localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
It’s been a pretty hard week for numerous reasons, but mostly focussed around those two joint difficulties: Stress and Worry. I am a worrier. I have always been a worrier. I worry. So when there are things to worry about at home (the house a mess, a to-do-list longer than my arm, haven’t booked a holiday, dog not well, family disputes and spats, worrying about family members who aren’t getting in touch) and things to worry about at work (big projects, much pressure massive deadlines, university term starts soon, to do list longer than my arm, going on leave soon, need to prepare) and in my social life (promised to meet up but can’t commit to a date, on stage in under a week’s time, haven’t got all the flipping props yet) it all kind of buries me under it all and I get headaches, my sinus problems get me down, and I generally end up eating too many biscuits and not getting enough sleep because I am staying up late reading fanfiction on my phone (which also doesn’t help the headaches).

This morning though, I somehow managed the first seven hours sleep I’ve had in a while and when I woke up I started singing Hoobastank’s Crawling in the Dark. I mean, loudly, without thinking about who might be listening. It is a song I head as a teenager (on a Kerrang CD that I still own) and really liked- so much so I did the thing hovering over the pause button to write down the lyrics (ah, those pre-google, pre-broadband days…) and I think how often I forget what a rush you can get from singing, the way just opening your lungs and going for it helps levels out any moods. It is a terrific, wonderful stress relief but one which often deserts my brain when I most need it- in a way that readingfanfictionallthroughthenightohgod never does (also books but books have an ending wheras there is always more fic to be had- even if it isn’t very good!)

So I sang Crawling in the Dark and then Jack off Jill’s Vivica and felt much better. I also realised that I come across new songs and learn songs just for fun much more rarely than I used to- most songs I learn now tend to be ones for shows that I’ve been told to learn- and because of the type of music my group normally does they’ll never ask me to learn something I enjoy like Green Day, JoJ, The Regrettes and so on. The exception for me lately has really only been Against Me! ‘s True Trans Soul Rebel and Trans Dysphoria Blues.

I haven’t been writing for fun or for anything but for work in ages, apart from the odd letter. I haven’t been drawing for fun (I am a terrible artist but once upon a time I didn’t let that stop me in private). I haven’t often listened to music I like just for the pleasure of it or sang to an invisible audience safe in the knowledge that no one is watching or cares if I forget a word or my voice cracks.

I need to find ways to allow myself to enjoy these things again, and thus cope with all the stress and worry.

The only problem? There already doesn’t seem to be enough time in the day as it is.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
It's been a really shitty kind of week this week. That is a poor choice of words right there, sorry. But BASICALLY I've been REALLY ILL all week. It started at about 4AM on Tuesday morning and Mum came down at the same time which led us to believe food poisoning but other people have had a remarkably similar D&V bug lately so the jury is still out. I actually think I have been more ill this time than the time a few years ago when I had the Norovirus.

I'm trying not to overshare, because when I am ill I kind of want to and it is just awkward because I will undoubtedly regret it. So I'm just going to say I HAVE BEEN REALLY ILL and it has been TERRIBLE.

In ADDITION to that, my darling puppy-dog, my little ginger slug, my old tigger, my reading-and-cuddles companion for over twelve years had to go to be put to sleep on Wednesday. It had been a bit...ominous for a while. My Ferny had a cough, which put extra pressure on her dicky heart because there was fluid build up but after the vet upped her last lot of medication she perked up again. But the weather has been getting colder the past few weeks and then on Monday night we were walking and she just stopped. She didn't fall, but she knew she didn't feel safe walking so Auntie I had to carry her home and although she was pottering around again the next day it was really the last sign.

I can't even begin to think how much I am going to miss her yet. She has been as much my dog as my Auntie's really, when you tot up all our time together.

I am currently dealing with this by denial. Because apart from one small breakdown on the evening after it happened, I have been too ill (and because of ill therefore headachey, dehydrated and not eating anything) to actually deal with life properly. So instead I have indulged a newly formed obsession that started a week ago when I read a fanfic Avengers AU in which Steve and Bucky are internet vloggers. And so I looked up some well known vloggers to try and understand this more and got hooked on danisnotonfire and Amazing Phil. So I spend three days watching their danandphilgames TheSims series whilst sipping water and ignoring the real world.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
So I can't remember if I've mentioned but my library job has been on shaky ground for a while. We are very lucky in our area that our council are planning on keeping all libraries open, but we did have the weekend hours cut a couple of years ago (thirding my pay) and they've just finished another consultation and begun to send staff letters. The new opening hours are actually quite reasonable, although the Saturday's won't open till 10 which as a morning person myself I would not enjoy at all as a user. But, and the writing has been on a wall since the consultation started, their plans did not seem to include any Saturday-only posts. So the three of us who work Saturdays but have jobs in the week all could kind of see where things were going.

And I got my letter today formally informing me that my post is being 'deleted' and I am 'at risk' of redundancy- I am welcome to apply for any of the other library posts but to do any of them I would not only not be able to do my weekday job (so swapping a full time, permanent contract job for a part time-less money post) but also in doing so, should I be successful I would be robbing one of my co-workers of a post which might be their only source of income.

So yes. None of us will be doing that one.

At present it looks like I will finish on 11th April (which is, incidentally, my Saturday to be in so I will actually work my last day unless I have some leave hours to book it off). I will miss it. I love my little library Saturdays- love the people, the conversation, the books. At least I'll still have the books.

Between that and St Raphael's closing (just a few weeks to go now), plus everything horrible that has happened the past couple of years I'm feeling a bit wobbly. I don't like all this change and I especially don't like so many endings of things. WHY DO THINGS HAVE TO CHANGE WHY CAN'T EVERYTHING JUST BE THE SAME FOREVER THE WAY I LIKE IT
localfreak: Willo the Wisp (Willo the Wisp)
So far I have decided to postpone any notions of 'new year, new starts/resolutions etc'. The reasons for this are:

1. I have a TERRIBLE TERRIBLE COLD. I have not felt so disgustingly ill for a good while and I am filled to the brim with what can only be described as 'ick'. I can't taste anything anymore, can't breathe through my nose, and look pale and ghastly.

2. On New Year's Eve Nanny was admitted to hospital. She'd been complaining of indigestion for a couple of days which we now think was something with her heart so Auntie Irene took her the doctors that morning and they were whisked off to hospital. Now, she is certainly well enough that she is awake and grousing about the hospital food ("I couldn't eat the chicken so saved it for it to be taken for the dogs," she said, "They didn't give you any salt!" Well...no, Nan, it's a cardiac ward) but obviously we are all tumbling over one another like puppies and I am not allowed to visit (see point 1.) so my duties are of the dog-watching, text-messaging variety.

So yes. I did have a couple of ideas for things I wanted to start fresh with for the new year (writing, life, etc) but I am putting them all on until Nanny is home and I can breathe through my nose again and taste food.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
Aaand cue pre-Christmas turmoil.

This morning I ended up going out with mum and we bought an excessively large number of oranges and some sultanas and took them home to make Christingles. I also, whilst mum was at church setting out the costumes, managed to wrap some of her presents on the sly so that was good.

We then put some Christmas music on and sat getting increasingly sticky from orange juice and threading nuts and sulatnas on cocktail sticks. This will be the last Christingle and Nativity Paegent at our church but I have to say, as depressing as the thought is, I will NOT MISS making bloody Christingles at all. I do hate getting my hands dirty.

In the meantime Auntie Maura and Uncle Paul were battling the plumbing at my Nanny's trying to install new things in the bathroom. Things went wrong, I understand, so the next thing I know I was called to walk the dog and have subsequently had several rows and conversations in which everyone told Nanny to come and stay with us for the night as she has no running water and she adamantly refused citing a thousand reasons and basically just refusing to be swayed. After trying telephone negotiations I gave her an hour (during which Mum got upset feeling like no one actually likes to visit us in our family and are we really so horrible that they wouldn't come and stay? and I got upset because I hate rows and stubborness and the pressure was on now that all my Aunties and Uncles were expecting me to enforce what they had decreed, which I knew that if Nanny was being stubborn there wasn't anything I could really do and so I mostly made tea and cried in the kitchen). I then went round to try a face to face debate including using the "I know you'll be fine but please would you just do this for me and my sake because none of my Aunties will ever speak to me again if you don't comply they'll all blame me and hate me forever?" tack to no avail and I was forced into a retreat.

Tomorrow will be: Mass in the morning, followed by making a quick dinner for Nanny and anyone else who is around, iron the costumes, set up the church, check the music and then NATIVITY PAEGENT. It is lovely but it is increasingly stressful as I don't even know if our usual Wardrobe Mistress will be coming and so it might just be me and Mum and I do a lot of the setting up these days, including compering, ushering, booklets, music and sound tech etc but I really REALLY don't to getting the kids into their costumes. I leave that to those more talented than I.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
It is a true fact in life that whenever I start to seem remotely adult and confident either something looms on the horizon to make me a gibbering stress-wreck hiding my whitening hair under a rather Drop-Dead-Fred dye job (it was called 'Ultra-Violet' but came out a lot more Gryffindor-at-Night) or I managed to make a total and utter wet fool of myself and get caught blubbing like a baby and needing to be comforted.

Or both. Mostly both, let's be real. So there's a big conference in work I am nightmaring about until it happens on Monday after which I intend to get on with the business of Advent in a way my poor wobbling brain simply can't cope with until it is over. And my goal for the next month will be not to be in the room when people debate/discuss/argue anything- and certainly not contribute EVEN IF I FEEL THAT SOMEONE IS WRONG because all that happens is I argue my point as sanely as I can manage, walk out, and burst into toddler-choking sobs and frighten the horses- or, in this case, the workmen who came to the window to tell me they'd managed to fix the pipe.

Twenty-fucking-eight years old and I still can't behave like a fucking adult.

The way I react to argument/debate/whatever you want to call it is so totally out of proportion that I'm sure a casual onlooker would assume some terrible dark things in my childhood- of which, of course, there is nothing. I have always been thus. If I hear a man and a woman shouting at one another in the street I hunker down as if shots will be fired and feel sick and shaking. When Question Time comes on the radio I have to leave the room and nothing sends me so swiftly to bed like the political debates of Newsnight following the 10 o'clock news.

Anyway. Enough.

Went a bit mad online on the Christmas present front fuelled by a worried concern that there are still people I didn't have anything- or enough- for, and that some of said people are those who require more organisation because their presents need to be posted/delivered. Of course now I am stuck waiting for parcels and there is still a possibility that part of one present will not arrive in time for posting but at least I've tried.

I must confess I went a bit mad for myself- said online shop had all of Hilary Green's Follies series as part of a book offer- but even without the offer, were selling them for £2 each as opposed to other shops' £5.99 each. So I may have bought myself a Christmas present. Hee hee.

I've got Mum's big present hidden away at Nanny's but I have a plan for a little something for Christmas morning if only I can concoct some believable way of getting out and buying the damn things! But, as said RE Conference, until I have survived that higher brainpower is lacking for various reasons- the stress of 95 delegates who need organising, feeding, watering, presentations loading, tables re-arranging etc etc etc, but also the conf. is on a topic that is incredibly upsetting in its own right- to me personally- and so checking all the content is really not helping my wobbly brain.

Reading Stephen Fry's More Fool Me very good so far, am hoping to get it finished before Saturday as I'm in the library then. I still have three more books out to get through- including the new Anne Rice- although I had to send the new Ben Elton back unread as I didn't get round to it. Did read Sheila Hancock's Miss Carter's War which I requested partially for the interesting blurb but also for the amusement factor that somehow no editor had thought writing about a post-war experience of a woman called Marguerite Carter who had worked for the secret service during the war 'Where have I heard that name before?' Obviously demonstrating the whole comics and recent film sensations have passed by some corners of the country (*cough* PEGGY CARTER *cough cough cough*. But the book- it wasn't like that at all. I COULDN'T STOP CRYING. I learnt so much about the social and cultural understanding and impacts of the war in Britain on people and their lives but it is most certainly not a read in the vein of the aforementioned Hilary Green's books. Miss Carter's War BREAKS MY HEART AND STOMPS ON IT IN A MISANTHROPIC FOREVER.

So: good book.
localfreak: (carryon)
I have been away for a week at The Retreat Oop North working on my dissertation for a few days. It was really lovely to be away from the usual noise and the immense amount of stress that life is conspiring to throw at me. This time next week I will be very near to the edge of a nervous exhausted breakdown. I just have to keep reminding myself that this time the week after next the student exams, in all their hellishness, will be over whether we manage to get everything sorted or not. (And not is not actually an option).

I came back on Friday and my little slightly-less-manic cloud lost all its lightness almost immediately. We have now found out one of my Uncles has been diagnosed with cancer and he is due to go under the knife in a few week's time. Hopefully it has been caught early enough that the surgeon (who, yes, I do actually know who he is though not well) can basically just scoop the bad cells out and it will be relatively sortable but it is...well it's all rather awful and worrying. Nanny is very worried and upset even though she isn't talking much about it I know. Her dad (who was technically her granddad) died of cancer, although by mum's calculations he was probably in his 70s at the time and my Uncle is only in his 50s and youknow, has led a much healthier lifestyle generally than a man who lost an arm to a spear in the Boer war...

So yes. That was a thing. Then on Sunday Mass was incredibly stressful with me any one of my other servers having to pick the hymns and put them out AND start them less than five minutes before we were due to start and then of course I went back to work yesterday and was all whydoieverhaveleaveohtheressomuchtodoandneverenoughourstodoitinandohnoestheworldisendingskyfallingaaaa

So yes, life is being a little crazy but whilst I'd rather like to stop the ride and get off right now unfortunately that isn't possible so I'm basically just going to cling on and pray to get through the next couple of weeks without EVEN MORE white hairs sprouting in my barnet. (And yes, WHITE HAIRS have been appearing. I have brown hair it is really noticeable and it's SO UNFAIR I'm not even thirty yet *cries* )

I did actually turn the laptop on to do something. I distinctly remember, whilst driving home (listening to Mozart playing top volume on my stereo :) hee hee) thinking that I must log onto the laptop to do a job because I couldn't do it on the tablet.

But I've forgotten what it was.

First the white hairs, then the senility. Hand me my walker will you dear and I'll just sit back in this wicker chair and put a blanket over my knees...
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
My dear internet,

I am writing to you now, sad and sick at heart, to make one thing totally clear:

This morning, I am ashamed of my country.

For those who don't know, the European election results came in last night and have revealed that there are far more fascists in the country that I ever would've thought, or else idiots duped by the revolting rhetoric of both the Tories and UKIP themselves, seduced by ideas of "British bulldog" spirit into voting for racists, homophobes and bigots. I thought, after the lib dems changed their colours to blue to get in with Dave and the rest of their rich Tory mates at the last general election that britain was bad enough off but this just goes to show it can always get worse. I am of course especially horrified at the behaviour of people I went to school with in voting for a party that so vociferously advocates sending "them back where they came from"; I attended a Catholic school in England in a town built on welsh, Scottish, Polish and Irish immigration and industry.

I apologise, to everywhere, for my country's abhorrent idiocy.

I am so very ashamed.

Your localfreak


May. 2nd, 2014 07:06 pm
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
This time last year was a flurry of excitable activity. Buying the house, waiting to hear the offer was accepted, booking the caravan, scanning in pictures of Nanny to make the giant poster and so we could blow up a photo of her face for one of my Uncles to attach to a life-sized cardboard cut-out of the Queen.

I can still remember her face when she realised we were all there, when Zoe, pregnant with Violet and enormous with it wobbled out of The Retreat doors with the most causal 'Hallo Nan,' you ever heard. It was one of the first times I'd ever seen Nanny speechless, and in tears. We thought for sure she had tumbled us, trying to keep a secret among so many people, mee-mawing arrangements every time she stepped out of the room.

A year later and I have seen Nanny speechless and crying so many times since, but her tears have been of grief rather than suprise and love. Her Birthday Party was the last time most of us saw our kid alive. We went for a walk around the camp-site for some air and I chatted about his exams and school and, stupid inconsequential things. I didn't ask him how he was doing. I didn't hug him close. Too tall and bony and gangly and teenagery for me to do that and we are not, generally, a family give over to excessive displays. I probably talked to his parents too, I can't remember what I said to his Mum. I wish I could. I wish I could remember every conversation we ever had, crystal clear. I wish I could remember more than childhood snatches and pieces- the smell of strawberry lip-balm in her bedroom when she was still in her late teens/early twenties and I was a toddler-pretending-to-be-a-dog. Her fear of snails. Asking her, when she was pregnant, what it was like; realising her shape had changed with pregnancy; worrying about this baby, this boyfriend who would mean she wouldn't be nearby anymore all the time. I think about things - genealogy, photography-repair, cleaning, things that she was always doing or talking about and wonder about her papers and wish, wish, I'd had time to go through them with her. She brought me the family tree work she'd been doing to show me once but Bean...he always wanted me to come and play, not sit with his parents and the grown-ups.

Not a day goes by that I do not censor my thoughts to my colleagues because a casual mention of them makes the others uncomfortable. Sometimes, I catch my reflection in the mirror and I see him. I worry that my hair reminds the others of his, in colour, or hers, in the excessive amount of work it takes to defy laws of gravity. I worry I remind the others of them too much.

Next week is Nanny's 81st. I'm afraid it cannot be as joyful as we were a year before. I don't know if we, as a family, can ever have that back.
localfreak: (Mr Toad in Rehearsals Cosgrove Hall)

A couple of weeks ago I read this book. It is one my mother owns that had somehow been shuffled to the top of a pile in the move, rather than being hidden between books about chemical injuries and respiratory hazards in the workplace. I didn't really want to read it: my affinity for Wind in the Willows is well-known and I dislike using them as allegory. As a child any book that contained a character called 'Toad' 'Mole' 'Rat' or 'Mr Badger' automatically became the Toad/Mole/Rat/Badger (which of course it one of the many reasons why Badger's Parting Gifts is the most traumatising book ever).

I couldn't put this book down. It's an allegory written for psychology students and as a story doesn't always work out- there are plotlines which are left unfleshed and era/timeline issues that don't quite follow (including reference to 'pets' which were problematic) but still I couldn't. I read it, then read the ending chapters again, then read the whole thing again all in one day.

I don't know how much I have got out of it. But I am trying to acknowledge now that my already vaguely neurotic tendencies have been quietly going haywire pretty much since our kid died last year. Cooking, something I enjoy doing, has become stressful as I somehow become incapable of getting on with things without consistently asking questions- suddenly I will find myself unable to remember whether I should salt the pan for peas or how best to chop peppers or how long to roast a tray of vegetables. Another book I picked up encouraged me to examine my anxious behaviours by writing down my thought process every time something overwhelmed me. I am honestly suprised how many times a day, a week, even on 'happy' events that my though processes end with 'I will disappoint everybody and they will think I am stupid and I don't want people to be cross with me'. I've never claimed not to be an anxious person, but I think with everything else I'm just making myself worse because of an inability to make the world be rational for me. I can't make things better or fix things so instead I flap about being impotent and then feeling unhappy because I can't fix things and people are upset and I'm rubbish.

I am as hot a mess as Tony Stark most days, and I don't even get to be Iron Man out of it!

But I'm trying to find out how to stop being a ridiculously anxious mess of stress and worry and stuff. I just haven't got it worked out properly yet.

And that book was good. It's just...haunting me a lot. A lot.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
Oh look at me, pretending to be all adult here. Yesterday I bought three new light fittings (I can't call them shades- the push towards Eco friendly lighting has led to a new fashion for coloured glass around one's bulbs to try and eke the best out of dimmer bulbs) and helped Mum put the sealant round the shower and attach hooks to the coat-hook board Nanny made. My credit card is tied up with the washing machine and tumble dryer- I'm expecting a call from the company within the next couple of weeks to arrange delivery date- and I've been in touch with an illustrator friend of mine with a view to making a small picture book for the baby for Christmas (I've written a poem for it). I've also booked a trip to the dentist on my day off, my first ever counselling session in a couple of weeks, and right now need to gather up some of my insurance paperwork to submit an application for writing my will, to make sure that should anything happen to me, Mum is all sorted. I just need my life insurance stuff unearthing and my work contract so I know how much I'm worth to that lot.

PRETENDING TO BE A GROWNUP IS A BIT ANNOYING REALLY. (Except for the book. My friend is going to discuss it with her Uni tutor first because I am asking for a relatively tight deadline so I'm hoping they'll let her use it as portfolio work or something because that would work for both of us quite well).

Amidst all this adult behaviour real life is generally not going too well. So I am being busy and trying so very hard to be helpful and useful to everyone and make people happy. I don't know it's possible to succeed but one keeps trying.

On a bit of a brighter note though we did go and see the RSC live broadcast of Richard II at the local pictures last week, Mum and I. It was great and Mum really enjoyed it too. Plan is to see more of these!
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
Today has not been a good day. Not for any obvious reasons, in fact we had a couple of nice happenings and visitors, but my stupid brain decided that today would be upsetting and do that stupid thing of going 'So, you're upset about things hey? You know what we should think about? EVERY HUMILIATING OR DEPRESSING THING THAT HAS HAPPENED TO YOU SINCE YOU WERE FIVE. Shall we go cronologically, or alphabetically? Remember when you lost your favourite toy in a bookshop? Remember when your best friend called you before high school started and said that they had better people to be friends with than you. Remember when you were given flowers by someone only because both their first and second choice people weren't there? And they said that to you? And you had to pretend not to be horrendously upset about it? Remember when people stood outside your door and talked about you as 'the one everyone hates'? Remember last Christmas eve when there was a terrible row? Or when Cliff died? Or how you don't even have a picture of him? And how old you're getting? And how rubbish you are? Remember...remember...remember..'

Stupid brain.

But anyway I'm not bathed, in my pyjamas and reading some of my favourite, uncomplicatedly adorable fanfiction and soon will make cocoa and go to bed. Tomorrow needs to be better, please.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
Nobody wants to admit it

but soon you’ll discover the truth

as soon as naivity quits you

and you lose the vestiges of youth.

Vogons are real and around us.

I’m sorry, I can’t tell a lie

and now that I’ve let slip the secret,

I’ll sit in the dark for a cry.

As soon as I’ve finished my weeping,

and re-fixed my maniac grin,

they’ll hand me a new stack of paper

and show me the forms to fill in.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
Absoultely done in this week, and it's only halfway through! Got home tonight to find a concerning letter from the council saying I owe them money, when I kind of have signed documentation from them previously stating I don't. I'm sure I'm right but it's just very worrisome. Mum is going to call them tomorrow for me as I'm in work and hopefully it can be all sorted out easily. I really don't fancy learning how to complain to the ombudsman, when I've only just learned that one exists for this kind of thing.

Anyway that's all messy and horrible. How is everyone?

Currently reading De Profundis and Other Prison Writings which I am enjoying much more this time 'round. I think it is mostly because I can read a page or two and then pause to ruminate on it, whereas last time there wasn't that kind of leisure.

Bits and pieces going on life wise, lots of my limited time being spent contemplating depressing things and tallying up my failures...and telling myself off for tallying up failures rather than doing something USEFUL to try and achieve something more successful.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
There is a film I like called David and Lisa - it is a made-for-TV film from 1998 which I believe is actually a remake of a film from the 60s of the same title, but I've never seen the original. I've only watched David and Lisa about twice, the first time on telly on one of those random summer days when I was a moody adolescent moping about the house and avoiding the sunshine, the second when I bought a bargain-bin DVD of it from TJHughes. But I like it. It is set in an institude for mentally ill teens and the main character, David, has an obsession with time that translates into disturbingly murderous nightmares and an absolute issue with clocks, with time continuing. He works himself into a froth in the film talking about how one day he will build The Biggest Best Clock In The World that will record time absolutely one-hundred-percent and forever and ever, every tiny nanosecond tracked by his eyes, translated into perpetual-motion clockwork.

It is sometimes a tad disturbing QUITE how much I could easily fall into a similar obsession with time. Nanny and I both have it, I can't EVER be late (in fact I'll be an hour early, or two, than be late, and the slightest thing that could put me Off Schedule will result in my nervous stomach being its usual helpful self ("oh, you're worried about something? I'm sure D&V will help this out!").

Today, however, unlike the poem from which I quoted for my subject line ( by Ralph Hodgson) I certainly don't want time to put up his caravan and stick around. I am so glad that today is ending. My mood has been vile, work has been clouded by a fog of my own bad mood and when I got home it was to find Mum has recieved a note advising her that her last interview was unsucessful and so she is an miserable mood to and I am made more hopeless by my absolute impotence- what the fuck can I say? This stupid country, this stupid economic climate, the stupid people for not picking her. I can make suggestions but it is a poor sop and I hate, hate it. And of course my own private rants all day fuzzling up my ears make things all the more dreadful, all the less clear.

Jesu, juva let something come along to lift off this fog. Let something good come.

The house, at least, progresses. I shall be going there tomorrow to be put to work which I can do provided I am given simple directions and left to things. I have many things to do.

Also have a poem on commision and still have not written it. Made doubly difficult because I know the recipient dislikes end-rhyme, which for entertainment purposes is my stock-in-trade. Hmm.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
I am being increasinlgy anti-social at the moment. This is because I am stressing about essays. When I'm not working on them I worry all the time feeling I should be working on them and when I'm working on one I'm panicking because of the other one. I really wish Uni had given me two separate deadlines. The same deadline for two essays is just utterly cruel.


Feb. 1st, 2013 09:09 pm
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
Ah, the Reception Desk. Back to the old lessons:

Lesson 121: That sweet, polite young man who always makes time to stop and talk with you? It's because he's been trying to work up the courage to get your prettier, non-queer, uncomplicatedly feminine, colleague's number.

Pause for a moment.

Take this philosophically. It's probably for the best.

It's been one helluva long week. Today was actually quite good in work but I'm just so, so tired. My next module starts on Monday so I need to spend more time doing the readings which are so far pretty okay. Sadly, the essay questions look ABSOLUTELY MINDNUMBINGLY BORING. But maybe I can work something out once I've got a little way into the course work.

Off for a trip to Liverpool tomorrow. That will be okay. And I really need to finish this Johnathan Coe book, the sooner I finish it the sooner I can ready something that isn't BOOKS TO DROWN IN YOUR OWN TEARS TO.
localfreak: (Avada Kedavra!)
I need to get some perspective I think. I signed up to nano whilst telling myself firmly it would have to be at the bottom of my priority list and, quite frankly, that there was a distinct possibility of failure. No plot, no problem is all very well but: Exhausted, Overwired, Going To Fall Over is somewhere more of a problem. I'm quite a bit behind now but I've actually attempted my readings for this week's lectures now which I think really is probably more important (read is a bit of a strong descriptor though, there truly is nothing more irritating than an author who keeps going "this is an interesting concept" "this is an interesting supposition" when actually it's so terribly, terribly dry that following the thread of the thing becomes nigh-impossible. I read about twenty-five pages and I think the only things that have stuck from the reading is there are some...structural theories about states, that there was a Chancellor called Bismarck who was fired by Kaiser Willhelm in 1890 and his successors led to WW1...somehow/somwhat. And that the 'domino effect' was fundamentally flawed because the natural movements of states leans more towards a 'checkerboard'. None of this, I fear, will help me answer this week's tasks which are:

To understand war as explained through an ‘international systems’ approach and the importance of human agency in the decision-making process.

To consider the nature and impact of The Great War – on society and the international community.


I have also written ONE WORD of Nano in the past 24 hours. ONE WORD. It does hurt...
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
To see the military in your dream signifies rigid authority and emotional repression. Perhaps you need to be more disciplined.

To dream that you are in court standing up for charges against you signifies your struggle with issues of fear and guilt. A situation or circumstance in your life is giving you much distress and worry. You feel that you are being judged in some way and need to defend yourself.

To dream that you are naked denotes fear of being found out and exposed over your activities. You feel that you are being misjudged.

To dream that you suddenly discover your nudity and are trying to cover up signifies your vulnerability to a situation.

To dream that you are shot or being shot at represents a form of self-punishment that you may be subconsciously imposing on yourself. You may have done something that you are ashamed of or are not proud of.

To see a stain in your dream symbolizes a superficial and reversible mistake in your life. Consider and analyze the substance, color and location of the stain. If you cannot remove the stain, then it represents guilt or your unwillingness to forgive and forget.

Freaky Dreams and Bodily Rebellions )
localfreak: (BAH!)

Mum and I were going to go the pictures this evening to see Ruby Sparks but when I got in she'd forgotten about it and had already started cooking tea. So I finished my Nationalism work instead and now my wrist is killing and my hands have lost most of their circulation (so forgive any excessive typos). I'm thinking we might go tomorrow or Friday and I was going to treat her to a meal. The only issue with going on Friday is that our meals are limited now that the Church has gone back to specifying the old Fish Rule. There is a Frankie and Bennys, A Carvery and a Nandos near to the pictures - I haven't been in either Frankie and Bennys or a Nandos but I thoroughly expect a great deal of meat-based items on the menu.

I wanted to treat her because Parish Politics went mental in the last couple of weeks and she is now giving up volunteeing and doing the Newsletter and the Mass Intention Lists and everything. I'm not going to go into huge amounts of detail why because it is long, complicated and probably very boring for anyone not directly involved but basically it comes down to the fact that Ole Punch is a wanker, and was rude and horrible and quite frankly people should know better than to be evil and hurtful to people who volunteer to help you. The past week has been a huge faith-test really (actually the faith in God isn't the problem, just in people particularly those who should be fucking better representatives). I've had this before with the odd priest and it really isn't new in that sense (when I was about ten or eleven one old lady who didn't approve of the way one of the priests spoke to his servers- me included- told me her Mum had said to her 'if you can't like the man then dislike the man, respect the cloth' and I take that as some comfort. This is the first time that any priest though has every actually caused hurt to One of Mine. Me? Yeah I'm a wimp, I've had a few moments in the past- even with Ole Punch himself once or twice now, but my mum? No way. So I'm still very very angry about it, and obviously she's upset still so I want to try take her mind off it. Doesn't help of course that between people dying and now this means that her social calendar's going a bit bare and I'm going to have to be creative I think in coming up way to help fix this.

Anyway so that's that. I met up with C from Uni at the weekend too and we went for a meal then at Patisserie Valerie in Liverpool, which was very nice and so I also think that maybe going out for a nice meal is just a generally good idea. We are not a family who often do this ever and I find I do actually quite enjoy it; it feels decadent and luxurious and hopefully other people will feel the same way.

Slowly I am coming to terms with my new phone- I definitely like being able to text people when I like without worrying about whether I've enough credit on which is a major plus, but it's just trying to work out different apps and things (any reccomendations on fun apps would be much appreciated by the way, hint hint) I took the above picture on instragram (provided it comes out when I click post) but I still am not 100% I get how it works so it's all very new. And All Tony Stark's Fault- don't forget.


localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)

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