caused by a conspiracy. Seems random that it would upset me? Allow me to explain.....

The driver of her car was recently found out to be a member of French intelligence. There was another car, I believe it was a whie fiat, it's driver was never found. It wasn't approved that she was dating someone of Arab descent, and she did too much good. Made the rest of the royal family look bad.

It's almost 10 years since she died and there has been so much theory over the whole situation. Maybe we'll never know what hapenned, but I know, and I think most people in the country feel the same way, that something isn't quite right. There's a lot of stuff going on that we, and by we I mean the public, aren't told about.

Maybe it's just a bad day for me, but it worries me how scary the world is these days. I was told by my lecturer the other day, that living in a city, we get photographed hundreds of times a day. Advertising worries me. Given that I work for a natural cosmetics company and you learn about ingredients, you realise that as consumers, we are all being ripped off. And food! I witnessed my housemate eating days old take out the other day. I asked him, do you think about what you're eating?

No one thinks about what they put in the their bodies, what they put on it, and what they feed their mind with. Maybe this is paranoia, but there seem to be a lot of people who just do not care. They will live their lives the way television and magazines deem the correct way. They will be subservient to convienience, and believe everything the papers say.

I sat next to a woman on the train the other day, and she told me she worked for local govt and explained that no one votes anymore, no one knows about how the country is run. Her time is filled with petty things like mending roads and sorting out housing and all the things she thought she could solve can't be solved because she has no time, no resources.

I risk sounding like I think everyone should live their lives a certain way. I know people choose their lifestyles, but they are coerced into it by how their choices are marketed. I think corporate greed is taking over, and say with certain soft drinks companies, they just want growth, they don't care whose third world workers are exploited or whose children's health is ruined or how much waste they produce.

I told my Mum's friend at the weekend that the reason her (very well known) face cream didn't work was because it's a cocktail of mineral oils and preservatives. 'But it cost £35' she said, 'It said on the box that it was tested by dermatologists'. I explained that the fact that she spent money on it didn't mean it was going to work and it was obviously bollocks because it gave her a rash. She admitted that she only bought it because of the amazing adverts and claims made by the company.

I was happy because I've hopefully saved her a lot of money. But then at the end of the night she said that she was just like me when she was my age. 'We all grow out of it', she said, 'you think you can change the world but then you grow up (!) and have kids and it just doesn't matter anymore'.

I'm not some naive kid thinking 'the man' sucks ass. I get so sick of people that think just because you're young, you don't know. How many people could have done great things, but were stopped because someone told they were 'too young'?

Love Is A Battlefield

2005-10-23T23:51:00.000Z

I've written so much on here about my love life. I'd like to think I'm the eternal optimist, but I'm ever the bitter cynic as well. I don't think one relationship (encounter may be a more appropriate word) has reached any level of meaning and everything has ended in nastiness.

So I found myself two weeks ago at my friend's staff party, drinking their free alcohol and talking to some loser about god knows what. Then I'm introduced to some people playing a drinking game, and there He is. Cute, nice hair, all that stuff.

Conversation ensues. He studies Spanish and the rest of the conversation is in my mother tongue. We ended up getting trashed and going to some vile club in the city. We drink equally vile beer, laugh at the crap music, and when he kisses me it's like the kiss I've been waiting for all these years.

We end up at my place. The next morning I wake up in his arms.

He took me for breakfast and smoothies which we ate in the park. On the next date we went for drinks, where he laughed at me for drinking real ale. Before the next date he came into my work and brought me chocolates, then that night we went for Spanish tapas and discussed our life stories.

Last Friday I had to stay at work late and got caught out in rain. By the time I got to his, he had made me a meal.

I'm fully aware of how icky this all sounds. I know people are sick that I've been walking around with the most ridiculous smile on my face. When we made Cds for each other I drove my housemates mad by playing it all the time.

I now know how it feels when you're with someone so perfect the thought of someone else is so wrong, so alien, it doesn't bear thinking about.

I'm terrified of fucking it all up. Finding someone who I could fall insanely and irrationally in love with after all the shit I've put up with, seems so lucky and amazing I just think it's all too good to be true.

The Summer of Discontent

2005-10-05T00:31:00.000Z

Not that it's actually summer any more, but sometimes you start a season with a distinct feeling that the last was frittered away. Three and a half months and I am no better off, financially, romantically, and didn't do half the things I wanted to do.

And so I find myself somewhat miffed.

I am quite disturbed that my last notable sexual encounter was with the man across the road after a 2 many dj's gig. In his front room. He has green hair and questionable manners. Before him is a guy I'm still supposed to be seeing who is perfect in every way apart from our most intiamate moments seem to involve some awkward fumbling and fiddling with condoms under a duvet in a darkened room.

There has to be more than this, surely? I'm nearly twenty but most of the time I feel 15.

It's this whole emotional ineptitude which is quite alarming. My housemate just split with his girlfriend after a very intense 8 month relationship, she's in Morroco and apparantly doesn't love him any more. This hapenned a week ago and the guy will not stop crying.

I don't deal with crying men, they make my skin crawl and I avoid dealing with them at all costs.

So it's got to the point where I'm hiding from my housemate because it's getting a bit silly. I asked him if he wanted to come to the supermarket to which he replied there were too many memories there.

What total bollocks. Everyone goes to Asda.

I must admit that I can't ever imagine being so into someone that the local supermarket is just too much for me. It verges on the ridiculous.

It's also quite disturbing.

When my parents broke up it didn't stop my mum from going to the local shop for a paper.

It's such a little thing and I don't know what it is exactly that's bothering me. But this discontent has been lingering all summer. It was that I was earning and yet not quite enough to clear my debt. I was dating, but not forming relationships. I was happy enough but not doing anything really fullfilling.

Now it's my environment and it's so petty.

Families. Can't beat them. Shame that.

2005-08-30T12:40:00.000Z

I went for a gorgey steak dinner with my friend tonight, and it struck me how both of us did nothing but complain about having to live back at home for the holidays. And it's not just us, it seems all the students I speak to are having some kind of mental breakdown.

Take right now. I am sat, peacefully, at my laptop in our offic space upstairs. We have wireless internet, not that my computer will have anything to do with it, but my mother has decided that this is the moment- at 12am, to print out her expenses. It's really pissing me off.

Call me spoiled or selfish, whatever. This woman and her twat of a boyfriend exist only as a means of making my life more difficult.

What possesed me to come home for the holidays? Oh I remember, home is where I am style consultant/cleaner/mender of computers/ taxi. What better way to spend my summer?

It's got to the point now where I hear her boyfriend getting up and this sinking, icky feeling materialises in my stomach. He sounds like a horse, all heavy breathing and odd snorting noises. Then he emerges, never wearing more than a pair of pants and sunglasses. I don't know if his eyes are sensitive or whatever, but only a complete tosser does that.

Two weeks on Friday I officially move back to Casa of Freedom and Good People None Of Whom Are Insane.

I keep going there, for long weekends and the like, and the 16th of September cannot come soon enough. I will gladly exchange the loudest man in Spain and his bumbag for communal living.

The other day my Dad asked me if I was going to live at home after I graduate.

I told him I would live in a cardboard box with tramps before going back There.

Only Me.

2005-08-11T21:53:00.000Z

Right, so I got a WHOLE load of shit to talk about.

So. I've been working as a sales assistant in a shop called Lush in the day. It's all natural, handmade, fair traded, etc, stuff, so it's morally right up my street. I get freebies and my hair and skin look amazing now.

Up until a few days ago I worked at my local but then the landlord did a runner because the pub went into admin.

Could only happen to me.

And he owes me a weeks wages.

So I've also been quite the serial dater. I met a guy called Chris a few weeks ago, tongue piercing, sweet, but didn't want to pay for anything and got all shirty when he found out I was seeing someone else. And it wasn't like I told him I was comitted so we left him at that.

The someone else is called Arron. I met him last summer and he looks like Simon Le Bon but I never thought he would fancy me. But someone told him and I got this text saying basically, lets get it on. So we did. Then he got all shirty cuz I'm seeing two other people but it's okay now. And he takes me out proper and pays for everything but sometimes I think hes too nice for me. And he's always saying he can't get feelings for me because I'm at Uni. Such bollocks.

The other one is Ricky. He came into the pub every Thursday after playing football in little shorts and I used to shamelessly perve on him. Then one night he stayed later than usual and him and his mate were bugging me for my number. Apparantly he'd fancied me for weeks. So he picked me up in his BIG YELLOW SPORTS CAR and it was love. He's an architect and amazing in bed and built his own house and pays for everything.

So yeah. I'm seeing a lot of Ricky and occasional bits of Arron. I like being taken out and told I'm pretty and clever and have fabulous shoes.

And workwise, apart from the big pub cock up, Lush love me, apparantly my need to talk about bollocks all the time is good for customers, as is my vast knowledge about hair and skincare. I'm loving the free stuff and the discount, and the people that work there are brill. We have an insane manager from Sheffield with a mad Yorkshire accent and amazing taste in music.

Thats all I can think of today.

2005-08-09T14:55:00.000Z

Ah, hello?

I have taken, ahem, a rather large blog holiday and I can only apologise. I just simply haven't had time, and I mean that. I work a 50 hour week and my spare time is spent sleeping or socialising.

I logged on to my emails and felt so ashamed cuz everyone was so worried, it was so sweet of you all, and thanks so much.

Its been a crazy few weeks. I am now the owner of a lovely house in Leeds, only minutes away from where one of the London bombers lived. That's all very surreal. I've dated a whole load of guys and have had a crazy time catching up with old school friends.

I got to get to work, and I bet no one will read this cuz I bet you all think I've fucked off!

If you read this, will you spread the word?

Ermmm...

2005-06-26T23:23:00.000Z

So for a week now, I have sat down at the computer many, many times, hands poised over the computer to try and describe what happened to me last weekend on my date.

Sadly, words fail me, so there's only one way to put it.

It was complete and utter torture.

It may well have put me off dating for a very long time.

Quickie.

2005-06-18T01:55:00.000Z

So as soon as I decide to start regular blogging, I am exiled to the land of No Internet Access. Argh! It's all fixed now anyway.

It's 2am, and I've just got back from work (pub) and, eeeeeeee, I have a date tomorrow!

This guy I'd never seen before was giving me looks while I was working, so I mentioned this to the boss, adding that I thought he was a bit phwoar. So he took it upon himself to set up a date- I could have died from embarrasment- but this guy is cute and lovely.

So tomorrow, please send me good vibes!

I got my groove back.

2005-06-16T01:11:00.000Z

It's been a while hasn't it?

So, during this little blog holiday, I've been really busy. I'm working here, and at my local, I'm really busting my arse at the gym, and I feel really sorted out, financially, mentally, and physically.

I have money, for once, and I actually really enjoy both my jobs. I go to the gym every other day and I'm discovering all these new muscles, I feel great.

So, now that I am 'sorted' as it were, you can take this as my official return to daily blogging. The past two weeks at home, I've felt like I have nothing to say. I was unemployed and between semesters, there wasn't really much going on with me, and my head was really just a bit empty.

I still don't have anything resembling a man, but I'm working on it.

Sorry, but...

2005-06-08T18:51:00.000Z

I've been completely shit at posting of late haven't I?

Truth is, since Monday, I've been really busy. And when I say busy, I mean productive busy, not pissing about doing fuck all busy. I've got a job in a pub- making that 2 jobs in total, and I started that this week. It was also my friend's birthday. I've read 5 books in two days and there is one other thing.

The gym. I actually booked a one to one with a trainer, Sam, that I wasn't in love with, to get a program that is really challanging. So, I turned up on time and my favourite trainer- Ashley- who is possibly the most beautiful human being alive- said he'd be doing my program because Sam was ill.

Then the doom took over me. Ashley is the one my Mum calls 'the nasty one' because apparantly he really pushes people and has been known to make people cry. But I was brave. Internally, I knew that it was EXACTLY my luck for this to happen, but I also realised this might actually be a good thing for me.

So I told him about how I had returned to uni in May, and drank more in a month than many people will ever drink in their entire lives, and then became realy unfit because I was too hungover to do anything. I told him that I actually intended to go to the gym and work out, that I didn't want to be like those women who turn up in a push up bra and make up and do yoga in the weights room in a sad attempt to pull.

It started off just fine. We did all my cardio and chatted about uni, school, places to go out in Nottingham. I spoke about the overwhelming stupidosity of men these days, and he accused me of being picky. Of course I'm picky! If I wasn't I would end up with one of the men from Saturday night. Most had their shirts tucked in (big mistake) and had completely tragic hair. Well sorry. I'm going to be picky and I'm going to like it.

So back to the story. We moved to the weights, and foolishly, by then, I'd been fooled into thinking he was a nice person. So first machine was the leg press, which I normally do about 60-70kg on- I was told to lift my own body weight on this one. Well he told me that wasn't good enough and kept putting it up until we got to 110kg. It was like lifting my father! I was making sex faces. After that, there were many horribly heavy weights he made me do, and I was actually quite scared at how much I can lift when I try. Then he told me we'd run out of time and could come back at 10am tomorrow?

So 10am yesterday, earliest I've been up for about a year, I turned up, to do my arms and abs. This time, he underestimated how strong I am. Setting all the weights way lower than I normally do, he kept putting them up, and then pulling some odd faces. He said he didn't know many girls this strong- I felt so proud- then realised this makes me a total manbian. Who finds 'I am freakishly strong!' attractive?

Then we had a little argument over music- I won't go into it, but he did tell me to buy an mp3 player, and set me some impossibly difficult ab exercises. Then, made me make an appointment for 3 weeks time for a review. He asked me if I intended to stick to it- frankly, I'm too afraid not to. So I returned to the gym today, and had to find him having forgotten how to use ALL the machines.'I thought you'd forget' he said. Tosser. He wasn't even impressed that I had bought an mp3 player that very day!

Speaking of mp3 players, for all my love of music, I am shockingly behind in devices to play it. I've only been downloading music for about a year, my car still has no 'sound system' to speak of, and I have only owned an mp3 for a day. I always said, when I could afford it, I'd get a CD player and proper speakers in my car- but that day never came. But I bought a really cheap mp3 player- only £40. So instead of having the gym's completly shit dance music, I now have a proper soundtrack.

For cardio, it's Mylo, Prodigy, Basement Jaxx and a bit of garage. Then I have rnb music by female artists for when I do other stuff- see, when I think I've done enough, I'll be reminded that JLo, Ciara, and the rest have really good bodies and that motivates me!

So I may not be posting much in the next couple of weeks, I need to kick my arse into shape. To be honest, between working two jobs (I'm doing 50 hours a week, eek!) and brutal new gym program, and of course, going out, I'm too tired to even go shopping. But it's good for me, and once I look gorgeous (we hope) I will return to posting all the time. Okay?

Books

2005-06-05T19:01:00.000Z

Home has been an interesting experience so far. Sadly Big Brother 6 is taking up alarming chunks of my time- I love Saskia. Aside from that, I wandered half dressed in the rain while my car had an MOT, I witnessed my father's girlfriend destroy some perfetly good veggies, and I resumed The Plan.

I also got accosted by a group of middle aged men. No, scrap that. They were old. I was accosted by a group of old men last night. Me and Rachel were clearly having a conversation, and were not giving anyone the eye, the come on, or any 'signals'. Yet we were propositioned by a harem of office workers on night release, who promised a night of 'hotness'. I told Mr Hotness, that seeing as I was only 19, and he is what, about 90?, that a night of geriatric love was about as appealing as a long cold drink of battery acid. I said should our quest for a fit young thing fall through, I'd be in touch, but that frankly there was more chance of me beating myself to death with an old shoe.

Honestly, why do they bother? Personally, I wouldn't date anyone older than around 24, I just don't do older guys. Perhaps I should put it on a t-shirt? 'If there's a chance you could have fathered me, then please piss off- this girl buys her own drinks, drives her own car, pays her own bills'.

My mother and her complete loon of a boyfriend woke me up at 8am this morning by playing some loud Spanish folk music. I opened my bedroom door and made some incoherable noise about it being the middle of the night, etc, only to be met by a barrage of Spanish abuse. Someone's going to get hurt....

PJ passed this to me. Do go and read his blog, he, like most British people, is super cool.

Estimate the total number of books you’ve ever owned in your life?
Oh crap, about 500.

What’s the last book you bought?
On Friday I bought Bridget Jones, The Edge of Reason, by Helen Fielding; Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood, by Rebecca Wells; and House of The Spirits by Isabel Allende.

What’s the last book you read?
I finished Divine Secrets this morning. Absolutely amazing book.

List 5 books that mean a lot to you.

1.The Buddha Of Suburbia by Hanif Kureishi- An ex gave me this, and my copy is so battered and worn, it's my favourite book. The protagonist, Karim, has one British parent, and one foreign parent, and a younger brother. His Dad leaves for another woman, and Karim has to deal with a lot of shit. It's so funny, and the family is just like mine, it helped me so much to cope with my parents, and their divorce and everything. I read this book all the time and never get bored of it.
2.White Teeth by Zadie Smith- This is also about mixing cultures, and I love all the different stories and time periods in it. It's such a funny book with some amazing characters in it.

3.Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson- Part of my love for this book stems from the fact that it's set in the north, and I love northern humour. The things it exposes about religion are extremely revealing, and the fact that I don't believe in religion helped me identify with it.

4.The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath- I did an essay on this, and compared it to Oranges, above. A very powerful book.

5.One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez- I think this is the most beautifully written book I've ever read. It covers so much and yet I found every bit incredibly interesting. It's a little bit of Colombian history, and there are a lot of characters, but they remind me of my mother's family.

I know, I'm supposed to pass this on, but just anyone who feels like doing it, do it.

Bye bye Leeds.

2005-05-31T15:15:00.000Z

So it seems today is the day I leave my city flat for the house in the middle of nowhere. You can expect posts about the inane boredom that comes from living in the countryside, about the shit weather, about the pollen, and of course, the familia. My mother, whose idea of cooking is to fry the entire contents of the fridge and cover it in cheese. And her insane boyfriend and my brother.

No longer will be the tales of drunken clubbing, shopping, pulling, and evil flatmates. Instead I shall thrill you with my stories of sober nights in the pub because I have to drive everywhere, ex boyfriend sightings, and the horror of sharing a bathroom with my younger brother, whose idea of hygiene is questionable. Shopping will become a trip, not a daily habit. And I have to travel 30 minutes by car, 5 minutes by tram, and 5 minutes by foot should I wish to be in a city.

And I will be all alone. Ali has gone to Scotland- wtf?! it gets hot so she goes to the coldest, most miserable part of the UK!?- to do voluntary work. She tells me she's really enjoying not wearing make up and 'being at one with the land'. It would take an apocolypse for me to leave my room without make up and the only time I ever want to feel 'at one with the land' is when I'm dead. Stacey is going to Ibiza- lucky bitch- all bloody summer. Jackie has her boyfriend, and he just happens to be the sibling of the twat James, so I may stay away from that one.

And of course, my pulling partner Rach went and got herself a bloody boyfriend and I haven't heard much from he since. So that leaves either my guy friends. And they pose problem. If I bring them round to the house, my Mum categorizes them- gay or fancies me- and that's it. And god forbid that anyone in the 'fancies me' category comes nto my bedroom. Then all I get is 'everything alright in there' or 'do you want a cup of tea' or 'it's 6pm (!), and getting late!' every 5 minutes.

Other people's parents don't do this. They understand that having lived away from home for the best part of year, that maybe, just maybe, it's time to let go and not ask 'where are you going?' all the time. Of course, I understand that it is not my house, but I don't come in drunk late at night, I don't eat all the food or hog the tv. And everytime I say 'Surely Mother, it is time for me to go about my business without having to answer 20 questions about my every move? It's not like I live a rebellious lifestyle? I'm 19!', she replies 'I know how old you are, I gave birth to you, just be grateful we don't live in Venezuela'.

Oh yes, Venezuela. Recently came in the bottom 10 states for gender equality. Lovely country, where, at the age of 18 I was not permitted to walk down the street on my own, stay out after 9pm, look at a man, talk to a man, or smile at strangers. Why? 'Because you are a woman'. Never mind that I live alone in the city with the highest amount of crime in england.

And I really hope she doesn't try and tempt me onto a family holiday. If it's not to land-where-I-may-as-well-be-nine-Venezuela, it'll be to some place where I have to deal with her and her boyf 24/7 and someone will get hurt. And it would be somewhere obscure, just to make sure I can't go clubbing, or shopping, or make friends.

I just don't want to move away from Leeds. Nature doesn't do it for me. I am a city person, the crime doesn't bother me. And there are less bees. If it wasn't for my car, I don't know what I would do to escape.

He's a dick. In fact, they are ALL dicks.

2005-05-30T19:10:00.000Z

*This post is long and very full of Brit slang. I've put a glossary at the bottom to help you read!*

A brief summary of my weekend: Friday: No he didn't call. Saturday: Went out again, met a guy, gave him my number. He's texted but I don't want to see him- he smokes. Sunday: Went out, spent £27, that's the equivalent of $49, just on cocktails. I had 5 cocktails, shared a jug with 3 people, then a jug to myself. I still didn't feel that drunk.

England, and in particular, Leeds, suck. The men are all complete tossers. My only remaining single friend (Rach got a boyf!) Sophie, was saying that maybe it's just a Leeds thing. She says that she has not pulled one man and finds the whole process much easier at home. Now, I would say that I have improved in experience since starting uni, but I never had a shortage of men at home. So wtf?! I get more attractive but no one wants me? Should I revert to having horrible unflattering short hair with about ten colours in it? Perhaps if I wear hideous ill-fitting clothes I will suddenly appear more attractive?

In the bar last night, we got IDd, then had a giggle over everyone's driving licenses. Everyone looks awful. Yet all three of us had a steady stream of men back then. Yet all I got this weekend was no-call guy and then Sat nite guy, who I would date apart from several things. First, it hapenned to be a uk urban night, and I was chuffed cuz they were playing Roots Manuva, Pay As U Go and the like. Anyway, there's this song, Stand Up Tall by Dizzee Rascal, and I love this song- all of us do- and this guy's bugging me. But he's fit so I stop and talk. Then he asks why I'm there if I'm not from London. Wtf?! He's all 'UK garage is a London ting!'. I really cannot be bothered to argue with this man, he's a total knobsack. So I really want to get back to this song, but he is persistent. Then he tells me I'm fit and asks for my number, and I give it to him to get him off my back. The he says 'Are you Asian?' which is insane, a lot of my friends are Asian, but they are obviously darker, and well, Asian. Then he starts smoking so I just escape.

That is the only kind of man I can get.

And I know it's not the kind of places I go to. I went to a old school hip hop night, an urban night, and an indie/ funky house night, and yet all the men are the same.

You've got metros, trendy boys, indie boys, bad boys, chavs, gangstas and the weirdos. I don't want any of them! There is only so much pulling you can do before it gets totally demoralizing. If they aren't the kind that calls, then they are making random claims at your ethnicity, telling you what music to listen to, or whatever. I remember a time when all I had to do was make eye contact and you'd pulled. I had a great little life. In fact I had a bloody sex life, which is something painfully missing right now.

I'm very mardy and hungover and I'm supposed to be moving out today, yet I am still in pyjamas, in bed, eating a load of fried stuff with cheese. I know I'm going to be so foul mouthed and sulky. I hoped writing this would help, but it hasn't. I guess my family are going to have to deal with me giving everyone evils. I hope to god my mother doesn't try and talk to me about contraception, or aids, or the size of my arse. All those years she spent keeping me away from boys and stopping me wearing make up and now all she does is nit pick and match make. I swear, I would sooner prostitute myself on ebay than date one of her suited, smarmy reps. Ergh.

And no doubt all her friends will come over and start their childish competing. Mum will start talking about how I've started getting writing jobs, and I've done so well (ha!) at uni, then when asked if I have a boyfriend she'll probably make one up or say I'm a lesbian. My Mum was championed back in the day, because she never let me have boys in room, boys overnight (still doesn't) and was generally a little mussolini when it came to dating. Now she throws me at whoever, or whatever, in some cases, and people say 'Poor Oleyda with the daughter that no one wants'. I'm not shitting you.

I don't get it- it's not like I enjoy being single. I like the freedom, but not, quite honestly, the lack of a sex life. People can't put ideas into my head that were there anyway. No amount of discussion with my friends, my mum, random stranger in club toilets, is going to improve the situation.

Thing is, I almost wish there was something wrong with me so I had a reason. But there isn't. I can talk about anything, music, fashion, football, sex, food, porn, whatever. I am not clingy, I'm not too nice, and no, I don't try too hard. Then there's the way I look. I've posted photos here but they aren't me. I mean, they are of me, but are a piss poor representation of what I actually look like. I am often drunk when near a camera, and I just look shit in photos anyway. So trust me when I tell you I am not hideous. So what gives?

Okay, I think I will make pancakes tonight, then I will watch Frida (didn't let no man mess with her), Y Tu Mama Tambien (perve on Gael Garcia Bernal), and Amores Perros (more perving on Gael) and hopefully I'll pick up some more Spanish. So when I fuck off to Spain, where, despite looking like most of the women there, I am actually considered a catch. And the men are actually men, not prissy metros afraid to show any sign at all of actual attraction.

I look Spanish, and I speak Latin American Spanish with an English accent, so that is always a conversation starter with anyone. The guys are gorgeous, and nice, and they are amazing in the sack. I had sex with a Spanish guy on holiday, and frankly, nothing has been good enough since. It's cuz they can dance.

(The Spain thing, by the way, is real. The company my Mum works for have offered me a job in their press office in Barcelona when I graduate.)

Whats my point?! Right. I should just wait to go to Spain. I will accept that British men are complete dicks. Total cocksuckers who can go to hell if they think I'm going to give them the time of day. I am not going to try anymore. Yes, so it was part of the plan, but anymore rejection will be detrimental to my mental health.

V's vocab.
tosser- a stupid guy
Leeds- Capital of the north!
UK Urban- a genre of music originiating in London, a bit of hip hop, bit of r n b, bit of drum and bass
chuffed- happy
Roots Manuva- my fave london mc
Pay As U Go- hardcore drum and bass, my little bro loves them
Dizzee Rascal- genius
bugging me- pissing me off to great extent
fit- good looking, nice body
UK garage- genre of urban, deep bass, fast paced
ting- a london way of saying 'thing'
knobsack- the worst kind of man
Asian- someone from around India/ Pakistan
indie- non mainstream rock
funky house- shit dance music
metro- Metrosexual
trendy boy- metro but less gay
indie boy- fit
bad boy- wannabe gangsta
gangsta- scary
chav- dire
pulling- the art of finding a man
mardy- moody
evils- a nasty look
nit pick- irritate
in the sack- in bed

It's about time.

2005-05-28T13:45:00.000Z

I feel a bit of a twat writing this, feels a bit premature. But here goes.

I met someone really nice last night.

I'm so happy I've been singing Joss Stone songs all morning.

Anyway, I ended up in MPV last night, sadly there was no Summer of 69, but some proper old school rnb which is always good. I was on a proper mission last night, speaking to so many blokes, then I found a good one.

I shamelessly bumped into him- great way to start talking to someone, and then we just didn't stop. We spoke for hours and I know he's a good one. He can dance, he likes good music, and he told me he had noticed me before. He kept doing that thing I read about in Cosmo, where they keep touching you, like on your arm or your back, very intimate and a good sign. He didn't run away when I went to the loo. Then when someone took my stool he offered me his. Then we walked to get food, he bought me food, then we walked to get a taxi and he paid for all that. Then I got his number, and then he kissed me on the cheek and I went.

There was no attempt at sex, no scary snogging, no weird behaviour. And he's gorgeous.

But it gets better.

I get into my flat, and after cringing at the state of my hair- loose waves became scary curls- and some attempts to remove all the make up, there was a beep. He had texted me already- it said 'Hey (my real name) it was an absolute pleasure meeting u tonight. speak to u soon. sweet dreams. sleep tight. x'. Now my inner girly girl analyzed this in a bout 5 seconds. Speak to u soon= good sign. sweet dreams= random but cute. x= another good sign. I love it when guys text you straight away, seriously, men, if you want to impress someone, don't be a twat when it comes to texting.

I think I'll watch Dirty Dancing again, and maybe Pretty Woman.

Anyway, I'm all squiffy this morning, I can't believe I pulled! And he didn't say I was scary! I hope to god that he's as nice as I remember.

What night is not improved by a bit of The Swayze?!

2005-05-27T17:00:00.000Z

I did my last exam!!!!!!

It was my Spanish oral, and I said the worst thing: Me gusta Venezuela porque la cerveza esta barato y los muchachos son hermoso.

My tutor didn't look impressed.

Then I was bad. I went shopping. I spent £53 in Elizabeth Arden, very, very bad! Then look what I found:

And I ate them all.

I made an end of exams/beginning of summer cd. Here it is....

The Boys of Summer- The Ataris- best song ever
California- Phantom Planet- well I'm not in the oc, but I can pretend
Last Summer- Lost Prophets- good summer song
She's Electric- Oasis- cuz I am!
Dakota- Stereophonics- Kelly Jones is hot
Californication-Red Hot Chilli Peppers- yeah so I'm obsessed with California and Anthony Kiedis is hot
The Day We Caught The Train- Ocean Colour Scene- britpop rules
Rio- Duran Duran- I love Duran Duran!!!!! and Simon le Bon is still hot
Summer of 69- Bryan Adams- just because
Super Duper Love- Joss Stone- this cd did not leave my car last summer
Beautiful- Snoop and Pharrel- reminds me of Venezuela and Pharell is hot
Crazy In Love-Beyonce- I don't care who hates her
True- Jaimeson- can't beat a bit of uk garage
Ooh Wee- Mark Ronson- good to dance to
Move Your Body- Nina Sky- latin pride!!!!!
Romeo- Basement Jaxx- I listen to this far too much
The Time Of My Life- Bill Medley and Jennifer- oh like I need to explain!
9 to 5- Dolly Parton- whats not to love?
Nasty Girl- Destiny's Child- put it on in a club and laugh at the sluts

Yeah say what you like about my music taste, but that's my soundtrack for the weekend. My flatmate gave me evils when I saw her earlier. I have played so far, today, Best of Bon Jovi, Appetite For Destruction (Guns n Roses), and Best of Aretha Franklin. I sang along to all three Cds probably louder than was necessary. I think 'Always' tested her patience somewhat.

I have so much to celebrate. I made it through first year, I went to all my exams, I'm broke and single. But most importantly, the Spice Girls are playing at Hyde Park this summer!!!! Oh my holy mother fucking god if don't go to London and see them then I may never get over it. The Spice Girls were a vital part of my early adolescence. I had the platform trainers! The union jack dress! I was only 10 so it didn't matter! Have you ever felt so proud to be British?!

Tonight they better play 'Summer of '69', I want to be drinking something vile and blue, singing about 'the best days of our life', and I expect tonight will end with me and Sophie clutching each other, declaring our love when they play that Dirty Dancing song. I may not have my own all-dancing, all-looking-hot-when-wet Swayze, but I have the best friends in the world.

Anyway, I'm going to watch Dirty Dancing, then have the cd on and get ready for tonight. Can you believe I've done a whole year of my degree?! Snaps for me!

And I have a bottle of vodka that isn't going to drink itself- have a good weekend!!

In search of boy jeans.

2005-05-26T23:24:00.000Z

Can I talk about fashion for a bit?

Okay. I love to shop, I have a bit of an addiction to be honest, and I get shamelessly happy from buying something new. Unfortunately the two places I've ever lived in are among the best for shopping in England. And England is so small I can always get the train to London or Manchester for stuff. I've been known to get the Eurostar to Paris.

Is it shameful to go to another country in search of the perfect jacket? Paris is only a few hours, but still. I shouldn't cross borders just to shop.

There are a lot of trendy people here. See, theres being stylish, being fashionable, being funky, and being trendy. (I worked this out in my lectures, much more fun than books). Trendy people are very experiemental. Some look quite odd, but, you know, their clothes, their money.

Personally, I dress a bit funky. I take influence from fashion, but I believe in sticking to what suits me, basics from high street shops with a few individual pieces. I hate fussy, patterned, frilly, detailed, busy clothes. I like simple stuff. Always tops in one colour, and jeans. I love to get bags, belts, shoes, and jewellery from either really obscure shops, or boutiques. Theres the Corn Exchange in Leeds where I get things by independant designers and vintage. Nottingham is just full of wicked shops as well.

I had a point to all this. Yes. I went to get some more jeans today. I own eight pairs, which is actually quite a lot, but they are all ho jeans. I mean, they are girly and clingy. Well I decided I needed some boy jeans today. The kind that I can wear with flip flops and just mess about in. So I went to Blue Rinse, a vintage shop that I am slightly scared of cuz I never feel trendy enough for it. I go in with my ho jeans and everyone else looks androgenous and weird. Ooh, and by the way, I'll be posting a story about a guy I met in there on the other blog.

Anyway, I got some vintage 501s, in a 34", and I'm 30" so they hang off me. I love them. See, I can wear them with vest tops and not look like a ho. I wore them with a bikini and a shirt to the pub and did not look like a ho. With the butt tight jeans it would have been a different story.

See how happy I get from a bloody pair of jeans? I also got some fabulous vintage jewelery on the cheap, but don't get me started on that.

When I was younger I wore some insane clothes. In my school fashion was all about reflecting your music tastes. I like all sorts of music, so I had a very random look. Now, everyone tries to be very individual. Leeds students must look really odd to other people.

How you look is important, to me it is anyway. I'm always after something. This week it was the bikini, then the wrap top, then the jeans. One thing that bugs me with other people's blogs is that you don't know how they dress. That sounds random, but I love seeing what other people wear, I guess that's the girl in me.

It's always interesting what guys wear. I'm not the kinda girl to change a guy, but I've never been happy with the attire of any guy that I've dated. Are American guys as crap as British guys when it comes down to your wardrobes? It's always jeans, t shirt, trainers. So dull. But if a guy shows too much interest then he's probably gay or headed that way. I'm always suspicious when a guy doesn't react to the number of shoes I have (it's over 40 pairs).

Help.

2005-05-25T23:50:00.000Z

Okay, I need help with another thing. Cookies.

I really like to cook. I'm good at it too. I'm just waiting for some guy to marry me so I can feed him food all day and be a housewife. Okay, maybe not, but I like feeding people. But I cannot find a good cookie recipe. They're too cakey. I've tried loads and they just come out as little cake mounds. They taste nice, but I want cookies. It's not a huge deal, but I would like to be able to make cookies.

So if you make good cookies, want to help me out?

Oh, and any dating advice can be thrown my way as well.

Seriously.

Yes Mum, despite leaving home and having my own separate life, you just come and interfere all you like.

2005-05-25T20:00:00.000Z

I have a predicament, and it involves parents. I don't see much of my Dad, and he rang me the other day, cuz my Mum had told him we should see more of each other. I was so pissed off at my Mum, cuz I am more than old and mature enough to sort out my own personal relationships, and she just shouldn't have. So I told her today that I was annoyed and there was little to no reaction from her. Does she honestly think I'm 9, not 19?

I know my Dad doesn't want much to do with me and he knows that I don't want much to do with him. Why, why, why do parents insist on playing happy families? Is this normal parent behaviour?

I think if my Dad wanted to see that much of me, he wouldn't have fucked off five years ago and had a heap more kids. It was a horrible conversation. Him: 'How are you?' Me: 'Yes yeah, I am still alive, glad you remembered, hows the baby factory going?'. My parents hate each other. Is it that bad that my Mum has to ring him up and insist he calls me? It was better left alone.

The orange girl.

2005-05-24T20:00:00.000Z

I am unnaturally orange, and it happens to be my natural colour.

My flatmate sent me photos from Sat nite and I am positively radioactive.

I always knew I was, well, darker than many English people, but now I am acutely aware that I glow an entire different colour.

Look at this photo:

I am the orange girl in the middle with the glowing cheeks clutching a mysterious blue drink.

And again:

There's that blue drink again. Everyone looks pink and I look orange. Look at those arms! So orange and pudgy. Why can't I be all bronzed like my mother? No one else is orange.

This post is extremely self involved. Seriously, how do I overcome looking so orange?

Transistions.

2005-05-23T16:30:00.000Z

There's something I do every summer, always round about this time. I make a plan. Since I was around 12, I always kept a diary and would make a list of all the things I wanted to do that summer and would then keep a record. Like a great multi-tasking demon, I always do the things on the list, I keep them within reason and I love getting to September and knowing I've done all these things.

Everyone that reads this and comments is older than me, and may not relate to this entirely, but it's weird how much your life changes each year when you are in your teens. Only 3 years ago I was still in a school uniform, intepreting the rule for 'tights' as 'bright pink fishnets worn over opaque black tights' and listening to Fiona Apple and being sulky. The academic year runs from September to June/July so summer is my transistional period. It's the end of a school year and things move so quickly at this age.

So since I started secondary school when I was 11 I kept a summer plan. It's a strange feeling knowing you have all these months ahead of you with nothing to do. So I need to do it to give myself goals. All through the school year my head is filled with deadlines, exams, reading, boring stuff and I think it's important to develop yourself personally as well as academically.

Without my plan, I would never have gone on holiday when I was 17, read most of the classics when I was 16, or gone to Leeds festival when I was 14. A lot of the stuff when I was younger revolved around manipulating my parents or getting money to do something, or pulling some guy. I'm ashamed to say it hasn't really changed since then!

This year has obviously been a crazy one for me. I've left home, moved to a new city, completed the first year of my degree and finally my independant streak that battled with whoever supressed me, has been set free. My personal relationships, with old friends, new friends, and family have been tested and I feel like I'm in a good place with the people around me. There's not enough space to talk about all the experiences I've had this year, but I've definately learnt more this year than any other in my life.

And I'm happy. Superficially, and deeply happy. I have looked forward to University ever since I first stepped into school, with it's sadistic 'teachers'. Now, when people ask me how I've been, I smile and say I'm doing great. I know I complain a lot, but the blog is my proverbial whine-box (like a swear box) and if you knew me in real life, I'm quite upbeat.

There's always room for more though, and this year is no different. I don't want to turn into who I was over the easter hols- fat and wandering around in pyjamas, smoking and drinking myself comatose every night. And I wondered why no one fancied me.

I've made another blog for my plan and I'll be writing in it twice a day. Once in the morning and once at night. I'll be talking about my progress, and hopefully ticking some boxes. This will still be my blog, but I need the other one to talk about calories, miles I've ran, men I've pulled, and generally anything related to my plan. It's of no interest really to anyone but myself so I don't want it on here. It won't affect what I write on here.

If you should wish to comment on it, which is highly unlikely (sample quote 'I ate a pizza at 5am, that doesn't count, right?') please email me cuz I want it separate from this blog and I don't want to have comments on that page, cuz, well I just don't.

So for the next four months, if you wish to view my progress, it will be here. It's only the random whining of a 19 yr old desperate not to turn into Bridget Jones, but it's another me.

Two at once.

2005-05-22T16:22:00.000Z

So I got tagged twice, so it's all at once, music and films.

Music
Total volume of music files on my computer?
Erm. I dunno. I only really download songs when I don't want the whole album. I love new Cds, don't ask why. There are 295 songs on my media player, but I have hundreds of Cds.

The last CD I bought was?
Who Is Jill Scott? by Jill Scott.

Song playing right now?
Romeo by Basement Jaxx

Five songs I listen to a lot or that mean a lot to me.
1. Boys of Summer by The Ataris- The perfect summer song, I love it.
2. Under The Bridge by The Red Hot Chilli Peppers- My fave song by the first band I fell in love with.
3. Golden by Jill Scott- Every single girl should listen to it.
4. Babe I'm Gonna Leave You by Led Zeppelin- I've been having a love affair with Led Zep ever since my Dad played me this song.
5. You Sent Me Flying by Amy Winehouse- My break up song, perfectly written.

I'm passing this onto:
Samantha
Rafe
Jess
Wondywoman
Scientist Dan

Films
Total number of films I own on dvd?
13.

The last film I bought?
The Motorcycle Diaries.

The last film I watched on TV?
The Magdelene Sisters

In the cinema?
The Wedding Date

Five films that I watch a lot or mean a lot to me.
1. The Way We Were- 'Your girl is lovely Hubbel', because it isn't your typical happy ending.
2. Dirty Dancing- 'No one puts Baby in the corner' I grew up to this film and can now recite the entire script. Sad, I know.
3. West Side Story- My favourite musical, I learnt all the dances as a kid and I love it, really well made.
4. Amelie- Gnomes! Photos! Sex shops!
5. Breakfast At Tiffanys- Well of course. I have to admit I watch this at least once a month.

I'm passing this onto:
1. Martinilove
2. KelBel
3. Luke
4. Amber Lynn
5. Annalisa

Anywhere but here.

2005-05-20T20:20:00.000Z

Why do you think, from June to September, English people in droves fall over each other for cheap holidays to the Med and North Africa? Why? Because England sucks in summer. We were deprived of a summer last year. We had so many miserable barbies in the garage, drinking our beer and staring at the sky, willing the clouds to part and drown us in sunshine.

Every year we escape to Spain or Greece and enjoy the 'culture' of cheap drinks, passing out and roasting yourself silly. I've already been to Gran Canaria this year, but because of stupid car insurance, rent, furnishing an entire house, and other ridiculous costs, I can't afford to see a beach until at least September. Four months. I need a beach right now. And no, it can't be Cornwall, or, god forbid, Skegness, because they are icky and dirty.

Sometimes I just get so sick of this island. It's so rainy and depressing. There is no way in hell I'm living here when I'm older. I don't think anyone will be. All my friends talk about, is going to Morroco, Spain, Portugal, Greece, anywhere but here. It hurts that all these countries are so damn close as well. Morroco, where I'd love to visit most, is only a few hours flight.

When I was 17, I went to Corfu, a very beautiful greek island. Apart from the usual mayhem, it was amazing to be surrounded by such natural beauty. The sea only came up to our waist for miles, and little fishes swam around you. The water was really warm and totally clear. It's my idea of paradise, just being in an amazing beach. Look.

Last summer I spent six weeks travelling around Venezuela. I slept outside, on the beach, under the stars, and have never been happier. I ate fish that I caught myself and went to the rainforest, the dessert, the Andes, and all along the north coast with my cousin. Sometimes I would get upset, and my cousin assumed I just missed home. I was upset because I could have lived there. I will never know what possesed my mother to live in England. Look where she grew up.

Yeah she actually grew up right next to that beach. The carribean coast was on her doorstep. My grandfather was a fisherman and they practically lived on the beach. It is one of the most beautiful beaches in the world, yet she swapped it for grey, gloomy England. My cousins, of all ages, come home from work or school, and spent all their evenings on the beach, drinking beer, talking, and weekends are spent having fiestas. This is the sunset. You can't see clearly, but when the sun is on the horizon, you can she the shadows of the Andes in Colombia. The boat belongs to my Uncle.

I don't care how much money you could earn abroad, look at it! Part of the reason why I want to be a journalist is so that I can travel. I don't care if it pays shit, give me a beach and I'm happy. People that live in the Med, and in Venezuela, live a lot longer because they aren't as wound up as the English. They don't abuse their bodies with horrible food and stress, they just live.

England is not going to deprive me of summers for much longer than I can help it. I won't let this island make me old before my time like it does to everyone else. It can't give me any dreams. I have slept under the light-polluted cold skies of England, and under the shadow of the rainforest of Venezuela. I have a choice. I can be like everyone else and spent the rest of my life working 50 weeks of the year in a dark stuffy office for the sake of a two week's sun in Spain. Or I can leave this island and spend the rest of my life living the holiday.

Breasts!

2005-05-19T23:45:00.000Z

Me again. I had an epiphany that I forgot to mention earlier.

I'm allowed to chat up men in bars!

It never occured to me. While I was sulking over my vodka cosmopolitan, Amanda pointed out, that instead of mourning the fit guy that left the bar, I should have spoken to him. We were doing the eye contact thing. It never occured to me. NEVER. Next time I go out I'll make a point of asking someone out. I must get back into dating. I'm sick of people asking me why I'm single. I tell them it's cuz I enjoy having no sex life and not having to shave my legs as often as I should. Ha!

So tonight I went to Asda and found series one of Coupling for £10. £10!!!! I almost came there and then. I watched Coupling religiously when I was younger, taught me everything I know about British men. They like breasts.

So, the stat meter is interesting. I have a load of people that read this from Britain. This is a good thing. They know what I'm going on about when I make random references to Brit TV and say things like mardy, minging, knackered, and tosser. Anyway, I have been reading two really good British blogs. One is as of a few days ago, and one as of about 10 mins ago. Wondywoman and Shocking Fish. They are quite brilliant. Don't hate me, I like reading everyone's blogs, but I love British blogs purely because references to Celebrity Love Island, crazy frog, and titles of blogs being Take That songs make me laugh. A lot.

I also purchased strawberries, chocolate, cookies, and grape juice (too hungover for vino) and kiwi fruits, so I'm going to watch Coupling and have myself a little orgy. And one last thing.

Breasts!

Do you have any fit friends?

2005-05-19T14:15:00.000Z

I have the words 'Scott Hall Rd' etched onto the back of my hand. Why would I have that you ask? Well, last night I found myself agreeing to go and watch some Irish guys play gaelic football and thats the address. Shameless huh?

I have to write bar reviews for a book, remember? So last night I had to go to a couple of bars and check them out. I went to brb first. Now, I love brb but the people that go in there are twats. They are trendy verging on experimental. Got a new outfit you want to try out? Wear it to brb. Parents throwing out some old clothes? Worry not. Steal them, cut them, tighten them, rip them and you'll feel at home in brb. Anyway, the manager was really nice to me and showed me all the private function rooms.

Then we go to Hakuna Matata, a complete dive in some godforsaken back end of town. It's empty apart from a harem of drunken dirty men in the corner whose eyes light up at the sight of four girls. The staff are hilarious. I ask them when they close - 'whenever the fuck we like'. I ask them about the clientele- 'Twats in suits'. Love it!

Then I go to my fave bar, Tiger Tiger . It's been revamped so I get a bit silly excited. So, we go in and the waitress is Columbian and speaks no English. So, get me, I ask her to get the manager and explain what I'm doing, all in Spanish! Then the manager arrives, and he's gorgeous. I turn into a total girl and he tells me he reads the book in reviewing and offers to show me all around. At this point its just me and Sophie, everyone else kinda went. So the manager who I'm slowly falling in love with, shows me the new restaurant, the new club downstairs, and the VIP room, which is totally pimped up. Then the best bit, he says if I ever want to get on the guest list, with free entry and free drinks, all I have to do is ring up and ask for him. That'll be every week then.

So we get outside and all our friends are there. Why? It was over 21's night and we got in! Ha! I look 21. We end up in Walkabout, where we fall in love with the Australian barmen and drink giant cocktails. Then my friends pull these two Irish guys, so of course I'm all 'Do you have any fit friends?', cuz I cannot resist Irish guys. Yum. And that's how I ended up with this address written on my hand.

Crap.

2005-05-18T16:14:00.000Z

I have an exam in 45 mins on reading poetry and I haven't actually read any poetry.

Later....

I had the worst walk to the exam! I had to do the other walk of shame. The kind where you're reading your texts while you walk. It got worse. I walked past a window and realised I was orange. I was a bit overenthusiastic with the bronzer and didn't notice, never mind, I thought, keep walking. It gets worse. I saw a guy I used to date. A normal person would have stopped and chatted, or just walked by. Not me. I attempted to run away only there was a parked car in the car. So there I was, scrambling around a car looking orange and flustered. Bet he wishes he still dates me...

And the exam. I actually wrote good stuff and it was fine. That natural luck of mine! I'm off to get fucked now.

And when I say fucked, I mean drunk fucked not sex fucked. I think we all know there's more chance of hell turning into a childs theme park than me actually finding a suitable man.

Bring on the martinis....

I just don't care.

2005-05-18T12:28:00.000Z

I'm starting to believe that I am unhealthily lazy. No really. I think I sometimes confuse laziness with being laidback, but lets be honest. I'm lazy. I have an exam in 5 hours. I have attended less than 60% of the seminars, I have not been to any lectures, yet I got good marks on my essays. I'm probably not going to revise. In the past 24 hours all I have done is driven up to Leeds, spent 2 hours in the supermarket buying 10 items, and then sat comatose in front of the computer planning a party via msn with Rach, which isn't until July. And I've unpacked. If by unpacked you mean emptied the contents of my boxes and bags onto the floor.

I have not the slightest inclination to read Beowulf, or the poetry of Wordsworth. I'll sit in the exam and say to my coursemates that I wish I'd revised, but it's sadly not true. I don't regret dedicating the last week to My Wife and Kids reruns.

It's this laziness, I think, that has kept me in my Bridget Jones state. I can't be arsed to chase guys, call them, talk to them, ask them interesting questions. I figure if they like me, they can chase me. They probably think the same thing. Hence why in about a month I'll probably become a virgin again it's been that bloody long.

I think I need to get more bothered about stuff. I just don't have it in me to be motivated when there's nothing in it for me. This year I only have to get 40 out of 90 and right now my average is around 50. I know I'll get 80 at least next year, cuz I'm capable of trying so, so much harder, but right now I don't see the point. I just go through my life from job to job, man to man, self induced crisis to self induced crisis relatively unscathed.

A guy I was dating asked me why I never saw my Dad and I said 'Well he's on his third marriage and doesn't care about the kids from his first marriage, and he's losing interest in me, he's just a miserable man and frankly I can't be arsed with it.' he was so shocked. 'But he's your parent!' he said. I explained that he may have helped create me, but he hasn't been a father. I've had more parenting off my Sex and The City DVDs. And it doesn't bother me, I figure thats my life and I can't change that.

I hate being asked 'but don't you care?'. In my last relationship I was so given up on caring that when he broke up with me I was all 'whatever'. I didn't try and defend the accusations that I'd been cheating. Maybe the trick is, I need someone to make me care. I think guys nowadays are afraid to take control. And if a girl does, she appears clingy or bossy. I just hope that someone will come along and won't take any of my shit. And I'm damn sure he'll be the kind that calls you.

It's over! O-V-A-H!!!!!

2005-05-16T12:53:00.000Z

I love Kath and Kim.

Today I got a stat counter, and oh my. It’s interesting. One person got here by searching for ‘girls getting pierced’. Nice. And another for ‘jaffa cake calories’. Right. I think it gives just too much info. I know exactly what everyone gets up to on my page! Now I’m scared, cuz if other people have this, they’ll think I’m stalking them cuz when I have nothing to do I pretty much live on the computer. Eeek! Oh, and someone visited here that lives in Peterborough, that’s not far from me, weird.

I think I preferred being ignorant.

Before I forget, everyone go to Mrs Mogul’s site and say hi and vote for her in this blogette thing. She’s wicked and a great writer and deserves to win. Go!

I got my car back!!!! Damn thing cost me £270 so no new shoes for a while. No new nothing actually, it’s about cleaned me out, but it drives so nicely now, sounds like a car not a tank. The mechanic told me what went wrong but I’ve totally forgotten all the words he used. But he did tell me that I do not, in fact drive a Ferrari, I drive a Ford Ka and if I continue to drive it like a Ferrari I will probably end up dead. So I drove like I was taught today. No revving, no racing, no inappropriate gears. I slowed down for corners, stuck to speed limits. Frankly, I’ve almost died twice in that car and I think I’m pushing my luck, so no more caning it down the motorway at 100mph. No, I’m going to be a safe driver now.

So, the first thing I did when I got my car was to drive straight into the city. I met Rach and drank about 10 litres of cranberry juice. I’m hooked. The stuff is addictive! Well my mother will be glad to know I won’t be getting cystitis. It was so good to go to bars, and it was so good catching up with Rach, she’s such a good friend. We had a good bitch about the feh that is our sex lives. Some ugly little man tried to chat me up- what is it with little men? I’m 5’4”, men under 5’9” need not apply, GOT IT???

No offence to British blokes that may read this, but where have all the good guys gone? Rach reckons we should clone Rob. All the guys out tonight were either too young, too old, had odd shoes, looked like perves or were just plain wrong. I’m not settling for David Brent look-alikes, I want a hornbag! And do no men have the ability to buy nice shoes? Cuz for the shoe shops they have in Nottingham, I was sorely disappointed at the amount of Uncle Knobhead white slip ons I was seeing!

ps. I just realised that post is littered with references to British TV. If you don’t watch The Office, Peter Kay or Kath and Kim, then you should. Kath and Kim is Australian. Never mind…..

Shameless.

2005-05-15T16:30:00.000Z

I have a horrendous hangover. The kind you only get when you were horrendously drunk the night before. The kind that stays with you all day. It's 4pm and still all I can consume is cranberry juice and ribena. I needed a drink last night, my Mum just got too much. Yesterday, the following situations took place:

1. Me reading a magazine, Mum walks in with her magazine.
Mum: I was just reading this thing about AIDs, as a sexually active young person I think you should take a look.
V: MUM!!!! (hides head in magazine) I don't have AIDs.
Mum: Well, if you're going to have sex you should know about these things.

2. In the supermarket. In front of loads of people.
V: I want to get some cranberry juice.
Mum: Oh do you have cystitis?

3. At the supermarket checkout. My friend Nick is right behind me.
Nick: V, hows things with you and James?
V: Eh, they aren't.
Mum: James? Who's James? You have a BOYFRIEND???
All I hear for the next hour is 'Who's James? What does he do? Is he rich?

Yeah, so maybe I'm being a spoilt bitch, but the lack of car makes me a prisoner in this house and it means I'm never far away from Mum and her boyfriend. So I rang up Rach and suggested she pick me up and take to the pub to get drunk.

I got drunk. I also saw James. His reaction was 'What are you doing here?' Er...I live here fool! and nice to see you too. Then he goes into this big long winded thing about how he lost his phone, couldn't even call his parents, only had the new phone two hours, blah blah blah, whatever. He didn't actually apologise.

So, I drank a hella lot of vodka, and I was smoking, sure sign I was wankered. I don't actually remember that much. I remember talking about handcuffs. I remember an old man laughing at me. I remember falling off my chair. I remember I couldn't walk.

I woke up and my first thought was 'Did I take my makeup off?' I'm such a girl. Turns out I did. Snaps for me. My mouth tasted like a tiny animal spent the night in there. Yum. I was in Jackie's bedroom, which was confusing for about 5 seconds. I went to put my flip flops on and they are destroyed. My designer flip flops shredded! What did I do last night?!

Today I need to have a talk with my Mum. I mean, I have my own house! I have a credit card, a car, I live alone, dammit. I don't need to visit her and be made to feel about 5. Like, I know she says 'You'll be treated like an adult when you act like one', but really. The other day I left a mug on the floor and instead of saying 'Can you put that in the dishwasher?' like a normal person, she goes 'Now where does this go? It doesn't belong on the floor does it?' in a silly voice. Mum. I am bursting with womanhood! I pay my own bills. Let me be!

I love living alone because I can do what I did last night and no ones tuts at me and says alcohol makes you fat. I can buy cranberry juice and not be accused of having a bladder infection. If I walk around in my pyjamas all day I don't get nasty looks. I know all Mums are hard work, but if I hear 'V, when you get married...' one more time I can't be held responsible for my actions.

Okay, I don't want this post to be about my mother. And please, I beg of you, no comments along the lines of 'She's your mother, you should love her for who she is' or 'You're a little bitch'. I can't be doing with it. Yes, she gave birth to me, and for that I am eternally grateful, but I need to do things on my own now.

In fact, I remember James saying last night that he wants to meet her. Why? How strange. I have an observation. I, personally, am really into my clothes. I am really concious of how I look. I know what suits me and I stick to it, with a bit of fashion thrown in. Right now, I'm loving whats in this season, but I know if I wear one of those hippy skirts I'll look about 2' 7" and 50 stone. Some people wear the whole hippy thing and remind me of the characters in 'Little Women'. All big skirts and blouses. Eeek!

What was my point? Fashion. Yes. Well, I hate being seen in the same outfit two times in a row. It takes me forever to get ready. Now every time I see James, he's wearing the same top. Is it just coincidence? I know he owns a lot of tops. But it bugs me. Weird huh? I pointed it out to Rach last night. We agreed we like well- dressed guys.

I was talking to his brother, Rob, who I'm friends with. He told me if I want him I can have him, I just have to chase him. I don't chase. I dunno what to do about this whole situation now. The way I'm thinking now, if he wants me he knows where to come and get it. If not, then he proved that all the good men are either involved or gay or live in some silly place, like London, or France.

Right, time for more cranberry juice.

Whinge.

2005-05-13T21:45:00.000Z

Those of you lovely people that read this as a regular thing will know that things have been somewhat eventful for me lately. That is me. Other people go through life perfectly happy, just go about their business. They don't seem to get themselves into these ridiculous situations. I would complain if my life was boring, and boring it isn't, but sometimes I think, why me?

Sometimes I think I bring it on myself. As a single girl, you're bound to rack up a number of exs, dates and guys you slept with. And growing up in a small town, and then a student community, you're bound to bump into guys and create these situations. I accept that. As a temperamental driver, I'm bound to run into a few car probs. That, I accept quite willingly. I drink and like to go out, and that too, gets me into situations that I would rather not be in. I am perceptive, and notice things like windows that double as ceiling mirrors. I like to help people out, and I like chatting to people, which is how I end up being asked out by a crim in a police station.

You get the gist? I'm just saying, I realise that certain lifestyle choices have created circumstances that some may find laughable, amusing. In hindsight, they are, who wouldn't laugh that I find myself on dates with gangsters and little men? And, I feel like I shouldn't complain, but seriously. Read my archives. You couldn't make up half the stuff that happens to me.

Like, once I went on a horrendous date with a tiny man. I had to escape. Some weeks later it transpires he dated my friend too. And we see him around campus all the goddam time. There are over 60 000 students in this city. Why see him? On Wednesday, I drove home, car went insane, oh look! Theres my ex, theres all my shit in my car, including several empty bottles and my clothes, my underwear, my life. Oh look, it's a year exactly since I almost died last year. Isn't that the strangest thing?

NO!!! It is not. I am cursed. I don't want to complain. I hate people who moan, but this is where I put my thoughts. If you don't want to read what pisses me off then go and look at something happy. Go and look at cute babies or whatever. I need to vent.

I try and live my life good. I am not mean, I eat fair trade dammit! I am polite, I help if I can. Some things that have hapenned, unhappy childhood, parents split, bad relationships, blah blah blah. It happens to a lot of people. We get over it. But it's too much drama. It's like a soap opera. Always something going wrong, always something. I am honestly finding it hard to be an optimist.

Am I whinging? Yeah, thats probably not a word used anywhere but my area. It means to complain, get with the dialect!

Well. I'll tell you where this all came from. James, my whatever, is coming home tomorrow, and I'm here too, and we have the same friends, and, you know. I can feel it. I can feel the drama just waiting to happen. In my head, I can feel it- 'V___ (When I think I use my full name) might be happy. She might be over this guy and ready to move on. Lets shit all over it!'. I just know. It's too much to ask that I can say Hi, he can say Hi, and we can drink our beer in peace and pretend we never had sex, or the hottest kiss ever, or that I made him eggs on toast. Yeah, I know his phones been broke, or he's been busy, whatever. There are phones in this world. He could have called. I just know it's gonna be awkward. Like the time I STUPIDLY slept with two guys at work (not at the same time, get your mind out the gutter!) and then it was the three of us in the staff room pretending there hadn't been some serious exchanging of fluids going on.

Hell, I don't know what to do. Should I ring up my family in Venezuela and ask them to go to church and pray for me? Should I get some clairvoyant to predict my future and take necessary action? Or should I just grow up and deal? I made my hypothetical bed right? I should lie in my provberial bed?

Someone's watching me...

2005-05-12T18:19:00.000Z

Yesterday was one of those days. You know? The kind where you reach a point and you don't think you can carry on? Well I had good reason. Not cuz of some guy, or some weight gain, or even cuz I felt sad. No. I almost died yesterday. I'm not shitting you, I had a car accident.

I came off the motorway, and was driving down my road, and then I completely lost control of the car. It swerved all over the road, including the wrong side of the road. I tried to steer, but it was gone so I slammed the brakes on and missed hitting a tree by half a metre. I have never been so scared in my life. If there had been a car coming the other way, or I had stopped a few seconds later, I would have hit something at 60 mph, and would almost certainly be dead or seriously injured.

But theres more. I got out of the car when it hapenned, obviously in a bit of a state. Then my ex pulls up next to me in his car. He saw the whole thing. He calmed me down, sorted some stuff out for me and then left when my friend came to get me in her car. Why was he there? Then I got home and realised it was May 11th. On May 11th last year I crashed my car and wrote it off, again, I almost died. I can't help but read into it.

Anyway, I'm fine, and the car is fine. I need a new wheel, two new tyres and a service. It's either the tracking or the power steering that needs sorting out, but it shouldn't cost too much. If it had hapenned half an hour earlier I would have been on the motorway, going at 90mph, and god knows what would have hapenned then.

I just don't believe the stuff that goes on in my life. I couldn't sleep last night for thinking of all the alternative endings for yesterday. I can't explain it. Should I just not leave my house on May 11th? And whats with my ex being right behind me? Why wasn't there a car coming the other way? It's a busy road. I feel so sick. Does someone want me dead? Or should I be optimistic and assume I'm being watched? But by what? It's all too weird to be coincidence.

Back in the day....

2005-05-11T13:01:00.000Z

'Come on Jax, I spent most of my teens dating ugly, unintelligent men because I believed everything is worth a shot. Take it from me, if you aren't happy, get the hell out. Or you'll wake up one morning and realise you've spent 20 months dating a fat racist neanderthal who spends half his life stoned.'

Isn't it great how you can be totally honest with your closest friends? This is what I said to my friend last night. Jax is a proper old-school friend. She's one of the group of friends who I'll say absolutely anything to. We went though our skater girl phase, our indie phase, the hippy phase, all together. We discovered festivals, clubbing, drinking, smoking (both kinds), sex, all of that, together.

Anyway, the above comment, I would not say to anyone but them. They know my truth. Jax made me write down all the guys I've slept with. Its not short, and not pretty. I appreciate her making me do it though. We concluded two very important things about each other: Me, I need to wait more before putting out to avoid sleeping with dicks, and Jax, she needs to think about what she really wants, if she thinks she can do better she needs to get out. Isn't it great what you can learn from each other? Together, me and my school friends have 24 years dating experience.

For some people, looking at old photos makes you feel nostalgic, happy, wished you still looked like that. Not so for us. The other day, I was with 3 of my school friends, and Ali, idiot, brought photos. It was a mental hernia. I used to dye my hair red with henna, I customized my clothes. This was before hair straighteners, before eyebrow pencil. We looked like hippy lesbians. Just awful. And the boyfriends? Holy crap. Clearly I wasn't bothered by dating total stoners.

There are some good photos though. Like, our first gig, our year 11 group pic, our year 11 leavers social, our holidays, our results days, our year 13 ball, birthdays... I can see why my Mum hated the way I looked though- my hair colour changed every week, my ears were (still are) heavily pierced, I didn't own a pair of jeans less than 20 years old and I never had a cigarette out of my mouth. This is only three years ago, it's quite scary. The pictures I posted yesterday are from when I stopped being like that.

More than anything, I remember the music. I was in secondary school from 1997 until 2004. It started with the Spice Girls, went on to Alanis Morissette, then Foo Fighters, Red Hot Chili Peppers (so year 10 lying on the school field listening to Cali), then The Strokes and it ended with Joss Stone and Kanye West. We saw so much live music, we discovered every genre, from every time. We were babies during Nirvana, Pixies, Sonic Youth, Primal Scream, we were 9 at the height of Britpop. Didn't stop us from reliving the whole thing again though.

This time of year, summer, always makes me think like this. Each summer has been better than the last. Last summer we were 18 and were legally drinking in the pub. When we were 17 we were learning to drive and then illegaly drinking in the pub. At 16 we had finished our GCSEs and discovering sex. 15 was when I first smoked weed.Now we're 19 and I don't think there's anything left to do! We all have houses and cars, we've done and seen it all.

I remember listening to the Ataris cover of 'Boys of Summer', years ago, and talking about where we'd be in a years time. I forget how exciting it is to be 16 and knowing everything will change in the next 5 years. I never thought I'd stop cutting my own hair, or stop making my own clothes. There's still a bit of the 16 year old me left though. Take a look at my CD collection, it shocks most people. I still wear 7 earrings. I still drink alcohol from the bottle. And I can still make a bong.

What do you remember most about being 16?

Untitled.

2005-05-10T18:45:00.000Z

Today is the first day I have cried over a guy. Am I crazy? I'm not even crying over the right guy. I'm crying over a guy who treated me so badly, I have friends who say they will hit him if they ever see him again. Jamie. He's my Mr Big. The one it never quite ended with, I keep going back and back and getting more and more hurt. He's like a drug. I ran into him today.

I was at the student union. I won't go into our history, but I'll say he has seriously screwed me over and I have seriously screwed him over right back. But I ran into him. I haven't seen him for months, but just looking at him. I could feel myself slipping. Then he texted me- Was so nice to see you, must meet up, blah blah blah. I could have said no, I could have lied, hell, I didn't even have to reply.

I have yet to find someone who makes me feel so strongly. Theres been times when I've hated him, resented him. Times when I've wanted him so badly it hurt. The first time I kissed him I felt it in my entire body. There are no words for the sex. I have never felt so much pure, uninhibited passion. Isn't it weird that passion means rage and infatuation? Cuz that's exactly what it is.

So I got home, threw up and broke down in floods of tears. I'm not as strong as I thought I was. The minute James disappears of the face of this earth, my past comes back with a vengance like I've never seen to drag me down a little further. I can't even see him without getting in a state. No ones going to hold me back. I just keep texting back, keep going back.

I'm so fucking angry I could scream. Cuz I'm young I think it's okay to just leave myself to open to whoever wants to come along and screw me over. They play me like a game. James has hurt me. Really hurt me. Jamie has also hurt me and will continue to do so until I say game over.

You think you're in control. You think as long as you do what makes you happy you're living your life. Scrap that. I'm not happy. I have been single for nearly 12 months. Over half the men I've slept with have been in the past 12 months. What have I gained from this? I'm still naive. I still haven't found my fairytale. Jamie sent shivers down my spine every time he kissed me. He could be anything if we just got past one night.

And James. What makes it worse is that I liked him. Really liked him. I'll be honest with you here- I'm a cheater. I find it hard to be faithful. I've gone from man to man thinking the next one will be the one I don't want to cheat on. Then I get bored and go back to the Jamies of this world. Then I know where I stand. Yes, we'll have sex, yeah we'll get drink and talk all night, but it's just one night. Will I ever get past one night?

I honestly thought that was it with James. I found the male me, and what did he do? He did what I've been doing to guys to me for years. I hate myself for being so young. My inexperience makes me think it's okay to let myself to be treated like this.

I once got asked why I cheated on a guy, the last one I proper went out with. 'I couldn't resist him'. That's what I said. I'm stuck. If I go out with a guy like Jamie we end up screwing around cuz we can't be tied down. I go out with a nice guy and I screw around because I can. Can I break the cycle? Do I want to?

I go for guys that hurt me because I crave excitement. I go for guys that don't hurt me so I can hurt them to make myself believe I'm in control. I let myself behave like this because I can. It's so childish.

It's not even like I make the effort. James hasn't called me. Do you see me actually call him for a change?

I don't know how to end this post. I came in frustrated at my own weakness and needed to get this down. Now I feel like I need to grow up. I'm crying at a situation I created myself. For once, I put my hopes on someone and when it didn't work out I run into Jamie by chance and see no reason why I shouldn't.

James's rejection sent me flying. It shocked me. I should have known better. I have never, ever, hated myself for my age so much.

My best friend.

2005-05-10T11:01:00.000Z

Today is my best friends birthday. I know, I'm too old to use that title 'best friend', but she really is. I've known Ali forever, and ever. I couldn't go home yesterday, so I just wanted to write about how great she is, and how much fun we have. The photo belowis me and her when we were 17. Shes wearing school uniform! That seems like ages ago. She's also licking my ear or something, god knows. She must have been drunk.

That was our results day for year 12. Shortly after that, we went on holiday and that changed everything. She became a friend I know I'll keep forever. Some say I corrupted her on that holiday. Not true. I never had so much fun in my life. I was 17, first holiday without parents. Lethal combination.

So, I persuaded her to pull this guy, below.

He was actually quite cute. Jimmy, his name was. I got it on with his friend Paul, he was fit too. Photo below is me molesting Jimmy!

Poor guy looks frightened. I just look drunk. That was the night we broke into a restaurant and ate all their ice cream. Criminal, yes I know, what can I say?

Ali and I have spent every summer since we were 14 chasing the boys of our little town. Now she has a boyfriend, but she'll always be my pulling partner.

So, happy birthday Ali. Remember the good times. And don't forget I'm coming home this summer so warn your boyfriend!

Also utterly pointless.

2005-05-09T21:32:00.000Z

I just made a massive apple and cinnamon cake and ate half of it. It hadn't even cooled down yet. Wow, that shit was yummy.

I opened the door to my kitchen and someone's blokey piece was there in his pants. He looks like Miranda's neighbour ex, Robert ( sex and the city). I think I came there and then!

Why aren't there more men walking around in their underwear in this world?

Since discovering I have a ceiling mirror it's been haunting me. As I type, I can see myself in my pyjamas. It's like being on Big Brother.

I have far too much time on my hands.

Hello fit man in my kitchen!

2005-05-09T21:09:00.000Z

A few samples of the GOD that is Dr Robert. His real name is Blair Underwood. Whatever, he's in my kitchen and Samantha didn't know what he looked like.

He's in my kitchen! Why can't I have one?

Utterly pointless.

2005-05-09T17:52:00.000Z

Do you ever think you have too much time on your hands? Probably not. Well, as it happens I do. I'm in that weird limbo between finishing uni, and exams. It's too early to cram and yet I have nothing to do. So, I don't want to go home and turn into a chubby barfly again. So what to do? Not a lot, it would seem. My life currently consists of watching dvds, eating, playing with my hair, rearranging my room, and not much else.

Yesterday, I was lying in bed, I'd just got out of the shower and went for a nap. When I woke up I could see myself on the ceiling. Confused? Don't be. You see, I have a skylight above my bed, and I can't believe I haven't noticed it before, but when its dark, and the lights are on, it's like a ceiling mirror. Pervy, huh? Now I know what I look like in bed. You look so much nicer lying down, it's weird. Like, your boobs look all perky, your cellulite disappears somewhere and even your thighs look slim. Try it, it's really weird. Warning though, when you stand up it goes back to being normal. Arse begins to look like Australia again, etc.

So this is what it's come down to- my nights are now spent exploring the many uses of my reflective window. If someone had ever bothered to call me, said window may have been put to good use.

I cannot motivate myself to revise, I have no sense of urgency. Like today, I had stuff to do, and it took me all day. I had to go to the doctors, go to uni and see my spanish teacher and the philosophy dept, and then get food to make apple and cinnamon loaf. Not much? It took me hours.

Part of it is the NHS's fault. The doctor, after feeling my liver and almost giving me a hernia sent me to hospital for blood tests. That took about five days. Then I faffed around uni for ages. My spanish teacher insisted we speak only in spanish, and god, it was painful. Then I had to traipse all around town to find bloody baking powder. Does no one bake in this country anymore?

So now, I'm just sat here with so much time again. My Mum said today that I really should consider speed dating, because 'Well everyone else has a boyfriend don't they?'.

There is a lot wrong with the world today.

I hate this post. Bleurgh. Talk to me about something fun.

A little of what I believe in.

2005-05-07T17:30:00.000Z

Yesterday, Annalisa asked me about the 'Make Poverty History' band I have on top of my blog. I said I would explain things fully today. I don't expect anyone to agree with me, I just think it's about time I said something about it. So here it is.

I've always been acutely aware of world politics, trade, and business, I learnt a lot about it in school. It is partly because my family live in South America that I won't drink coke or eat nestle products. Coca cola, pepsi cola, and nestle all exploit their workers across the world, including South America. Don't try and tell me any different, because I've seen it myself when I've been there. I then learnt about other products, such as chocolate, coffee, tea, fruit, and honey, which also come from abroad and are not fairly traded. So, for some years now, I've made a concious decision to consume fairly traded food. The fair trade foundation puts their mark on all fair trade food, and tells you what they do in that country.

For example, my bananas come from the Windward Islands. The farmers recieve a premium that has paid for a bridge to give farmers better access to their fields, and has paid for better education facilities. People always tell me they can't afford to buy fair trade, whichis total bollocks. Normal bananas cost around £1.10, fair trade bananas are £1.12. It only costs a few pence more, in most cases, to buy fair trade, and don't tell me you can't afford that.

Organic food and fair trade food are inextricably linked. Organic food is better for the environment, and supports smaller farms and manufacturers. There are a million reasons why it's better to eat organic, but I do it because it is better for me, better for the environment, and it supports my community. I shop at Org, and get organic milk, eggs, yogurt, tofu, veggies, and random things like tahini, quinoa, and weird cheese. At my supermarket, Sainsbury's, I get fair trade coffee, tea, honey, fruit and juice. I make my own bread, soup, and sauces. It's no extra effort at all.

This is just who I am. I have never imposed this upon anyone, and don't tend to preach about it. If people ask, I'll tell them. I get challenged sometimes about it, but I believe in it very strongly, and will defend it. From it, I've become involved in things like Make Poverty History, Make Trade Fair, lots of things. I just believe there are things that are within our power to be changed in this world. I don't think it's fair that there is a massive difference between the amount we pay for internationally traded goods, and the amount paid to the people who grow them.

It also affects where I buy my clothes from, I get a lot of it from the Traidcraft online store, and I know it hasn't been made in a sweatshop. I bank with the Co-op, who don't invest in any government or business which fails to uphold basic human rights, or any business whose links to an oppressive regime are a continuing cause for concern. No, I'm not a hippy, or a vegertarian, or an eco warrior, or any of the stereotypes attached to what I believe in.

I did Governament and Politics A level at school, and since then I've always followed current affairs. I voted Green party in the European election, because our energy sources, like oil and coal, will run out in my lifetime. The rainforest, our source of oxygen, is quickly decreasing. The British govt is starting to take notice, there is an national reclyling system now, and they are looking into renewable energy sources.

I simply believe that there are ways to change the way things work. People in LEDCs had entire civilisations when we were still living in huts. Europe, in it's quest to conquer the world did a lot of wrong. Now because of our actions, third world countries are struggling to make livelihoods and yet we still exploit them. We use them for cheap labour. Millions of poor farmers can't sell what they grow because rich countries are forcing poor countries to accept imports of cheap, often heavily subsidised, food. It saddens mewhen I go to Venezuela and see my family struggle to make a living from the pittance they receive from Western oil companies. They sell fruit to buyers, which then gets sold over here for 10 times more.

This is why I bank ethically, I consume fairly traded goods, and I support local organic farms. I think trade should be fair, and if I can do something to make it fair then I will.

It's all good.

2005-05-06T17:00:00.000Z

Oh, today is such a happy day. Even though my country is going to be run by Tony the tosser for the next 5 years, and I will be paying back a small fortune in student loans for the rest of my life, I am happy today. First, I got my last essay in today! Second, I have a proper writing job! Third, I have a summer job!

Shall I elaborate? Well, a while ago I applied to write for website that I frequently go on to look at city reviews. It gives a slightly bitchy review of UK cities, their bars, restaurants, places to pull, etc. Well, they were looking for writers, and I thought, why the hell not? And applied. And basically, I'm reviewing five restaurants for next thursday. I have to talk about food, clientele, atmosphere, drinks prices and shit. And it's aimed at graduates and students so it's really funny and witty. I got the email telling me it's going into a book as well, so I'm so happy. It's such good experience for me.

And the other job is working in Lush. Well, potentially working. I have an interview on the 16th, well, group interview, and I should get the job- Rach works there and her manager is apparantly very interested. It means I get to work in the city, and I can pay my car insurance, my rent, it's all good.

Speaking of car insurance, I got a really good deal on mine- it's £500 now, and thats more than halved since last year.

It's impossible not to be happy today.

Isn't it weird that there's normally only one good thing going on your life? Does anyone else get this? Like right now, my love life (I HATE that phrase) has gone to shit, but everything else is just peachy. My diet, which isn't really a diet anymore, I've lost my appetite for starchy food now, is going great. My jeans are looser, and I feel more confident about how I look. And, as I mentioned, I'm getting a job, I'm getting proper writing experience, and Uni is finished.

Given the choice, I'm not sure I would choose a relationship over other aspects of my life. I'm so happy today- and it's all my own doing.

Don't need no man to turn me on...

Election day!

2005-05-05T18:00:00.000Z

So, I got a little drunk last night, went to a police station, got asked out, went to a curry house, got ignored, came home, and got in a state over a guy that I don't even call my boyfriend. But you know what? Fuck him. Yes. Fuck him. If he can't be bothered to call for the best part of a week when he said he would, then I'm not going to waste any more brain space on him.

Yeah, so I was willing to pursue this, hell, I was even willing to have a relationship with him. And I know not calling someone is not the worst crime in the world. But this is me. I don't like being messed around. I could just text him, but I'm not going to chase something that's not hapenning.

I get accused of cutting guys out of life, and this is why. I could have dated prison guy. I could have dated all the other guys I've deemed unsuitable. But I'm holding out for someone that's going to call, that's going to give it to me straight. I have too many years ahead of me to settle for anything less than perfect. And if I end up single, then it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

There are more important things to worry about anyway, like the election today. I did my second ever election today! I had a choice between voting Leeds Central or voting at home, at Sherwood. But this constutuency is my home now, so I figured it's better to vote here. It was so much simpler voting in the European election, you just vote which party you want to get a seat. But this time, you have to consider all sorts. Either way, I voted Liberal Democrats. If Labour get back in govt I will cry. And if Conservative's get it, then I'm moving to France.

In my area- the Brit ghetto- there's actually a seat for BNP. For those of you not in the know, the BNP- British National Party- are all for British independance from the European Union, and they want to extradite a lot of foreigners. Their leader recently got done for racially aggravated assault, or something similar, and I swear if they get a seat here I will move back to Nottingham.

Right, enough political rant. I finished classes today! No more until October. I have three exams, then I can drink and party. I can forget about a certain hot kisser who doesn't want me. Not for conversation. Not for sex. Nada! But like I said, fuck him!

Yes, I'm drunk. Again.

2005-05-04T23:44:00.000Z

oh today was so weird. After all the business with choosing options. Then I had to go into the police station- don't ask. And at the police station there was a crazy guy talking to me. He was so racist, and just horrid and I wanted to hit him, it was that bad. Then another guy came in and we were chatting. And I just thought, you know, just chatting to a guy. Then he shook my hand and it was all sweaty. Then he fucking asked me out. I was all 'huh?!' and avoided it. Cuz I like James. And I don't think I could like him as much as I like James.

Ah, so then we went for a curry. It was really nice, I had chicken korma and LOTS of wine. Then pub. In pub was a guy who went to school with Rachel. You know Rach, I do mention her a lot. So then, I thought this guy was really nice, as opposed to prison guy, but then he was all weird. So now I'm at home, and James hasnt rung me and he said he would. I mean, if hes going to manchester, shouldnt he want to see me now? while I'm still here?

I know, I'm drunk and if I was sober I wouldnt even think this. But I dont know. I've had vodka. I feel like if I let myself like him I will end up hurt. I am never, never going to find anyone if I keep this attitude. Prison guy was absolutley fine, quite good looking, hell, and quite rich. I would text him now if we'd swapped number. Like an idiot I walked away. Fear. Why?

So now I'm sat here, so sad, listening to Jill Scott songs. I'm scared I'm going to forget how to like someone, let alone learn to love. I always do this, one tiny thing will happen, like one night a guy won't call me and I get so defensive. This is why I stuck to guys that I had no future with. I am so scared right now. It's weird. I've been thinking about him all night. I feel like ending it all now though. I'm not sure. I'm just not sure.

Gah!! part deux

2005-05-04T10:05:00.000Z

Leeds University Informations Systems and Support you can go to hell!!!!

I have had more luck pulling gay men than contacting an actual person at your offices.

Thanks to the university's use of 'online module enrollment' I am sure that if I ever get on to the system, all that will be left is some crappy course like Civil War Literature, in which I will have to rehash the eyesore that is Paradise Lost, taught by some hairy, tweed wearing professor with bad teeth. Thanks!

No, because of you, I will not get onto the Language in Time and Space module, which I am over qualified for anyway, and which will give me great groundings in my journalistic career. No.

NO!!! When I try and get a job after graduation, what use will Paradise Lost be? Yes, absolutely fuck all use.

And will I get onto the course for American Literature? Hell no!! I'll be something useless and shit, like Shakespeare in Film or, god forbid, William Blake, in which case I'll just slit my wrists now.

So thanks, ISS, for ruining my day, my university career, and eventually my life. You have not responded to my emails. Apparently I do not exist in the English department. And apparantly, I do not deserve to enjoy any of my modules next year.

Sleep with your eyes open, person-at-ISS.

Later.....

After a phone call to the school of english secretary, I actually got onto the courses I wanted to do. In semester 1, I'm doing English in Time, Medieval Renascence, and Writing America. And semester 2 is English in Space, 18th Century Literature, and Contested American Spaces.

What should have been a quick thing on the internet took me 3 hours. But I'm so, so, happy that I got onto the American Lit courses, cuz that's what I want to specialize in next year. I get to do some amazing books next year, like Little Women, and Gulliver's Travels, which were both massive childhood favourites.

However, James is moving to Manchester to do his training. So he'll be there all summer. I don't know what to make of it, cuz it's not like I'm his girlfriend. But how come, when anything nice happens, it all just falls apart? I'm really happy that I'll be on a really good course next year, but this summer I'll be in Nottingham and he's miles away in Manchester.

Why, when something works out, does something else just shit all over it?

Gah!!!

2005-05-03T11:15:00.000Z

Hi! I know, I have been gone for some time. I am just completely bombarded with work right now, and I went home this weekend, and it's too sunny to sit on the computer. So, in a rare moment of not being a twat, my computer decided to work with me on audioblogs! So I heard everyone that has one. Then I thought to myself, wouldn't it be cool if I had one! I have an accent that people seem to go for, and I want to prove that I'm not a posh southerner, as I suspect some of you think I am. So I took myself off the website, and the pissing thing only works in America! Why?!

So if blogger would have realised that people outside of America also have blogs, you would have had a fun audioblog today. And yeah, it would have brightened up your day proper wouldn't it? But no. Sorry. Bloggers a twat.

Hot kisser James moved to Leeds yesterday, and phoned me, all forlorn, asking to go for a drink in town. I'd just been into town shopping, and I spent, like £100 on clothes and make up. So I looked all nice, new top, new flip flops, hair looking good, and really nice make up. I started to walk into town, and BAM!!!! Moment Of Horror #1 hits me. There's a thing in my top. It's scratching me. I start to scream. I suspect it is a bee. I'm terrified of bees. So I start to hit myself and generally look as though I'm having some sort of fit. Then it falls out. My necklace. Not a bee. A necklace. I was freaking out because my necklace tried to attack me.

Well, never mind, and I carry on my jolly way into town and, oh look, Moment Of Horror #2. Rain. It pisses it down with rain. My new white top is soaked, and slightly orange cuz my make up has run into it. It's also wet, clingy, and transparent. My hair is dripping. But that's no problem, I figure I'll dry my hair in the loos, and I have make up in my bag. But no.

Moment Of Horror #3. Wind. Hello Wind. Blowing inmy face and making my hair look like it's trying to escape from my head. Gah!!!!!

I turned up to the pub looking like a porn star. Windblown hair, that in retrospect, was kinda sexy once it settled down, but not for the pub. Wet clothes, slightly smudgy make up, and I was all nervous about bees. Sometimes I think James is very brave wanting to actually be seen in public with me, because I am such a disaster. It was sooo nice seeing him though.

I walked home all happy. Then Moment Of Horror #4 happens, because it's just too much to ask for any minute of my life to pass in peace. A drunk man on my road flashes me. Yes, I saw his man stick.

And on that note, I better get back to revision.

Stop bringing strange men into my kitchen and into my life!!!!

2005-04-28T01:09:00.000Z

As I type this, there are 3 Asian guys in my kitchen that I have never seen before in my life. Upon questioning, they inform me they belong to Zia, my flatmate. They met her on Monday at a Bhangra gig. She has decided to let them stay in her room even though she has no idea who they are.

Surely this is not normal behaviour. 3 strange guys in your room?!

Random thought: why do Americans call Oriental people Asians? Here, an Asian is from India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, that part of the world. Weird.

Why must my flat/life always be inundated with strange men? I was all 'the FUCK Zia!!! stop bringing men from the street into my kitchen and into my life!!!'.

I can hear weird noises coming from her room. People in France can probably hear these noises.

She's having a gangbang.

If I was a rich girl...

2005-04-27T01:30:00.000Z

If I could be an actor, I would have been, guess who? Audrey Hepburn, no suprises there. I think Audrey was the greatest thing ever. Even though she had to live on plant bulbs growing up, she was so elegant, so classy, and totally stylish. She had the best movie role ever- Holly Golightly- the one girl in film I can identify with. Who else would I have learnt how to screw over men from? I totally have days where I'll put on a pair of heels, maybe a skirt if I feel fancy, and I'll go into town with my friends for cocktails, and I'm totaly feeling like Audrey Hepburn.

If I could be a scientist I'd invent a product that keeps your hair's shape in all weather. If it rained, your hair would dry in the style you had it in originally. If it was windy, it would settle down with no fly away wisps. I'd also invent a product that really, really does tackle cellulite. I know that it's totally superficial, but I really would try and make women's lives much easier. There would be waterproof mascara that actually is waterproof. Pain free waxing. Some kind of super-moisturiser. God, it would be great.

If I could be a farmer, I would create a massive organic farm and make everyone be as healthy as me. Then I would donate a load of money to the fair trade foundation and set up a load of farms in South America that actually support the farmers.

If I could be an innkeeper- cuz apparantly we are in the Christmas story?!- I would totally pimp out my stable... Okay, not really. Can I say landlady, not innkeeper? Okay. I would get a massive hotel/spa/bar/place of cool somewhere in the British countryside and spend the rest of my life being pampered.

If I could be a rich girl, a la Paris Hilton, I would not create stupid tv programs, carry around a rat, oh sorry, I mean dog, and I would not claim to be famous by my finely tuned skill of pulling sulky faces at movie premieres. No. I would use my family's ill-gotten gains to build schools in third world countries, conserving the rainforest, and doing what I can for various charities. And by that, I dont mean faffing about at lunches and meetings, I mean really helping out. Then when I've saved the world I would totally spend all the money my father ever made, on shoes.

Right, I'm passing this on to Katya, Jess, and Samantha. You all know how it works, pick 5 things, write about it, and pass it on to 3 peeps. List is below.

If I could be a scientist...

If I could be a farmer...

If I could be a musician...

If I could be a doctor...

If I could be a painter...

If I could be a gardener...

If I could be a missionary...

If I could be a chef...

If I could be an architect...

If I could be a linguist...

If I could be a psychologist...

If I could be a librarian...

If I could be an athlete...

If I could be a lawyer...

If I could be an innkeeper...

If I could be a professor...

If I could be a writer...

If I could be a llama-rider...(by Ogre)

If I could be a bonnie pirate...(By Teach)

If I could be a servicemember...(By Jeremy)

If I could be a business owner...(By Blue944)

If I could be an actor... (By Blue944)

If I could be a rich girl... (By V)

There was a time I thought I was some Spanish person's child that got left in England by mistake.

2005-04-27T00:00:00.000Z

My diet that I started to lose all my holiday weight is going really well. I've been eating so much better, and I feel healthier. That was the thing, when I eat crap I feel crap. My skin was all icky, I was bloated, and I was dehydrated. So now, although the weight loss is gradual, I'm feeling really good. My skin is so clear and I feel really perky from all the good food I've been having.

I remember having serious body issues as a kid- who didn't? I was never fat growing up, but it took me a long, long, time to realise that I would never be a skinny person. See, it just is not in my genes to be skinny. I'm part latin, home of big butts, and I didn't accept this until I was about 16. Where I grew up, everyone was white, and my friends were all very slim. I remember starting school when I was 11 and being the only girl wearing a bra.

Looking at photos, my body was just fine, but I went to school in the 90s- it wasn't a good thing to be curvy. I would hate that my Mum was foreign. People would see her and go 'oh that's your mother ?!!' and I would curse her for giving me curly hair and all these other characteristics. I would highlight my hair so it looked lighter, and always wore it straight. I avoided tight jeans or anything that clung to my bum.

None of my Mum's family are skinny, and over there men hate skinny women. I went over there when I was 16 and realised that I just take after my mother more than my Dad. As you will have seen from the photo, my face is quite European (I think). Compare me to an English person and it's obvious that I'm not totally white, but I don't look like my Mum at all. I don't look like my Dad either though. I used to think I was some Spanish person's child that got left in England by mistake.

So after that holiday, I stopped obsessing about my weight and how I looked, and became more accepting of who I was. Now, I wear my hair curly, I have it dark, and I don't hate my body.

I think things are always weird if you belong to more than one culture. I have a lot of friends who are half something, mainly latin countries, and for all of us, it took a while to realise it's something you should be proud of. I love going to countries in the Med, as I look like everyone else and it's fun pretending I'm Spanish, or Greek, or Italian.

I once saw a photo of my grandmother, who died when I was really little. She looked exactly like me in this photo. I always wondered why my Tias would stroke my hair and say 'Ah se parece a Mama'. I then got told my grandmother was the love child of a Dutch pirate and a native Venezuelan. Half white European, and half native, just like me.

Looking at my Mum you wouldn't know she was part Dutch, as my grandfather was very dark. But her brothers and sisters and my cousins are all completely different colours, it's quite cool. I have some family that are black, and some that are almost blonde, but I'm the only one that looks like my grandmother. It would have been cool if my Dad was a pirate though.

Live your life like it's golden.

2005-04-25T03:09:00.000Z

Jen came round today with her digital camera (rich parents) and this thing hapenned.

The song, 'Golden', by Jill Scott came on my computer, and it's one of my fave songs. I love what it stands for, it's what I listen to when I feel down. So Jen starts singing along and telling me how much this song means to her. Now, this song is about freedom, and she is the least free person I know, and I told her this. She then said she loves that she is independant and 'Living her life like it's golden'. I almost fell over.

This is a girl who, on Thursday night, started to cry cuz she left her phone at home and couldn't text her boyf. Now, I told her it's one frigging night, what's the problem? Well, she used a quarter of my free texts (25) that night in case he was worried. Now I mean no offence, but bloody hell. That kind of relationship would kill me. Over the course of 4 hours, 50 texts were sent between them. God forbid he sneeze without her knowledge.

It's things like this that put me off relationships. I knew I had lost Jen when she went home with Ash one weekend. He lives in Derby, which is next to Nottingham. She went with him, in his car, then sat in a bar alone while he spent the day with his parents. This is not normal, surely? And the thing is, Derby is 20 mins from my house, and I told her to go to my house-she knows my Mum- but no, she wanted to be alone, in a strange city. I cannot understand this. I wanted to shake her and say 'Good God woman!!! You can be without him for ONE DAY!!!'

She thinks I'm terrible cuz I only texted James only once last week. She thinks I'm evil for going to Newcastle when I was supposed to see him. I'm not apologising. I'm spontaneous, and not clingy- that's just me. It's true that I've never been in love, but if love is being so immersed in someone that you cannot lead your own life then I don't want that. I will never drop everything for a guy. I will never be that girl.

Some people may think I'm a heartless bitch, maybe I am. I just won't settle for anything less than amazing. Amazing, I think, is when someone accepts you for who you are. I don't think what Jen and Ash have is amazing. They are so suspicious of each other. She will turn up on his nights out, she gets upset if there's a girl out with his friends, he doesn't let her wear revealing clothes. She does his washing, his cooking, his cleaning. He answers her phone. They are 19.

If that's what they want, fine, but I know that when I first met Jenna she said she would never be that girl. I don't believe love should change who you fundamentally are. I say fundamentally, because change is natural, but Jen is another person now. It feels awful saying this, but if they split up, I couldn't be there for her. She never visited me when I had glandular fever, she was always 'busy with Ash'.

It's not that I'm afraid to get hurt. I am always cautious, but of course I've been hurt. Who hasn't? I am a strong person who will walk away from someone who is bad for me, but I'm always vulnerable to being hurt. I make no secret of the fact that as a result of my Dad's infidelity I find it hard to trust men. I would never let a man do to me what he did to my Mum. Luckily, my Mum is able to support herself, but what my Dad did to us was horrible. It has made me a stronger person, and so very wary of men. Unlike a lot of girls, my Dad is not a perfect man who will do anything for his family. He does not support me despite my Mum spending half her salary on putting me through Uni. He never calls, and he allows his girlfriend to humiliate me.

I know that all men aren't like my Dad, but he left when I was 14- a very impressionable age. I saw my Mum cry because she saw him with another woman. I have blocked a lot of this out, I didn't really deal with it at the time, but anyway, I need to write this down. I remember asking my Dad who he loved more, us, or his new girlfriend, and he couldn't choose, I was devastated. I remember cooking for me and my brother at 15. I did the washing. I listened to my parents problems. I listened to my Dad tell me he couldn't deal with my Mum working all the time. He thought she didn't love him.

My life divides into three. Pre-divorce, post-divorce, and University. Sometimes I hate that my whole outlook on life, everything I do, my choices are all based on this one detail in my life. I can connect deeply with anyone who has been throught the same thing. But for a lot of my friends, their parents are just parents, that's all they'll ever be. My parents became people when they split up. I saw them start new relationships. I witnessed arguments over money, over the house, over him not seeing us. And it was me who cleared up the mess.
I hate that my brother has no direction in life. He blames my Mum for driving my Dad away. He disrespects his girlfriends. He believes women can be thrown away. It kills my mother. I hate that I will always see men as a potential for pain, horrible emotional pain.

I rarely speak about this to anyone. Every now and then I have a little breakdown, and people know what it's about, but never know what to say. Now I've been through some of this with James, and he was very understanding. I told him that everyone fell apart, and I couldn't fall apart cuz someone had to be the strong one. I told him I have issues with being open, issues with being close. If he can understand this, me and him, it could go anywhere. It was a big deal for me, telling it him.

I have trouble dealing with stuff. I cry easily. I stay single because I like to depend on me. I don't attach to people. I do my own thing. There has been a lot of shit in my past that I block out, I choose to not deal with it. I know this is bad for me, but that's my coping mechanism. I'm afraid that if I ever become like Jen with a guy, I just wouldn't be able to deal if anything went wrong. There would be no one to be strong for me, and I don't think I would cope with it like I've coped in the past. If James would let me be me, let me have my freedom, then maybe, maybe, I could allow myself to fall in love with him. But I can't be the girl who does everythong he does, who makes her life fit with his. I can't let myself become so detached that I would have nothing but him. Is this depressing?

This is a very long post for me, but I feel lighter somehow. This is worse than posting my photo. This is the stuff that only people close to me know. This is my dark side, if you like. I just feel that at 19, I've seen too much, lived too much. I honestly believe that I grew up too fast with no choice. I don't like it when people think all relationships are perfect, untouchable, and nothing is wrong. In a way, I'd like that innocence, but I'm also glad I'm more of a realist. Jen believe that she'll be with Ash forever, she's conemplating quiting her degree because it involves a year abroad. This saddens me so much.

Imagine if my Mum had no back up plan? I probably wouldn't be here. If she hadn't worked we would've been so poor. It would have been so much worse. I can't help but think that by quitting her degree, Jen's losing her back up plan. Even if they stayed together, she's be losing her chance at education, which not everyone gets. I cannot admire her for doing all this for Ash, I don't see him making any sacrifices for her.

I don't think my Mum knows how much I went through and how much it has affected me. But this is me now, and if I've learnt anything, it's that I have to be my own person, financially, and emotionally. I have to stop writing now, or I'll cry.

I got pierced...

2005-04-22T18:00:00.000Z

Wow, so I turned on the computer this morning, went my blog, and theres my photo! Gosh.

I would highly recommend posting a piccie. It's like the first time you sleep with a guy, highly anticipated, slightly scary, and yet quite fulfilling and happy faces all round.

I was going to hand my essay in yesterday, and was walking up the road to Uni when this good looking man smiles at me, and I'm 'oh, helloooo', then I realise he's the warden for my building so I stop him in the street and complain about the malaysian. I told him how she is a skank whore and I'm going to make a formal complaint with him and kick that bitches ass! Hahahaha revenge!!

So then I was late to hand work in, so I bought some shoes instead.

I went to a bar last night, and found out I was sitting next to a girl who went to my school, weird.

Then we met these guys from Texas, and their accents cracked me up. We had a drinkikng competetion, where everytime they said 'y'all', and everytime we said 'like' we had a bit to drink. Everyone got hammered, and I was saying 'I'm DRUNK y'all!!!!' to anyone who cared.

I went to another bar and found a load of people from my halls. There were a group of people that I dont like. One of the girls is cousin of a girl from my hometown who bullied me when I was 5, and I know she doesnt like me cuz of that. Yes, she is a very bad person, gives me evils all the time. So I sat with some guys I know from partying in Freshers week, and we had a wicked time.

I got drunk. On the way home I went to the chippie, which is BAD, then when we got home Byron was in the bin. We said 'Byron, you know everyones tampons are in their' and he still didnt get out.

I woke up at 12 and went shopping for flip flops, but ended up getting pierced instead. Twice.

I'm driving halfway up the bloody country tonight to see my friend in Newcastle, so everyone have a good one!

Im drunk y'all!!!!!!!

2005-04-22T01:12:00.000Z

Yes I have been drinking cocktails, I am celebrating the downfall of the malaysian, the arrival of mini fridge, the lack of essay, the fact that I bought new shoes......

After some conversing with Amber Lynn, I decided to post my photo. I kinda dont care now.

(Photo has been removed)

Estoy yo! You are probably thinking:

1. Oooooh, she was cuter aged 4

2. So thats what happens when a Venezuelan and a Welsh man breed!

3. Yes, the 'I am a crazy child' smile is still there.

4. Wow she wears A LOT of make up.

5. She needs a nose job.

Whatever, this is me, do let me know what you think, is it what you expected?

Meh.

2005-04-21T00:00:00.000Z

I am shockingly lazy. In the past 12 hours I have done the following:

Spent 3 hours on MSN discussing the general election with Soph.
Spent 2 hours playing with my flatmates digital cam, trying to get a pic I may or may not post.
Purchased a mini fridge on ebay.
Read every blog I have bookmarked about 50 times. Even the ones I don't like.
Organised the entire contents of my room. Even my food and my laundry.

I have not started the essay I have to hand in at 5pm, which is 5 hours away, and I have a seminar at 1.

I have done this every time I have an essay due. And the funny thing is that I'm getting good grades for exams I don't revise for and essays I write in 2 hours. I just feel so meh. So lacking in motivation.

I have however, lost weight. I've been eating really well now that I am not in the land of bad food. I actually feel healthier. I need to lose a bit more, but I'm glad I've lost the chubby look I was acquiring. I might give my tutor some bollocks about my printer is broken and I'll have to email it to him. I don't even own a printer and I think he knows. Oh dear.

See I'm writing this now and I have a seminar in an hour, I'm still in my pjs. I must get my act together. James is coming up tomorrow and I don't want him to think I'm a total slob. I'm really nervous, cuz he hasn't seen my room, and I dunno. It's hard to explain, but he's going to meet my friends, and it's all a bit AHH.

I think he will be a little scared cuz I'm a total clean freak. A lot of people that see my room are like 'Ooooh you're so organised and clean'. But then James has this obsession with ironing everything. Hmmm.

I always get weird at this stage. I don't like serious. I haven't texted him all week. If I bollocks this up cuz I'm scared or whatever I may ban myself from men. Why can't I just be nice and act bothered that he'll be around this weekend?

I just feel, like I said, so meh about things at the mo. I haven't been out since I got here, haven't made any effort to do work or go to lectures. There's a great guy who likes me but I feel all meh about that too.

And this photo business has me thinking, shall I post it or not?

Okay I am so lacking inspiration. Someone, please, sort me out. Tell me what to do. I think I may be delerious from not sleeping.

This is me!

2005-04-20T18:37:00.000Z

So I decided to cave in, and post my photo. It took much debating. It's not something you just do, in my opinion.

I took ages deciding on which one to post, I do tend to look drunk, silly, or slightly odd in photos. I'm really not photogenic.

So I chose one from when I think I was happiest in life. So this is me...

In 1990.

Yes I know that's 15 years ago, but don't I look cute ~~holding~~ choking my odd-looking doll? This is before I had my teeth fixed and discovered hair straighteners.

Anyone who's seen photos of me recently will know I never really lost that 'I am a crazy child' smile.

Casa de crap!

2005-04-19T21:11:00.000Z

Wise words spoken from the mouth of my mother when she came over today. She saw my kitchen and exclaimed 'You live in Casa de Crap! The Malaysians are such a dirty people! I can't believe you live in Casa Filth because of her'.

My mother was right to insult that dirty skank whore, and I'll tell you why. Today my Mum brought lots of goodies for me, including strawberry smoothies. I left said smoothies in the back of my shelf in the fridge, behind a massive bag of spinach and some tomatoes. I went to take my Mum to her car, and when I returned, strawberry smoothie had fucked off. I was perplexed. So I searched everyone elses shelf. I found it in Malaysian flatmates shelf, right at the back. I can therefore conclude that I hate her. I haven't seen her yet. I'm waiting.

I want her to die knowing who took her.

And I'm buying a mini fridge.

So after much debating I've decided not to post my photo- yet, I guess. However, I will post something just as interesting- my flat.

This piccie is the wall next to my bed, I'm so in the photos, hopefully no one knows a way to see them. Oh, and I'm a massive Dali fan. The dreamcatcher is what my parents brought me back from Arizona some years ago.

This is my photowall, you can probably figure out what I look like from the photos, ah well. The copacabana stuff is a musical I did last term.

This is some of my CDs and DVDs.

These are my books, this is upside down, don't ask. Course books on the left, fun books on the right.

Yes another Dali poster. This is my chair. The stripy fabric is stuff I bought from a Peruvian girl in London, and the red throw and the cushion I got from Corn Exchange Market in Leeds. I love this chair.

And this is my desk. There is a lot of crap in this desk. The hospital light kinda ruins this photo, but this is where I sit when I'm on the computer.

Oh I can so feel that I will post my photo soon.

Do I blog like I'm fit or ming-tastic?

2005-04-19T00:58:00.000Z

Everyone seems to be meeting up in Blogland, and showing photos, and whatnot, and I'm getting curiouser and curiouser about you lot. Everyone seems to live in America, so there isn't much chance of me ever being in a position to meet someone (apart from Dan who lives about 5 minutes from me) but yeah, I'm intrigued.

There's a side of me that suspects everyone is a big geek, but then I'm not a big geek so... But really, the more I read about people, the more I'd like to know what their voices sound like, and what they look like. I also happen to love accents, and Americans often sound so borderline brash/polite, I love an American accent.

Another thing is that blogging isn't spontaneous, and you get a better sense of someone when you have spontaneous responses (can you tell I'm studying English Language for my degree?!).

So for purely superficial reasons, I have questions:

How do you imagine people (that means me...) to look and sound in blogland?

Who would you most like to meet?

Personally, I want to meet everyone. I'd especially like to meet the people linked, but I like meeting new people (you aren't technically new, but...).

Some people I have a clear idea in my head of what they look like. I have a pretty good image of That Girl, Luke, Samantha, Rafe, Myramaines, and Katya. I cannot place Jess, Blue2go, KelBel, or Boston Rambles. Everyone else I've either seen, or they're somewhere in between.

This gets bitchy....

2005-04-17T13:00:00.000Z

I need to rant. I need to rant because I am so pissed off today, I'm not sure I can cope.

First thing: My Dad's girlfriend.
I hate this woman. She stole my Dad from my Mum and my eyes this is all she will ever be. She is the opposite of me in every way. This is a woman who knows the function of spark plug, never wears make up except to put on green eyeshadow and orange lipstick, and is the only person since 1984 to still perm her hair. She is really, really skinny and I honestly believe she is a lesbian and doesn't know it.

So earlier I went to see my Dad, who was, well, Dad-like with me, then I get talking to his girlfriend, who PINCHES MY WAIST and asks why I'M SO FAT THESE DAYS. She then brings out her TAPE MEASURE and compares my FATNESS to her SKINNYNESS and disputes my claims that my bra size is a 32 D. 'You're never a 32!' she exclaims and even makes me take off my bra to prove this fact to her.

There were several other incidents that evening but this one stands out because it is so, so, so, cruel! What ever hapenned to girls sticking together? What kind of person is so mean (and mean is the word) that they feel like taking a young girl's vital statistics to make themselves feel better?

Personally, I'm a girl's girl. I'm the girl who'll lend you her lip gloss in the toilet. The one who'll talk to the ming-tastic wingman of the guy you fancy. I have never let a man come between me and my friends.

I believe there is enough bitchiness in this world. If I see a girl lookin really great, I don't give her evils, I go up, compliment her and will probably ask her where she bought her top from.

This incident with my Dad's girlfriend has confirmed two things for me:

1. There are women who put other down in order to feel better about themselves.

2. Some of them will even go as far as taking a man from his wife and children in order to do this.

Anyway, I'm back at University and have made a great start to term. I went to the pub last night, and was so hungover this morning I missed all my lectures and an exam. Anyone got any excuses I can use?

The only reason I woke up this morning is cuz some random guy came in to check my fire alarm. Don't I have to get so many days notice for someone to do this?! Anyway, he came in my room and I started screaming, and my fire alarm went unchecked.

I think to compensate for my shocking lack of motivation I should do all my essays today and not even think about going to the pub.

Ps. Dan and MartiniLove, I can never ever comment on your blogs, I haven't stopped reading, it's just that your comments hate me.

Pps. Dan DO NOT risk the NHS!!!! They will bollocks up the op and you know it! I suggest going private. And as for the money, well can't you just sell a kidney or something?

One day into my diet and I ate 12 jaffa cakes!

2005-04-16T01:22:00.000Z

In theory, losing weight is not rocket science. Two simple rules:

1. Eat less.

2. Exercise more.

So why can't I stick to this?

The diet was going fantasically well until my Mum made flambe bananas and I demolished a pack of jaffa cakes. These are not diet foods!

Did you know one jaffa cake has around 50 calories? That means I consumed 600 calories alone in jaffa cakes today. What is the point?

I am so very weak. What is wrong with me?

I blame my Mum for everything. I blame her stupid good cooking. Most of all I blame her stupid body that I inherited. Could I have inherited my Dad's slim, you might even say athletic, physique? No.

No. I have an arse you can park a bike in, breasts that can masquerade as a nifty shelf for snacks at parties and a stomach which bloats at the very thought of pasta or bread.

I'm not happy!

And instead of supporting me, my family insist on cooking only the most calorific foods. Shepards pie anyone? How about steak and chips? Flambe bloody bananas?

I may as well skip the middle man and just stick the food onto my body .

Entering fat bitch territory!

2005-04-15T15:44:00.000Z

Okay there seems to be an abundance of diet posts right now and I am shamelessly jumping on the bandwagon. The diet posting has brought to my attention one simple fact: I am entering Fat Bitch territory.

Last summer I was a size 8, I believe this to be a US size 4. I was working as a lifeguard and was all tanned and used to swan about it bloody shorts looking all slim. Over my short university career I have pretty much maintained that weight, but have become incredibly unfit. Then I got ill and became shockingly unfit. Then I've been at home and despite losing weight for holiday and sporadically going to the gym, I've gone up to a size 10. Now today I tried to put on my Gap jeans, which are US size 6, UK size 10 and there is some uncomfortable pulling and tightness in the stomach and hip area.

I'm not saying I'm a fat bitch right now, but I am getting that way if I carry on gaining weight like this.

Another incident hapenned this morning. I caught sight of my arse in the bathroom mirror and things are not looking pretty. Despite the tan, my ass looks HUGE.

Now I have spent this week in the company of James, who is the fittest (in the health sense) person I know and has a fit body. Now most times I've slept with him we've been drunk so the only thing on my mind has been getting my end away, not the size of my ass. Now I won't be seeing him for 2 weeks as I'm going back to Leeds and he has to work and I would really like to be slimmer when I next see him.

So today I have started a diet. I'm taking the protein based breakfast, carbs based lunch and veggie based dinner approach, which has worked for all my friends and my Mum. So far today I have eaten scrambled eggs and smoked salmon for breakfast, a small bowl of rice for lunch, and I will have veggie soup for dinner. This is my first diet. I'm not going to drink, which won't be hard as I have exams and stuff at the mo.

Right now I weigh more than I have ever done in my entire life. I've been to the gym lots in the past week, doing lots of cardio to shift the ass. I don't want to have to be drunk every time I sleep with James, and now I have a man of sorts in my life, I really should sort myself out.

I hope to be a comfortable size 10 when I next see him, but with a healthy body.

I feel like writing this down gives me extra incentive and will hopefully push me to lose these extra pounds. Every time I think of my arse in the mirror I want to cringe....

Help!

2005-04-14T13:00:00.000Z

I mentioned in my 100 things that I have never been in love before, not properly. I often look back at relationships I was in, and realise I was deeply unhappy. So since my last serious relationship ended (July) I'm really wary about who I let into my life. I would really like to be able to see an ex and not pull weird faces and feel ever so slightly nauseous. So now I've met someone who is getting into boyfriend territory.

I've been holed up at James's pretty much since I got back off holiday. See, my best friend is going out with his older brother so the four of us have been sat around their house, and it's been so nice. I almost don't want to go back to uni. Which brings me to the other thing.

James is starting a job in Wakefield, which is about 20 mins from where I live in Leeds. Yesterday he got his start date fo his new job. It's 3rd May, which is less than 3 weeks and I will still be in uni. So he doesn't know anyone in that area apart from me...

This is a really bitty post, but I just feel a bit weird. Like, I have found nothing wrong with him. I am such a cynic, I always like to find something wrong with a guy, but James is just, well not perfect, but he's great. He doesn't turn into a total arse around his friends, he compliments me, he's great in bed, he's really easy to talk to. And he's going to be living so close to me in 3 weeks!

All the time I have spent with him has been really nice. He makes me smile, and I'm really beginning to like him. He thinks I look great first thing in the morning, he loves my cooking.

I just don't know what to do about it all. I really don't want to give up my single life, but so far he hasn't tried to tie me down. So do I let him enter boyfriend territory or not?

I just re-read this post and it makes no sense. But really, I just cannot deal with being fucked about, and I don't think he would do that. However, I burn easily. I know that I have to have him in my life and I'm tempted to just let things happen, but I don't like being in limbo. I admit it- I like labels.

I'm too scared to ask him what he wants, I'm scared he'll just want something casual, which is fine, but I don't want to open up to him like that. So anyway, I need guidance! What course of action do I take?

So this is what hapenned in prison...

2005-04-11T22:20:00.000Z

Okay, so my last proper post caused some controversy, to say the least, but there were some very interesting comments, and I love to be challanged. It got people talking, and that's always better than not talking.

So, I went to Gran Canaria and it wasn't worth the weight loss as I drunk my body weight several times over in cocktails, beer and sangria and frankly I was too pissed to even notice my too-small bikini.

Not much hapenned really. For five days I got pissed, woke up, sunbathed, drank, slept, ate, drank, got pissed..... you know.

There were men in tiny trunks called Raul who kept pulling at my bikini and saying 'quitate lo!'.

There was a bad ass waiter called Sergio who wouldn't let me into his restaurant one night because he thought I was a tramp.

There was a night that I felt it necessary to sing a medlay of Jennifer Lopez songs at a karioke bar. During the rap break in 'Jenny From The Block' I got up on a table and screamed 'Latin pride people! Latin pride! Donde estan los latinos?'. I was joined by a Brazilian woman who may or may not have been born a man and he/she aided me in the singing of 'La Bamba'.

These things really hapenned, I will get the photos up when I get them developed. I did, however, destroy any evidence of the J.Lo/La Bamba episode. Meanwhile you can DIE from jealousy at the photo of my brown legs below (Rach took it on her phone and emailed it to me!) I would show the whole photo, but I don't want barely-clad photos of myself on the internet. It's bad enough that there are entire regions of Gran Canaria I can never return to.

What else? James! That's what else. I did not get with anyone on hols! This is a big achievement for me. For someone renowned for their wit and charm (no, really) and not their sense of fidelity and commitment I was very well behaved considering he's not even my boyfriend or anything. Go me....

Legs!

2005-04-11T21:30:00.000Z

I went on holiday!

2005-04-11T13:11:00.000Z

Hi! I'm super sorry I just pissed off without notice, I've been on holiday and it was terribly irresponsible of me to not tell you. I went to Gran Canaria and spent a few days swimming, sunbathing, and other nice things that you can't do in England. As if I would leave my blog!

Right, well I'm a little tired so I'm going for a little sleep then I'll come back and write something, I just wanted you to know I'm not dead, or in prison or anything.

I'm sorry Americans...

2005-04-05T15:15:00.000Z

I was in London this weekend and got back yesterday. I LOVE London so much, I love the tube, the people, the shops, everything. What I love most is that as you walk about, everyone is foreign, tourists, students, illegal immigrants, everywhere.

It was an amazing trip apart from one Idiot American who just ruined everything. I was at Trafalger Square, admiring my British heritage when I hear this voice,

'Oh mah Gaaad y'all! Dontcha just lurve Europe? I lurve this statue thang, what was it, far some war or somethin y'all?'

It was an Idiot American and his Idiot friends. They were all blonde and American looking, wearing backpacks and using 'Y'all' like there was no tomorrow. He looked at me and my friends and said,

'Hey y'all! Can y'all take a photo?'

He and his friends did the most hideous pose opposite my Amazing British Heritage and talked to us and I swear down it was the funniest thing I've heard in my life.

He was all 'Damn!!! Y'all Europeans arrr so Gaddam quiet!'

I gave him a lecture. It went something like this.

'Do you realise that Europe is not, in fact, one big country, but many smaller countries? Do you realise that the whole world is not like America? European countries popluated your stupid America and without us you would probably be a POOR POLISH FARMER!!. Do you realise that? We have had entire cultures for centuries, while you just come along and SHIT on it, when all the culture you have is Britney Spears and MacDonalds. Please do not refer to Europe as an Entire Country, because, as you will find, we are many countries with infinately different languages, cultures, and histories. Britain is not a state of Europe. IT IS IT'S OWN COUNTRY AND HAS BEEN SO FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS!!!!!

'Yes we are not as big as America, nor as powerful, but there was a time when your country was so insignificant that NO-ONE even knew about it, okay? So don't come here with your 'y'alls' and your All- American Enthusiasm thinking you're in Europe. Would you like it if I referred to Latin America, Central America, the Carribean, America and Canada as 'That Country Over The Pond'? NO, you would NOT!!! So please, for the LOVE OF GOD, understand this. You are in BRITAIN, a country in north- west EUROPE. Is that clear?!?!???'

I think I went too far.

How I stopped my involuntary celibacy.

2005-04-02T23:50:00.000Z

It feels like I haven't posted in a while. There was all that gym palava (I haven't been back yet) and I have been tres occupied with hot kisser James. I did the dirty with him (Friday night) and all is quite lovely. Anyhow, the whole story provides me with an excellent chance to explain the British Way Of Dating.

I woke up with a start on Friday morning. I was completely naked, in James's room and I had no recollection of how I got there, how I got into bed and who took my clothes off. The first thing I said wasn't 'Oh James, you are so fit and wonderful', nor was it 'Wow.... Last night was amazing'. No. I said 'Where the fuck are my clothes? When did I go to bed? Did you fuck me? I'm naked, holy shit! Why don't I remember?'

Ah, such is the young British girl's way of getting her man. None of this 'dating' crap. No, across the pond you simply wake up next to someone a few times and eventually you might become their girlfriend, if you're into that sort of thing.

So how did I end up naked in his bed?

It was his brother's birthday on Friday and we all went out to this dead good restaurant in Notts where you pay £15 and get a bottle of wine, a starter and main course. I challanged James to a drinking contest (I won) and we went on. We drifted off from everyone else and ended up in Sausage, a posh cocktail bar, and he bought me a mojito (see why I like him?). From there we went to Templars, a complete dive, but always full of people that went to my school and does cheap jugs. So in there I was completely inappropriate and went round hugging everyone as I was wasted and hadn't seen them in time.

I should point out that at the time we were carrying a pinata. It was a bull. Burt the Birthday Bull to be precise, and it was quite large, like a small child. I have photos on my phone, and I know there's a way of getting them on here, but I'm not sure.

So aftr this we went home. Apparantly I was talking to some girl called Kate on the bus. Now I don't know anyone called Kate, so that must have been an interesting conversation. Apparantly after the bus we walked home. This too, is a distant memory.

I do remember getting to his house, everyone else was outside, I remember vodka. I've been told we all got stoned and that I rolled, but my fingers stopped working and they thought I'd passed out. Again, distant memory. Then, I went upstairs, and I remember my legs feeling sooo heavy. Then I can't remember anything.

According to James, we took each others clothes off and then went to sleep, missing the pinata being destroyed and other drunken antics. I didn't sleep with him.

So, in the morning we chatted for about an hour, then I realised that I hadn't taken my make-up off or brushed my teeth and went off to sort myself out (I almost cried at how horrendous I looked). Then I requested tea and toast and he brought it. He is such a keeper isn't he? Over he course of 4 hours he brought 3 more cups of tea. What a star!

So I ended up having morning sex with him. And it was good.

Okay, my wrist is starting to hurt so I'll just tell you he bought me a sausage sandwich later on in the day (I may be falling in love) and he likes my bum, and my boobs, and my legs. And he wants me to spend next week having 'fun' with him. All this and he isn't trying to be my boyfriend!

Is my body too bootylicious?

2005-03-31T13:45:00.000Z

I feel I should offer some kind of explanation for my previous post. The singing and that.

I was at the gym last night. I like the gym I go to now. They have a mainly male team of fitness instructors/personal trainers/whatever fit men and I fancy them all. The gym has a glass wall which looks onto the swimming pool, which is normally full of uninteresting people, but as I walked into the gym yesterday there was an aquafit session going on. Led by a male instructor. In shorts and he was all wet and yummy. Like a fool I stopped and stared. Another fit man instructor walked past and smiled and said hello. I didn't hear. He had to shake me out of my stupor. Very embarassing. It didn't make me feel any better when he told me that said wet instructor in shorts was single.

I spent the rest of my workout burning with shame.

To make matters worse, as I was leaving the gym, the instructor that embarassed me (we'll call him meanie instructor to avoid confusion and the other one is wet shorts instructor) said that the spinning class were going for a curry and did I want to come to seduce wet shorts instructor? Much to my own suprise, said yes.

So, we are sitting in this curry house, me, a load of super fit spinning people and various instructors. Mean instructor is talking to me. The man is gorgeous, he's just all dark with blue eyes and this body....Mmmm. I get a chance to talk to wet shorts as well, who is also gorgeous, but blond, and I briefly consider a job in fitness. Then the curry house bloke brings this karioke machine, which is odd. Maybe karioke in a chinese, but not an indian. Do you see where this is going?

So a load of pissed people start singing the usual- 'I will survive', 'my way', 'God save the queen' and all that. Mean instructor says 'Come on, lets sing!'. Now I can't sing, really, I'm not afraid to admit that. I cannot sing and I wil not sing in public. Meanie doesn't understand. I tell him I will dance, act, perform magic, hell I'd even rap for him, but singing?

He understands, and then feels it is necessary for him to sing to me. He sings 'Bootylicious', which is not only a girls song, it is a song that I LOVE and now he's ruining it by shaking his (well toned, fit, yummy) booty at me. One by one, everyone puts their food down and observes that yes, he is in fact singing to me and, oh look! He's doing a... what's that? Oh a lap dance! He's singing 'Is my body too bootylicous for you babe?' to me and trying to shag my leg! It feels SO wrong!

So I am, once again in my life, burning with shame. What have I done to make this stupid, yet gorgeous man sing and dance for me? He doesn't stop there. Wet shorts gets up and together they sing an array of Robbie Williams songs.

So at the end of the evening, I'm a little bemused, not only did I find myself out with a gang of fit men, one 'performed' (I think that is the only suitable word) for me and, well, what a random night.

Oh the humiliation...

2005-03-30T22:37:00.000Z

What makes someone to sing to me in public?

Is it insanity, drunkeness, love, what? Really?

My body's determination for me to never have sex again.

2005-03-29T00:10:00.000Z

There are some people that seem to go through life faultlessly, everything runs smooth for them, no glitches. Then there are people like me whose life is really just lots of embarassing situations and misunderstandings. I'm not talking about the big stuff, I mean the way that life runs from day to day. Sometimes I wonder about the stuff that goes on with me, and really, you couldn't make it up. Last night was one of those times.

My body gave up on me in spectacular fashion.

Or I should say my face.

I am the kind of person whose skin tends to be fairly normal. I clean it and moisturise it every morning and night, I always take my make-up off before bed and occasionally treat it to a facial. I keep it happy. And what do I get in return? I had some kind of skin crisis yesterday.

I woke up yesterday morning and my infected eye looked kinda red and swollen, but that wasn't a big deal, that can be sorted with make-up. But my face! I washed it and it kinda went all flaky, so I spent all day drinking water and plumping it with my Mum's Creme de la Mer. Didn't work. My skin just turned red, blotchy and really sensitive. I was supposed to be going to the pub with my friends (including hot kisser James) and I started to panic. The one time I find a nice guy and my face falls apart. Cool.

I tried putting my foundation on. Now I previously thought that Mac can solve anything, but no. I tried to rub it in and my skin just went horrible, I looked like I had scales. I started to cry. Eventually I was saved by Clarin's Beauty Flash Balm (good stuff) and my make-up went on fine. I looked I had put it on with a trowel, but no-one seemed to notice.

Why would my face do this to me? Honestly, there is always something. It might seem trivial to some people, but really did I have to rebuild my facial structure with clown make-up yesterday?

I know everyone is talking about dating and stuff right now, but what's the point of even trying when a simple act like putting your make-up can't be done?

It's like my body has a vendetta against me. NO! I will not be going on any dates, I will not have sex for the third fucking time this year. NO! I will not go out and enjoy myself, no way. NO! Don't even think about hot kisses against walls. Instead my eye will look like a grape, I will have to hold my face together with my Mum's collection of anti-aging creams, and meanwhile my body will do the one last crime against me- it will forget how to have sex.

Dinner with the mafia and the hottest kiss EVER.

2005-03-28T16:00:00.000Z

Yesterday was Easter, right? Personally I'm not so big on Easter, when I was a kid it was all about the chocolate and these days it's about Easter weekend and how many all-dayers I can fit into it. Reading other people's blogs, Easter seems to be taken a lot more seriously in America than it is here. People in the UK have no sense of family at all.

So yesterday I went out for a pub lunch with my Mum, my brother, my Mum's friend, my Mum's boyfriend and his family. It started off okay, my Mum got into a bit of a mardy about me drinking- in her eyes I haven't turned 18 yet, I am a mere 12 in her eyes I think.

Me and my brother refer to Mum's boyfriend's Dad as The Godfather. He is the dodgiest man in Europe. He is very rich through some very ellusive 'business' and frightens the crap out of me. I'm convinced he's in the mafia.

My Mum is a person who has obviously never had a shitty job in a restaurant or a shop. Her manner towards waitresses is actually painful to watch. I always go with her to order food at the bar because she is so horrible. So yesterday the waitress comes over and first asks The Boyfriend what he wishes to eat. My Mum answers for him- what is she, his mother?

'Can you do him a green salad?'
'Yeah with lettuce and that?'
'Yes but he will only eat green food today'
'Right, any dressing?'
'Can you do an olive oil and balsamic vinegar dressing?'
'Erm we don't have that, see we do pub lunches, it's only what we have on the menu, we have salad cream'
'Salad cream is mayonaise for poor people'
'Well I'm sorry, but like I said we're only a small pub'
'Do you have any sardines in a tin?'
'I did mention that it's only really what's on the menu'

See what I have to deal with? This went on and on, she requested camenbert cheese, rocket, caviar and all manner of foods that you just don't get in pubs. I thought the waitress was going to cy, I felt so bad for her.

The Godfather smoked so many Marlboro Reds that I have an eye infection today from sitting next to him. He kept blowing smoke in my face and my left eye is completely red and swollen today. What a twat.

So after all that I went on a double date with James, and my friend who's going out with his brother. It was so nice, I got quite drunk on wine but I could talk to him forever and once again there was the hottest kiss I think I've ever had in my life. He pushed me up against the wall outside the pub, and just, wow. It made my legs go all weak and it was just amazing. I have never been kissed like that before.

About Friday night.

2005-03-27T16:18:00.000Z

The time- 6pm Saturday
The place- my bed

My phone is ringing, I pick up:

Me: Yes?
Rach: Oh my god you're still in bed?
Me: Noooooo....
Rach: You lazy bitch! Were you out last night?
Me: Yeahhhh
Rach: Did you go to Quilted Llama?
Me: Yeah we went round all the Lace Market bars.
Rach: So it was you then.
Me: Huh?
Rach: My friends saw you practically shagging some guy on the stairs in Quilted Llama, said it looked like you.
(silence)
Rach: And I said 'Oh thats the girl I'm living with next year'.
(silence)
Rach: Did you sleep with him?
Me: NO! He was a hot kisser though, mmm he was nice Rach.
Rach: You musta been so pissed.
Me: I drank a child's paddling pool's worth of booze. We had fishbowls.
Rach: Was it James, I take it you were kissing him?
Me: Yeah it was hot, he's yum.
Rach: So what else hapenned?
Me: Theo got arrested for pissing on council property, I was loving the old school.... sorry Rach I'm just so hungover.
Rach: What you doing later?
Me: Oh I'm going to the pub....
Rach: You gonna see him again?
Me: Yeah he's been texting me and we're going out this week. Like grown ups!
Rach: Oh cool!
Me: Yeah.... okay I need sleep Rach.....

Let the beat hit em....

2005-03-26T21:28:00.000Z

Okay, I wanted to write a post about how cool last night was, and I wanted to comment on everyone elses blogs, but frankly I'm so fucked that my fingers and eyes, okay every part of me has stopped working.

I have to say this though- I've only read Amber Lynns blog today (I'd link, but that would involve effort...) and it's really fun go read it. Also, AL if you're reading, what was your last comment on my blog all about?

It's 930pm and I've only just got out of bed. I'm going to fry the contents of my fridge, cover it in cheese, eat it and go back to bed with a large cup of tea.

Tomorrow I will come back and write something useful. It involves the hottest kiss of my life, my friend being arrested, and a fishbowl.

(By the way, I'd completely forgotten how much I LOVE Lisa Lisa until last night. Old school rules!!!!)

So, are you a fittie or a weirdo?

2005-03-25T13:35:00.000Z

Wow, I just read Blue 944's post, and it relates perfectly to what I was planning to write about today.

He has these photos of what he thinks people really look like, and I find it so interesting. Does everyone do this? Personally I haven't given it much thought, but now I imagine everyone to be either fitties or weirdos. Imagine if everyone met up for a drink, it would be so cool to guess who's who. I think it would be the trippiest thing to find out what everyone looks like. Hmmm.

People always assume British people have these amazing accents, all posh and refined. This is not true. A tiny proportion of people that live near London speak like this. The rest of us have mouths like fishwives, especially me. I say this because yesterday I went into the gym and my instructor came over, all smiley and started to talk about my programme. I chipped in and he was all 'Oh so you're from here then'. I replied 'Yes I grew up here this is my home town, I lived here for 18 years but now I'm mainly in Leeds'. He seemed appalled at my accent, and kept going on about how he expected me to talk like my Mum. Very odd.

As a child I was aware that I didn't look quite like the other kids, I had a long, weird name that no one else had, I was a little darker and my Mum spoke another language. Certain people always seem a little bemused when they see me and I come out with my Nottinghamshire accent. But I don't get it. We shouldn't live in a world where everyone should speak like everyone expects them to. Britain is really multicultural, and I'm continually confused by it.

Another thing that gets me is when people assume your tastes by what you look like. I've mentioned before that I love music and know loads about it. Take me into any club and I'll sing along to every song they play. Yet I meet people who will challange this. They'll ask me questions about bands and songs, and it bugs me. If I go into Rock City on alternative night I'll be bound to get some grebby 15 yr old come up to me and be all like 'So you like RHCP then?' and when I say 'Yes I've seen them live twice' I get a million questions, like I have to prove my credibility. I hate it so much. Everyone judges on appearance, we can't help it, but theres judging, and there's being mean.

Really, do I need to have blonde hair and pale skin to call myself English? And do I need to change what I wear so I fit into every single club I go into?

So it really was 'the feelings'!!

2005-03-24T13:22:00.000Z

Oh god, last night was so us being 15 again, it was quite scary. It was so pretty and sunny yesterday that we started our little party at 5pm in the garden. Jax had the best news- apparantly James asked her to make sure I was coming out on Friday, and Jax (the fool) told him he was in there if he has some handcuffs to which he apparantly raised his eyebrows in an approving manner. So I spent 2 hours getting information out of her. I found out the following: he is basically the male version of me. In every way. So there was 'the feelings' and I am SO looking forward to Friday night!

So I won't say too much about last night, but I will say this:

Between 3 of us, in 2 hours we consumed-
2 18" pizzas
20 potato waffles
10 potato smiley faces
2 chocolate cakes
50 mini chocolate bars
4 bottles of white wine
15 bacardi breezers
a small bottle of malibu rum

Then the party started, during the course of the party, the following happened:
(in no particular order)
I dropped my camera in the toilet
2 films of 'The Swayze' were watched and enjoyed
My friends brother stole my hotpants and wore them with relative ease for an hour
We went into the woods to 'find' Robin Hood
We smoked so much that today I cannot locate my vocal chords
There was a dance out Bassment Jaxx's new song 'Oh My Gosh' during which my friend threw up for the third time this week.

Ok, other news. First, Joe is back! Joy!

Second, Lunatic, it depends where you live on how much a flight costs to England, but you're always welcome round mine!

Third, Dan, I too will be in Notts this weekend. On Friday I'll be in Rock City, I'll be the girl having a dance out with all the olds, and on Sat I'll be in The Waterfront, probably trying not to fall in the trent .

Fourth, I cannot get on to Martini Love's comments, why?

Holy crap! I think I found a man!

2005-03-22T22:46:00.000Z

Today I had a screaming tantrum at the computer (I'm still a teenager, by 9 months, I can still get away with it...) and my brother agreed that in the interests of the family, the computer, and my mental health, we should connect my laptop to our internet. I'm much calmer now, using something which appears to have a working modem, doesn't turn off at random intervals and doesn't pain me in the head.

So I'm kinda in two minds about being back home, on the negative side, my family is intensely irritating, and they have no technology in the country, but I've had so much fun being at home.

Monday night was pub quiz night (I am the pub quiz queen, but more about that later). So I went with Jax and Jamie to meet our friends at the pub. We started out in The Crown, which is a horrid skank pub, but with the cheapest drinks any of have ever found. So after 8 doubles, we're well on our way, and then Jax's boyf comes in. He has his brother with him, and I've met him before, he was in the year above me at school, but suddenly he's looking a whole lot fitter and I get 'the feelings'.

And so, we move on to The Rodney for the pub quiz. So, my 'queen' status. You know how, when you're a kid, and you think you're parents know everything, ever? and then at some point you realise that your Dad, doesn't, in fact know everything? Well, I haven't reached that point yet, and it's not because I'm incredibly simple, it's because my Dad knows everything. EVERYTHING. So basically, he has been transferring his knowledge to me over the years, and now I am the pub quiz queen.

So on Monday, we won the pub quiz, and I get talking to James, (Jax's boyf's brother). Turns out he's moving up to be a policeman in Leeds this summer. My reaction? 'Holy shit! With the uniform? and the handcuffs?'. And he didn't look frightened, he smiled! So I was beginning to think, hmmm, is he man enough for me? So we carry on talking, and I appear to be making him laugh (I'm hoping it's my cutting remarks and wit, not my drunkeness) and me Jax are laughing about how skank I tend to be to boyfs, and again, he smiles, no fear.

Then the final test. The landlord decides to have a lock-in (we ended up staying until 3) so everyone does their party trick. Mine, as mentioned in my 100 things, is my obscenely long tongue. Turns out he has one too. Meant to be, hmmm?

So outside, it all becomes very Sweet Valley High, and he offers me his jacket, and we chat even more, and I feel about 15 years old. There's a party tomorrow night and he might be there, and a night out to Notts on Friday that I know he's coming to, so...

I never get 'the feelings' for anyone these days, and I really hope it was 'the feelings' and not 'the drunkeness'.

And if it doesn't work out, according to Bran, I should be shagging Lunatic.....

I'm moving to India tomorrow. To get married. To a woman. So no, I don't want to dance.

2005-03-20T17:37:00.000Z

Yesterday Wales won the rugby (I'm half Welsh remember) so my Dad insisted I come to his local to celebrate with the rest of my family. I brought Rachel, as my Dad's family scare me. They're all blond and pregnant and think I'm odd for being foreign and educated. I don't talk about my Dad much. People always say 'I know your Mum's mad and that, but what's your Dad like?' and I always reply the same thing 'My Dad named me after a member of the Rolling Stones and is onto his third wife'. Really, that's all they need to know.

So we got there and my scary Welsh Grandad had come too. He scares me cuz he calls everyone 'boyo', which is a Welsh term of endearment for males, but he feels the need to use it for everyone. So I go in and he's like 'V! Boyo! Are you still doing that education thing? Look, our Tamara's got her third now and she's only 17, you not sprogged up yet?' We didn't stay long.

So me and Rach went into the city, around 9pm as she felt like a bmw hunt and I'm her pulling partner, so off we went. We started off in Dogma which is always full of rich city men, so I was happy to get drinks bought for me, but Rach was sulking so we ended up in Faces which is always full of bmws.

It was in Faces last night that I totally lost all faith in men. I wasn't particularly drunk last night, but I was having a really good time catching up with Rach, and wasn't really in the mood for pulling. Faces plays wicked music on a Saturday though, so we just wanted to dance. Then this guy taps me on my arm and starts to talk to me. I am confused. Obvioulsy no-one has ever explained the rules of pulling to him:

1. If you are a fat, ugly, pissed up balding troll, do not attempt to talk to girls half your age who are obviously not on the pull for a fat, ugly, pissed up balding troll.
2. Don't make a move unless someone is clearly interested in you. ie, if they have made no attempt at eye contact and keep telling you to piss off, they probably aren't interested.
3. If a girl throws a drink in your face, she doesn't want your phone number.
4. Do not return later in the night asking said girl if you can be her friend, she has plenty of friends already, and has no room in her life for a crack-flashing troll in Burberry.
5. Don't go on to complain that all 'half blacks are the same'. Firstly, this girl is not 'half black', secondly, the pc term these days is 'bi-racial'-, and thirdly, Rach's bmw heard that and he's going to fuck you up outside.

Similarly, Rach pulls a fittie bmw and I'm left talking to his moronic wing man. He too, needs the rules of pulling explained to him:

1. If a girl pretends to be Spanish to avoid speaking to you, it's not a good sign.
2. If she keeps saying 'adios' and motioning towards the bar, also not a good sign.
3. If she tells you she's moving to India tomorrow, to get married, to a woman, do not attempt to blockade her into a corner of the dancefloor- It's just NOT MEANT TO BE.
4. Don't spend the rest of your night shaking your ass to attract her attention.
5. If you are foolish enough to ask for her number, when she replies 'It's in the phone book', and you realise she hasn't even told you her name, just go home. Do not, repeat DO NOT chase her car down the road yelling 'Quiero saber tu nombre!!!!'

I've said it before, but really, seriously, where have all the good men gone?

I have been to Nottingham, Leeds, Manchester, Newcastle, London, Liverpool, Bristol and have found none. Is there some secret place where they all go? Have I done something really bad?

From the ghetto of Leeds to ....the ghettos of a small town in rural England?!

2005-03-19T12:06:00.000Z

So last night was the first night everyone was back from Uni, and as usual we all went to our small-town local. We started off having such a fun night, I was out with 3 really good friends, and there were loads of people from our year there as well. There were a number of traumatising incidents- ex boyfs feeling the need to talk to me, Jake (sauna boy) feeling the need to smaile and say hi, Amy (slut in the year above me) feeling the need to tell eveyone she's going to be a page 3 girl. I got so pissed there was no need to ex text- the pub contained all my ex boyfs, free for me to harrass them all.

So the town where I live is really middle class, lots of rich parents with too much money, and as a result, loads of kids are on drugs. They did a survey in yr 10 at school, and 90% of students had done weed at some point, by yr 13, 30% had done class A drugs (this is very high for a non- inner city school). So quite a few people were pilled-up, but we are used to this. It's quite funny really, you walk in and everyone's drinking from water bottles. If you didn't notice their eyes are purple, you'd think the young people of this town are not drunken, drugged up fools.

So about 10:30 these police come into the pub. We expected them to just check everyone's ID, which is what they normally do, as probably half the people in the pub are under 18, but they have police dogs, so we're like 'what the.....'. I mean really, we're in Sherwood Forest, not the Bronx. So everyone gets IDd and checked for drugs, then a guy in my year, Ben gets caught trying to escape. They get there guns out (yes GUNS) and pin him to the floor and arrest him and all his friends. Turns out they had a whole ton of drugs on them. So everone kinda leaves early, little bit confused. Then, outside the pub, this souped- up Peugeot 206 flys by, and I know that's my mate Dave's car. Then a police car flys by, with sirens and that. And they block him off- Starsky and Hutch style. We really had nothing to say by this point and decide to just continue drinking at my house, the conversation in the car went something like this:

(2 mins of silence)
Jax- They drugs-busted the Rodney.
(30 secs of silence)
Jax- Guys! They had a drugs bust IN OUR LOCAL.
Ali- They arrested Ben.... V he's your ex.
Sophia- Yeah V, you're hard core now.
V- Soph your ex got chased by a bloody police car!
Jax- You don't get it, we live in the countryside!
Ali- I was aware of that, idiot. Will they come back tomorrow you think?
V- Does this make me and Soph bad people?
Jax- Do we dare go out in Nottingham now?
Sophia- God can there be more drugs in Nottingham than there are here?
Ali- Not even Colombia has more Coke than here.
V- Really, am I a ho for having a gangster ex?
(30 secs of silence)
Jax- God they drugs-busted the Rodney...
(everyone nods in acknowledgement)
Soph- why am I sat on a wine bottle?

So I take back everything I said about small towns, maybe they aren't so boring....

On a another note, I couldn't get to the gym today, cuz some moron left his cow in the road, causing a traffic queue for a mile. Who forgets a cow?

I miss the city.

2005-03-18T21:30:00.000Z

Since I got back to Notts yesterday, I've been appalled at the total lack of technological advancements here. We live next to Sherwood Forest, the same one that Robin Hood lived in, and you would think we living in Robin Hood time. First, we have only just got broadband, and yet the computer is still ridiculously slow. Screaming and shouting at it to 'come the fuck on!!' hasn't helped. The very thought of commenting on everyone's blogs is quite frightening, as would take me all day. However, my laptop has wireless connection, so as soon as I buy the thing (my brother knows what it is) that makes it work I'll be sorted.

I went into the city today, as the trees and stuff were beginning to piss me off. It was so nice to hear people talking in my accent and really cool to go on the tram again (do they have trams anywhere outside England?). It was actually warm today, I'd also forgotten how much warmer it is down here, and the guys are so much fitter as well. Anyway, I sorted out my job and I start on Monday, as a Grown Up.

One thing I totally forgot about home was that everyone here knows each other. Every car I pass, someone waves at me, in most shops I went in today, I knew someone. It's a little scary how small town it is. I was in the gym last night, looking nasty and muffin top-esque in my too-small bikini in the sauna. Three guys I went to school with were in there and it was awful. I was too scared to get up and leave, because the true extent of my tiny bikini would be visible from behind. That was just too horrible to contemplate.... So I had to stay in the sauna for 30 minutes, I almost died.

I'm going to the ultimate small town get together now, the pub. I fully expect to have to hide behind my drink at every ex I see, I must also try not to laugh at all the 16 yr olds trying to get served and I really must not hit on my brother's friends. God, I miss the city.

No-one puts Baby in the corner.

2005-03-16T18:53:00.000Z

I love Wednesdays, they're my off from uni (okay so I take most days off, but Weds is day off sans guilt). Every Wednesday I do absolutely f-a. I piss about on the internet, read magazines and watch DVDs. Tonight's theme for DVDs is 80s/dancing. So I just watched Dirty Dancing and had to post about my bad and wrong love of The Swayze. What is it about men with fit arms that can dance? Every time I watch DD I feel so wrong for perving on The Swayze. He's old enough to be my Dad, but those arms!

For a long time I've lusted after a guy who can dance, and have been unable to find one. Is that what it is about The Swayze? The dancing? I don't fancy him as much in Ghost, or Point Break, so I'm guessing it's the combination of fit arms and dancing. Does anyone else fancy The Swayze in DD or is it just my wrong and twisted mind?

We need a bloggers ball for defs now. That way I can sift through the crap and find the good dancers! Are Americans good dancers?

4 weeks.

2005-03-16T13:31:00.000Z

I'm going home tomorrow for the Easter holidays. I just realised it will be the longest time I've spent at home since July, and I'm starting to panic. 4 weeks. Will I be able to handle my mother for 4 weeks? I think not. Prior to July, we had a somewhat tumultuous relationship, and me not being in the house seemed to remedy that. Okay, so I'll be working, and out with my friends, I may even venture to see my Dad, but I'll still be stuck in the house for 4 weeks, and not even the thought of my holiday makes me feel better.

Today I realised something awful. Rach asked me about my love life, to which I replied I think I may have forgotten how to have sex, it has been that long. This is mainly because of this virus I've had, but still. Then Rach kindly pointed out I will not pull anyone at home, because I know everyone there, and Notts men are all twats. For example, Rach's ex sent her a text today saying he wishes she was dead. The last Notts guy I went out with turned up at my end of term party and smirked at me all night.

I'm beginning to think I repell men in some way. I cannot remember the last great guy I went out with. Am I hideous? You've seen my eye, I'm not hideous am I? I tell you, if Bran holds this bloggers ball and the men are fit...

Fit!!

2005-03-16T10:28:00.000Z

I miss having a TV to watch the football.

I miss watching Sweden's finest export, Freddie Ljungberg.

I miss watching him strip off at the end of the match.

Hell, I even miss Sweden. Not that I've ever been there....

Trust everyone, just don't trust the devil in them.

2005-03-15T15:00:00.000Z

Before I start, a message for That Girl: your post has had me thinking, actual deep thinking about trust ALL DAY! I even spoke about it to my Mum for a good hour on the phone.

Ok, I'm over the NB I had yesterday, I think I actually went crazy for a bit. But I had a really long sleep and today's been great so far. I had my blood test, and it was the same bitch nurse that stabbed me last time. I got an email from my personal tutor saying there's no way I'll be kicked off the course, so that's cheered me up loads. I had my first day back at Uni today, I had a seminar, and god, it was such a waste of time. I have this tutor who is so far up his own arse he can't see us giving him evils all the time. It took all the energy I had in me to not hurl my copy of Paradise Lost in his face and yell 'Shut up you pretentious loser! Can you not see we don't understand your incessant rambling?'. I just know he spends all his free time smoking cigars and drinking black coffee with his twat friends discussing the greatness of Wordsworth over Coleridge, but really is anyone better than Milton?

Another cool thing is that I have a job, an actual Grown Up's job at that as well, just to last me the holidays. My friend Alison spent all last Christmas working with this temp company, so she sent them my CV and I will be a Grown Up, in a Grown Up suit, no less, as from Friday. It's at home, and I'll be at home for a period of more than a week for the first time since July, which is a bit of a worry, but I have a Grown Up job!!!!

That Girl wrote the most thought-provoking post today, and it got me thinking about how much we trust people. When I moved into my flat, my flatmates could have been anyone, one turned out to be a complete asshole, but seriously, I don't know who they are. Similarly, I'm going to live with two people I will have known for a mere 9 months in June. I love Rach and Ash to bits, but really, I've had this bag of pasta under my bed longer than I've known them.

I have never had a one night stand, mainly because of safety. I don't think it's safe to sleep with a stranger. Yet I would probably sleep with them some weeks later, but does this make them any less threatening? For a couple of years now, the guys I meet tend to be on nights out. Yet I go on dates, have relationships, and I don't know for sure who they are until I've met their friends, or parents, and even then, it's dubious. Yet if I meet someone through a mutual friend, I'm automatically more trusting.

You know sometimes, when you just meet someone, and you kinda click? Is there a difference there? I have always trusted my instincts, and I have had bad instincts about people, and really good instincts, all of which have worked in my favour. Some people are automatically distrusting, but this isn't completely me. As a 19 yr old female living in a city I have to have a level of distrust, as it's a dangerous place, but unless my instincts tell me otherwise, I won't decide if I trust you or not unless I know you better.

If there was a real situation where I met someone off of this blog, I cannot rule out all possibilities. As most of you aren't English, there probably wouldn't be a situation where we would meet, but really, you would know more about me than someone I just met in a bar and went out for a drink with.

Is this scarier or safer?

Breaking point.

2005-03-14T14:09:00.000Z

What the fuck is up with everything today? My computer has turned all the writing in my windows into giant childrens storybook writing! And whats the deal with haloscan? Why aren't my comments showing up!? Holy fuck can nothing go right in this world?!?!

Well I broke down in the doctors, I'll be suprised if I don't get treated for mild depression. She said I should consider dropping out and re-taking the year if I have any more time off. Merde! I rang my Mum to tell her and she started to cry saying she can't afford it. I also started to cry and everyone got very emotional. I'm having another blood test tomorrow to determine what's wrong with me.

This computer is pissing me off so much! Where is Blue944 when you need him?

I'm going to have a NB if something is not done soon.

2005-03-14T07:15:00.000Z

Yesterday was quite traumatic in quite a pathetic, girly way. Rach phoned me in the small hours of the morning, in tears as her bikini also no longer fits. I spent two hours telling her it's not that big a deal (I need to tell this to myself) and a further hour talking about how much men suck. It was all very Sweet Valley High. I told her all about my trip to Manchester, including the hellish car journey- I was so lost and stressed out that my friends forced me to stop for a little cry and a ciggie, I don't smoke, but god that stuff calmed me down. By the time we got there we were all pale and shaking. I think everyone has gone a bit crazy this week.

It reminded me of sixth form, where they used to make us drive to school trips (that’s how shit my school was) and they were always in the most obscure places. The driver always ended up stressed and in tears, pulled up on the motorway with a ciggie, regardless of whether they smoked or not. Once we had to make our way to Sheffield, and my friend had a bit of a NB and decided she couldn’t take any more. We had to hitch, but unfortunately ended up in Barnsley. We had all got to know Britain’s motorways very well by the time we left sixth form.

The driving isn’t what’s getting me though. Being ill for so long has been so frustrating, I've just been sitting around my flat, painting my nails, reading magazines and finding ways to avoid work. I've turned into my Dad's girlfriend. My friends are convinced I'm contagious, and so keep their distance. The only people that call me are Ali, Rach, and my Mum, who all live in Nottingham.

I was long due for some sort of NB. I'm one of those people who will be fine for months, but every now and then just go a bit crazy, I have a Bridget Jones moment, where I need to put my pyjamas on, and drink wine, and bitch with my friends about how sucky everything is. I’m seeing the doctor again today, and if they don’t find out what is wrong with me, I’m going to scream. I’ve been ill for six weeks. That’s 42 days! I have had swollen tonsils, headaches, and a complete lack of motivation and concentration for six weeks! This will be the end of me if someone doesn’t sort me out soon.

I think yesterday managed to break me.

I need to lose the muffin top.

2005-03-13T21:36:00.000Z

Is it possible to drop a dress size in 3 weeks?

Me and Rach have decided that cold shitty England and our knackered overdrafts can go to hell and we're going on holiday in three weeks. I'm really looking forward to it, we're going to get a last minute job for about £100. However, I had a mini panic attack when I tried to get in my bikini earlier and realised I am no longer a size 8 (This is UK sizes by the way). Holy crap. What I am going to do?

The normal option, my annual pre-summer gym fest, is out of the question. The last time I went to the gym, one of the highlighted, perma tanned, cockney, gay boy personal trainers told me my legs were too long for my body and that those of 'Latin origin' (his words) should just accept we aren't going to ever be skinny. I don't dare book a new programme to tone up quick in case I get that metrosexual twat telling me it can't be done.

I didn't think I'd need to start the summer tone up until May. I can't be bothered with buying another bikini, and there's none in the shops anyway. Help! I can't be the girl in the too-small bikini that people always laugh at. I'll have a muffin top! What the hell do I do to get from a size 10 to size 8 in a mere 21 days?

On a different note, today I went shopping to Manchester with Ali, and the highlight of the trip was discovering our friend now lives next to a sex shop and the only thing we bought was underwear and 50 flavoured condoms. What does this say about us?

I live with a malaysian arsonist.

2005-03-12T23:51:00.000Z

I promise, I swear down, this is the last bitch about my flatmate. But, what the hell did I do in a past life that was so bad? I am trying to have an early night, and in my innocence decide to do some washing. BIG mistake! Someone put their rubber bathmat in the dryer. Hmm, I wonder who would be thick enough to ignore a sign the size of Australia that says ‘DO NOT PLACE RUBBER OR PLASTIC IN THE DRYER’? What, in the name of all that is holy, goes on in her head?! Did she not notice the stench of burning fibres coming from the dryer? How about the smoke?

Message to CMF: I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you…

I hate my flatmate!!!

2005-03-12T02:30:00.000Z

The stupidity of people worries me sometimes. I mean, everyone has their silly moments, but there are people in this world who are so stupid it puts the fear of god in me. One of these people is my flatmate CMF. After Blogger fucked up royally, I needed a drink (didn’t we all ) so me and my friends decide to make cocktails..

Upon returning to my flat, I find our sub warden mouthing off at CMF. Turns out she almost killed the people on the floor below us. She left the tap on in her room, with the plug in, and went into the kitchen. Who does this? Who would be thick enough to assume it’s okay to have running water in their room while they make a quick snack?

So, the sub informs me that he received a complaint from the flat below. The running water obviously leaked through their ceiling, not only causing damage, but it made the fire alarm go off. And the water got into the system so bad that the electrics messed up and set the ceiling on fire. ‘Oh dear’ she said to him. Oh dear indeed.

So it’s pretty bad, but she has to pay for all the damage! Finally, the gods answer my wishes for her to be skanked the way skanks everyone else every day. Oh how I laughed at her trying to tell the sub that there wasn’t much water, and how I laughed when he tried to spell her name.

If I anyone thinks I’m being a total bitch without reason, you are mistaken. I have so much reason. This is a person who thinks cooking can be done from your bedroom. I’m not quite sure where she got this novel concept from, but the amount of times I’ve walked into the kitchen to find a pan of boiled dry pasta about to explode. And to think she’s doing medicine.

I might write to the BMA and demand that she is not allowed to practise. Aren’t doctors supposed to be hygienic and healthy? Cuz they are two things that she is not. She has a certain smell about her, no one knows what it is, but it’s not a happy smell. I have never seen her clean the kitchen, in fact, on more than one occasion I’ve seen her throwing food on the floor. There are no pigeons in the flat, why is she doing this?

And the food. Ick is all I have to say. She has crammed the fridge with the poisoned orange substance that masquerades as Sunny D, along with various microwaved crap. She doesn’t own nice food. She cooks it all in the microwave (do they not use cookers in Malaysia?) and cooks it uncovered so that when she is ‘cooking’ in her room, the food gets all over the microwave. I’m convinced one day the microwave will start to eat itself. There’s enough shit inside to make about 5 curries.

Ok, I am ranting, I’m sorry. It’s just that it is 2:30 am, and someone I live with almost took the building down. My friends are too drunk and too busy laughing at her to listen. I have to vent my anger somewhere. CMF digusts me and someone’s going to hear about it.

Other business- That Girl I cannot access the comments on your blog and it is quite upsetting!
I miss Happy and Blue2.
Did anyone read my posts about my drunken antics? What did you think? Both text-ex guy and fittie James have been texting me, and I’m too scared to reply, what do I do? Also, I have two msn addresses, and James appears to have blocked me on only one, what does this mean?

I hate Blogger.

2005-03-11T21:55:00.000Z

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

Whoever invented this shit was definately male. No woman would make anything so ridiculously complicated and badly behaved.

Holy shit, it worked! God, that was hard. Giving birth probably involves less stress.

2005-03-11T21:20:00.000Z

Great. I can't access my comments on Blogger or Haloscan. It was too much to ask wasn't it?

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DOES NOTHING WORK???????

Don't leave a comment, and don't email me cuz hotmail will play up then. If you comment by telepathy that would be great!

2005-03-11T19:23:00.000Z

Oh look, haloscan worked. But why the fuck is it all big and sitting in a really obvious way on the wrong post? Anyone know how to change this?

2005-03-11T19:16:00.000Z

I can't comment on my own post, obviously no-one else can, unless you hate what I've written. Is that it? Do you hate what I write? Blogger is such a shit that I can't even put haloscan, it refuses to republish. And to make matters worse, I cannot access everyone elses comments that has haloscan- yes That Girl I'm talking to you.

Is this forever? Is this it? Is Blogger just giving up now? Or I do I just write about shit?!

The fittie, the ex, and the crazy people.

2005-03-11T13:13:00.000Z

My, is blogger behaving like a petulant child! If it wasn’t for a my cool English reserve, there would have been some harsh words exchanged, but, well, teething problems, who knows…

So, I have gossip from last night, not that any of you know any of the people involved, but it’s gossip all the same. Last night was Carrie’s birthday, and it was also the end of term party for our halls. But, because I’m slowly turning into an 80 year old woman, I had a nap and when I woke up, everyone had gone so I walked up. This was a silly thing to do, the area I live in is rough, it’s a ghetto, a proper shithole. I heard on the news my area has the highest reports of crime on the country (think about it, in THE ENTIRE UK my area is the worst). My local park has the highest reporting of rape in the north, and the Yorkshire Ripper (infamous rapist and murderer) lived only 5 minutes from here. Oh yeah, and they found a leg in the woods next to my flat a few weeks ago. This is all true, you can google it and see for yourself.

So, I make it out of the ghetto alright, but then once I get into the city this crazy woman starts to talk to me. Crazy people always talk to me, why is this? They say ‘I love you, why don’t you cheer up?’. Well, I don’t think you’d be smiling if some herpes-ridden druggie accosted you in the middle of the street either.

But I digress. So I make it into the party, and it’s fun, cuz everyone knows each other, and the DJ is playing Van Halen so I’m happy. But then something happens. As I scan the room, a pair of familiar blue eyes catch mine and our mouths utter the same beautiful phrase- ‘What the fuck are you doing here?!’. I walk over with that forced smile people do that makes them look frightened. It was James. Not fittie James (we’ll get to him later), but ex James, who cheated on me, and generally acted like a complete piece. So why is he here? I ask him. What’s so wrong with Nottingham that he feels the need to come to Leeds, to a private party, and taunt me? Turns out his best friend lives downstairs.

So I wander on, undefeated, and run into Max. I love Max. He’s the poshest person I’ve ever met, and he’s on my course, and we go to the bar. This is where I run into fittie James. I think ‘Be cool’ as he walks over- (He smelt really nice, isn’t it great when guys smell nice?). And he asks where I’ve been, and I explain about the virus. And we chat, and I can’t believe I haven’t fallen over yet, or spilt my blue cocktail all over my white top. He keeps leaning in closer, and I get the feelings -you know the feelings.

I spend my night with Carrie, as it’s her birthday, and I witness very strange behaviour. First, she keeps putting her head up some guys top- what would Freud have to say about that? And we all catch her getting off with Torre, an Swedish student. We’re like- ‘Carrie? What the fuck? You’re snogging Torre?!’

Oh and I end up getting really wasted, and decide to harass this guy on my course. He keeps calling me ‘Darlin’ and ‘Sweetheart’ (he’s from London) which is intensely irritating, but he’s actually quite nice. He keeps asking ‘You’ll be in seminar next week yeah? I like sitting with you? Yeah? Yeah darlin?’.

And the night ends with fittie James. He comes up to me, puts his arm around me and whispers the following in my ear- ‘Hey, so my girlfriend's out tonight, but I can make her go home. How about it?’

I turned him down of course. But really, if it’s not one thing, it’s men behaving like prats. I bet it’s a man than runs Blogger.

All my bad dates captured in cyberspace forever...

2005-03-10T05:24:00.000Z

I needed last night! It was so much fun, and we played barrier! However, I am a little disappointed that my alcohol tolerance, that I've worked so hard on, is back to what it was when I first started drinking, but never mind. I went to the pub with Clare and Martin in the end. The entire conversation revolved around Martins friends, and the fact that both me and Clare have each dated one of his mates. He reckons that gives him 'privileges' to our friends. It does not!

And so the inevitable 'ex texting' began. This happens to many women when they are drunk. For some reason, god knows why, you think it would be a great idea to ex-text. I'm first, as I am the most drunk. My text reads- 'Yo bitch! I'm on all-dayer with M and C, just saying hi. Y ddnt u call me u flaming assrag? I'm pissed! x x x'. I don't normally talk like this. I don't even like the guy anymore. It's just seems impossible to get drunk and not harrass a guy you once dated.

So Clare joins in on the ex-text action, the guy she last dated was only after sex, and her text reads- 'In pub. Drunk. Call me. Clare.' I had to send it for her because the alcohol made her fingers stop working. By the end of the night, everyone knows each others latest secrets, and we've made plans to go out over easter. Then I am suddenly informed there's pictures of me on the internet. I'm like 'Come again?', but Clare informs me that some (evil and sadistic) website takes pictures of your nights out and posts them on the net. Worse, there are pictures of me with Martin's previously mentioned friend.

So I rush home, and we get straight on my laptop, I'm almost in tears by this point. So this 'website' does indeed have pictures of me. We go through all the archives and theres loads! However, I'm thrilled to discover that many contain my friends looking unfortunately like this. But I am horrified to discover many, many, of my exs/dates are there as well! I actually can't believe that they're all there. On one website. They are old-boyfriend photos you can't rip up as they are captured in cyberspace forever!

So I'm debating putting them up here, as they are hilarious, but I look wasted, and I don't want anyone to see me wasted. But I feel you should feel my pain by seeing just how many exs they could get on one website. Its scary. And my friends look like Courtney Love!

Oh, and I found one of fittie James, except he doesn't look so fit in the photo. And he found me playing barrier (see below) and I was drunk. It was only 8pm. So I think I've blown my chances there...

Barrier

2005-03-10T05:15:00.000Z

barrier,
This is Barrier....

I'm getting pissed!!

2005-03-09T12:10:00.000Z

Ok, I have just arranged an all-dayer with my friend Clare. For those of you not in the know, an all-dayer begins when our local opens and ends when you fall over doing karaoke (My karaoke song, by the way, is '9 to 5' by Dolly Parton. I harbour a secret love for Dolly). Clare is planning to get wasted by 6, and we're starting at 2. Four hours is a very short space of time in which to get wasted.

I 'fessed up that I haven't been drunk for some weeks now, and apparantly this is completely unaccpetable, so we are getting wasted to celebrate my virus (don't ask). We've decided to bring back all the old drinking games- barrier, hedge hopping, steal-a-sign, and the infamous 'what is the most random object you can find in 5 mins?'. Last time in played these games was in freshers week and I got arrested, but that's a story for another day.

So me, Clare, and god knows who else, are getting hammered tonight. So I apologise in advance for any criminal damage to your blog and any offence I might cause. I like to piss off my friends on msn when I'm drunk, so you can be sure I'll be about. In return I'll take lots of funny pics and post them later. K?

Bad dates- part 2- The Gangster

2005-03-09T11:56:00.000Z

My friend Rach has a theory that there is nothing that cannot be cured by a B.M.W (are we all clear what that stands for? Its not a car...) and a night of booty shaking at rehab/media (depends which city I'm in). Personally, I don't think this is the case, but one night I was bit down so Rach packed me off to Rehab. I should point out here that many a scary man has been pulled in Rehab before, by all of us. Rehab is the local dancehall/hip hop club, and it's ok, quite posh really, but Rach fancies the DJ so we have to go quite a lot.

So on this particular night I decide to drive, so I park my car down some dodgy back alley, as usual, and head on up with Rach. Actually, one good thing bout Rehab is that most guys in there are wicked dancers. So we're dancing away, and this one guy gives me a look. It's so dark in there, so I can't see him, but I think he's nice (this always gets me in trouble!) so I smile.

Later on, we leave, and as we go this car pulls and I see Rach perk up as the guys inside offer opportunities for B.M.W related fun. So the guy driving was the one checking me out and he asks my number, and he's cute so I give it him, and Rach gives his friends (yes friends plural, not a typo) her number. The conversation here is interesting. He tells me his name 'Darnell' he says, and I'm like 'Oh Donnell, as in Donnell Jones? I love that song he does...' and he's like 'DARNELL thicko!'. And I get the message.

This is some weeks after I was traumatised by Little Man, so I figured one little date wouldn't hurt (I had not learnt my lesson at all...) So we organise a double date with Rach and one of his mates. However he turns up, sans his mate and insists on coming up to my flat. I was a little wary of how he dressed. He was blinged up to the max, even gold teeth. So he comes into my kitchen and the following conversation ensues:

Gangster- So this is a nice place you got.
V- Yeah, but rent is a lot.
G- So how much is that telly worth then?
V-Well that belongs to L....
G- Oh wicked right. So like, you go to Rehab much?
V- Yeah, Rach loves it.
G- Yeah I seen ya around.
V- Oh dear, so did you find your way here okay?
G- Yeah it's not far.
V- Where is it you live?
G- Roundhay.

(Roundhay is a proper ghetto. Where I live is pretty rough, but Roundhay is nasty...)

V- Roundhay? Past Meanwood?
G- Yeah, you know it?
V- No. So you live with your family?
G- Yeah my mum and my brothers and sisters.
V- Sweet, how many have you got?
G- Oh I dunno really, around 15, know what I mean?
V- Not really.

Later on we go into my room and I discover the following information: he has 'Thug life' tattooed 2pac style across his stomach, along with other assorted tattoos. He does 'Oh, you know' for a living' and the conversation then goes onto how much he loves weed.

So I manage to get him to piss off, finally. I don't have plans to become his ho, or anyone's ho for that matter. Rach practically fell out of her door when I came back. 'Did you shag him?' she asks. 'No', I reply, 'He's a fucking gangster Rach, he has gold teeth for christs sake!'. 'Not even a snog?'. She is angry at me for wasting perfectly good B.M.W. And yeah, he was fit, but he accessorised better than me, and came from Roundhay-gangster capital!

He kept ringing me and texting me, saying he wanted to 'Show me his skills' (which means only one thing in UK) and Rach ended up having ALL his friends. However, I cannot date a self-proclaimed pimp who wants a piece, with the option of sharing me with his friends.

And thus ends the tale of The Gangster!

Bad dates- part 1- Little Man

2005-03-08T19:03:00.000Z

My worst date ever, by a long way, was Little Man.

The day I met him, my friend had just come up to see me and we were having a great time round all the bars in the city. It was inbetween Christmas and New Year, and I was working, and so wasn't at home, I was still in my flat. We went into a cocktail bar I know well from many stage society socials, called Mononi.

So, we go into the bar and the barman starts chatting me up. We seem to have a lot in common, his parents are from Spain, and his hometown is very near mine. So we order drinks and food, and he keeps talking to me. I'm thinking, he's ok, could be cute, but I figured I'd keep talking. (I should point out I had been drinking all day). So he tells me his shift finishes soon, and I point out I'm here with my friend, but he sits with us anyway. At this point alarm bells should have been ringing, as he tells me he likes house music. It gets worse. He tells me he wishes my friend would go away. By this point I was so drunk I couldn't hear. So somehow, he gets my number off my phone while I'm in the toilet.

Yes I know you'll be thinking I'm insane, but when you're that drunk, you just don't care. So Little Man attempts to invite himself on our night out, and I'm like NO. So I tell him we can meet up the next day before I start work (why did I do this? Why?).

So the next day I wake up with a cracking hangover. Me and my friend having spent that night getting wasted on cocktails. I get a text on my phone, informing me I am to meet this guy at 12 for lunch. My friend can't remember what he looks like, neither can I but we figure I should go anyway. Foolish girls that we are...

So, I arrive outside Wokmania to meet him. I'm early, so I hang around. Then I spot this kid in front of me and I think he might be lost so I ask if he's okay. The kid replies 'V?'. Yes he was tiny. I am only 5'3" so normally I don't struggle to find a man tall enough, but I can see over his head and I'm wearing flats. I cannot escape so I just find a smile in me and just go with it.

We get inside Wokmania and I can't help but notice he's kinda chubby and SO SMALL. It dawns on me that at no point the night before had either of us been standing at the same time. And I was wankered. So this date is truly awful. He's rude to the waitress, and he informs me he wishes to buy a pair of cowboy boots. With heels. I begin to panic, I get that sick feeling in my stomach, so I figure I have to escape. So I 'suddenly' remember I have to start work early.

He walks me to work, and I really cannot get over how mini he is. Outside work he asks 'So do I get a kiss then' I reply 'No!' and run away, literally. Now you would hope that would be the last of him, but there is a funny twist to this story.

Some weeks later me and my friend Sophie are chatting on msn. The conversation was so funny that we saved it, so for your entertainment I will copy it here if my computer will let me...

sophiaaaa says: i met a guy called j___ on thirsday night
V says: i went on a date with a guy called j___!!!!! is he really small?
sophiaaaa says: YES!!!!
sophiaaaa says: oh my god!!!
V says: omg the same 1!!!!!!
V says: from derby?
sophiaaaa says: there cant be more than one j___!
sophiaaaa says: actually i dont know where he was from
sophiaaaa says: could quite poss have been derby tho
V says: was he dark haired with a little beard
sophiaaaa says: yeeeeah
V says: noooooooooooo
sophiaaaa says: does biology second year?
V says: ESCAPE NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
sophiaaaa says: LOL!!!!!!!!!!!
sophiaaaa says: oh my god is it def the same one???????
V says: hes the infamous little man
sophiaaaa says: lol
sophiaaaa says: he wore like a red beany hat?
V says:yesssssssssss
V says: hes the scariest thing, plz dnt eva talk 2 him
sophiaaaa says: really? i thiuhgt he seemed so nice!!!
sophiaaaa says: he was a really good pull tho!
V says: how so?
V says: did u kiss him???!??!?!?!?!
sophiaaaa says: YES!!!!!!!
sophiaaaa says: I was sooo drunk
V says: NO!!
sophiaaaa says: I WOKE UP WITH A LOVE BITE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, he texts me like a month later, asking if he can see me again, and I text on on Sophie's phone, saying 'NO!!! u r small, please find someone your own size. ie, not me or sophie!'

Thus ends the tale of Little Man.

Where have all the good men gone?

2005-03-08T00:56:00.000Z

I just posted my words here, so now you will hopefuly understand me.

I feel awful today, I just woke up from a 13 hr sleep. Virus is back with a vengance. Also, was meant to go on date with the jew tonight, but when I check my phone is there a text? an answerphone message? Hell no! He obviously doesn't give a toss (literally) whether I live or die. I'm in bed, feeling like I've just been knocked out and he can't even be arsed to send me a bloody text to ask of I'm okay. He's a total asshat. To make the situation worse, as I was checking my phone, that bloody song 'I need a hero' came on (I had my mp3 player on random). I was going to have a Bridget Jones moment, you know, the opening credits of the film, where she's pissed, in her pyjamas, singing to 'All By Myself'.

Unfortunately I don't have any alcohol, and I don't think my flatmates would appreciate me whimpering 'Where have all the good men gone?'. But seriously, where the fuck are they? There are 40, 000 students in this uni, so without all the women, old people, idiots, and ugly people, I figure that leaves me about 10,000 men. There's nothing wrong with me so why can't I pull?

Actually, I need to rephrase that. Anyone can pull. There's always a steady supply of wholy unsuitable men who seem to think it's perfectly acceptable for them to attempt to pull fit girls. (This is how I managed to get on a date with a little man and gangster, if you want to hear more about them let me know). But my point is, of all the potential 12,000 men, surely I can get one of them? I'm so fucked off! If I can't pull men now, what will it be like when I'm older? I'm going to turn into Bridget Jones.

I'm starting to think I am hideous and completely undateable. I must have an undateable chromosone.

Where is the summer?

2005-03-07T10:30:00.000Z

I keep getting asked what the hell I'm on about all the time so I'm going to start a list of English words on my other blog later on so you will all know how to use words like tosser and mardy. (Dan I expect you to know what those mean!) It would appear we are not speaking the same language at all, so let me know when you don't understand a word and I will explain.

This weekend was quite nice really, home better than usual. The tv broke, and I almost started to cry, but we sorted it and I got to do a bit of mtv catch up. I went to see my best friend last night. She's a bit temperamental, she is very into her boyfriend, but we always just pick up where we left off and that's what I love about her. We had a notorious holiday when we were 17, our first holiday without parents, and that's what we were talking about last night. Her boyfriend says he'll dump her if she comes away with me and Rach this summer, (this should give you some indication of what we are like on holiday), but we're planning on going around Europe and she really wants to come. It was so nice to see her again. We're going to Manchester next Sunday to look at her uni accomodation, and I plan to get her in lots of trouble...

My mum and her boyfriend were talking about their wills last night, was a bit weird. Boyfriend told me he's leaving all his money to his daughter, and, get this, his toy rabbit. Not only does the man have stuffed toys, he intends to leave them money. I have nothing else to say about that.

Despite it being mother's day yesterday, I receieved the following: £20 petrol money, £20'treat' money (which will unfortunately have to go on food), and for my computer: a memory stick, and a tiny mouse (freebies from Mum's company) and a multi way socket adaptor meaning I will never again go abroad and have bad hair from lack of a hair dryer!

I'm quite shocked at the weather today. It's dead cold, but really sunny so you could pretend it's summer if you didn't go outside. I was in the car this morning and that song off The OC came on the radio and I got all happy, and then foolishly opened the window and got a harsh reminder that I am not, in fact, in California, I am in Yorkshire. Possibly the most un-hot and unglamourous place in the world, (apart from Scotland, which is The Worst Place Ever). Where is the summer? I know it's only March but it's pissing cold and I'm sick of it. I kept telling my Mum it would be a great idea to go see The Boyfriend's family on Spain this easter, for a freebie holiday. But she's not keen. They're complete nutcases, and even my Mum's freaked by them. So if anyone lives somewhere hot, preferably with a beach, and would like to give me a freebie holiday, get in touch!

Home.

2005-03-06T08:08:00.000Z

How annoying is everyone else that drives? I went home on the M1 instead of the A1 last night, and I was shocked by the amount of tossers on the road. Like people who have really nice fast cars, who choose to drive at silly mph. It's wasted on them! My car has a tiny engine, and yet it'll easy do 100, but I overtook so many big cars that were just getting in everyones way. I hate it.

One good point, however, was last night's radio. Hallam fm had the best songs, they played a load from Dirty Dancing, then The Killers, then Madonna, then Chic, then Beyonce, and loads more, it was dead good. I'm all the other drivers were laughing at me trying to dance in my car.

What else? I've eaten so much food, I think my Mum's quite shocked. She buys dead nice food though, from Sainsburys, like smoked salmon, and muffins, and smoothies. Haven't seen much of the boyfriend, but I got here late last night so I imagine he'll make an apperance later on.

Am really hating this computer. All the colours look different. The pink on my blog looks horrible, bit too orangey, and everyone else's blog looks yucky as well. Hate the keyboard, cuz I'm used to my laptop this is dead noisy and clumsy. The computer broke and managed to delete all my links on my blog and stuff so had to mess around with that, very annoying. Does nothing work outside cities?

I'm going to my local with my mate for a drink later. This is the worst part about being home, cuz everyone's in there being bitchy about exam results, or about how there are two types of people- those who have been to India and those who haven't. Someone actually said that to me at Christmas-it's scary how pretentious some gap year students are. Then there's the inevitable hiding behind your drink to avoid ex boyfs.

God, I've not been home for 12 hours and I'm already bitching, and The Boyfriend isn't even awake yet! I need to do catch up on mtv, so will be back with stories about Bollywood's next big thing tonight.

Merde!

2005-03-05T08:00:00.000Z

Things I don't want to experience before 8am:
1. The evil in the kitchen making a fry-up in his boxers. He doesn't seem to have washed recently, I'm suprised L doesn't have fleas/herpes/rabies from sleeping with him.
2. CMF rapping to Snoop Dogg. Remember, she doesn't speak English. It sounds like a toothless Snoop has a mouthful of bees.
3. This picture in my magazine. In my magazine, the picture showed the dress had, ahem, opened up somewhat so we could all see her vagina. How nice. But, I mean, really? Do I need to see the intimate workings of her reproductive system before I've eaten my cereal? Does this woman not own a pair of pants?
I cannot decide which of these three things is the most repulsive. What a skankfest.

I'm going home later, as it's Mother's Day on Sunday (and I need a good meal) so I will have lots of dirt on the Boyfriend, who no doubt will have found new and innovative ways to annoy me. I bet he's waiting with a new batch of bollywood films and some catchy new dance moves.

Joe and Pete saved me from the cheerleaders last night. 'Bring It On' is waiting forlornly on my desk for another lonely Friday night. My friend at home tells me she has her copy of Crossroads back from her sister, and do I want to come over and watch it? What could be better than watching Britney 'act' her way through this piece of pure girly trash. I can't wait.

Your last chance to save me from cheerleader hell...

2005-03-04T23:21:00.000Z

I am bored verging on suicidal. It is friday night and am I on a hot date? No. Am I getting on with work? No. Have my friends come round with chicken soup to make me feel better? Hell no. I have spent today doing f.a. I think it may be time for a film, my friend brought me Bring It On 1 and 2 and I almost wept with joy, pure cheerleading trash to provide hours of entertainment.

Oh, I've totally jumped on the bandwagon of lists, it's the last link, so go and find out all about me, especially Joe who knows nothing at all. God I'm so bored! Anyone wanna help me pass the time before I succumb to Kirsten Dunst and friends?

my eye

2005-03-04T16:00:00.000Z

my eye

Thanks Elle!

So here is the scary eye. Do I look too shiny.....?

Giant eye, anyone??

2005-03-04T07:10:00.000Z

I should not be allowed to own a webcam. I was messing around with Rach on msn last night, we were taking photos of really obscure stuff. I accidently put a giant picture of my eye as my desktop background and then frightened myself when I closed all my windows. I would put it on here but god knows how, I've got that hello thing but it never lets me log in. If anyone wants to experience my steely glaze and other random objects in my room, let me know and I could email it to you. Is that weird? I think it is. I shouldn't offer randoms photos of my eye, what am I thinking?! Perhaps I should email it to Lydia of purple (who I will mention in every blog!)Should I email her a pic of my underwear drawer and ask her to save me by sending some apple-catchers? That is quite odd. Okay I'm going to stop now.

What else? I appear to be spreading my filthy interpretation of the English language all over America, it's really weird. I have brought you 'fittie', and on Branshine's blog (I've linked her somewhere down there, go say hi) I brought great excitement by using the word 'tosser', a word which I have used for many years now to describe my brother, my Dad and other males who like to cause me grief.

Speaking of tossers, the Jew (you can read about him in earlier posts, I can't be arsed to link them all) has been fervently texting, date on Monday night he thinks. I'm quite looking forward to it, have not spoken properly to anyone for days cuz I've got the lergy, and he's quite yum. Although he can be a bit of a knobsack at times (there's another new word for you...).

I'm experiencing extreme disdain towards CMF who will not stop with the early morning gangsta rap! I made some bread last night and I could see her eyeing it up, thinking what she could eat it with. She would not leave the kitchen, so I couldn't hide it and ended up keeping it in my room.

I don't really have a lot to say today, am feeling a bit meurgh. I can hear the rain/snow/shit outside and it is not a happy sound. Ick. Have been amusing myself with googling Mr GB (see below) and fiddling about with my template (did you notice?). Okay, I'll be back later when I something useful to say.

And this is what I mean by fit...

2005-03-03T17:35:00.000Z

Hey! Gael Garcia Bernal, so, er.... hows it going?
Hmmm, thats not the greatest pic of you, is it? Doesn't really show how cute you are, not that I'm looking at your face there to be honest.... This ones better. Can I call you Gael?

Now you are all sorts of fine and if there is any sense of right in this world I should be Mrs GB. We're so alike, I'm also Latin American, and we can pretend my British father doesn't exist if you like. My Mum would be chuffed if I married a fellow Latino. I've inherited her body, if you know what I mean and I think you do. I can shake it with the best of them down at the local dancehall club. No? Well, you're an actor and I've been in a few school plays. I've got all your films. Even the one where you're dressed as a woman and the one where you have sex with a guy.

Well I'll leave you to think about it, I can always hang with Lydia of Purple if you don't wanna make Latin babies with me. Ok then, thanks for your time. Kisses......