So I went to the weekly group session, where this woman burst out on the discovery of her partner of 17 yrs cheating on her for past 3 or 4 yrs. God, imagine that. It just crushed me, as I was not in the best place myself. I was dragged into her shoes. I began watering my eyes. Why can I not turn my back and say adios to all these crap?
I am too depressed to lose weight. How ridiculous is that? My diet is made up with collections of crisps, the mountain of them.
And the group turned to me as I was trickling tears, so I began explaining how depressing the whole story was because of my own situation. And they had this bloody guts to say that my life was such a mess.
I then had to use 4 Styrofoam cups to illustrate my dating situation. Got the name for each cup wrong, so what, I don't call them by names, do I? I hate that sort of attachment.
Their eyes were blatantly saying "you big whore", but, well, I didn't care. It's doesn't matter what they thought, and no I was not promiscuous in any possible way. Just trying to be aloof, is all. And failing.
I hate Sundays, and I hate long weekend while waiting for something to may or may not happen. How am I going to survive this bank holiday??
Thursday 30 April 2009
Tuesday 28 April 2009
Pants
I work with so many youngsters. Some of them were born in 90s. How is that possible?? 90s?? That's got to be the level of different planets. I used to say, when great dame Olivia was still with us, that they are younger than my dog.
Today I was folding my underpants, and paused for a while when holding these pairs. Oh, my, god, they are now 18 yrs old. I work with people who are younger than some of my pants. That's just so wrong.
Today I was folding my underpants, and paused for a while when holding these pairs. Oh, my, god, they are now 18 yrs old. I work with people who are younger than some of my pants. That's just so wrong.
Monday 27 April 2009
Senior Citizens in Love
Every April I get my heart broken. This time it took a year. I am no spring chicken, I am no longer that 14 yrs old who would have done anything to just kiss your finger tips, I am getting too old for this, and to waste a whole year you were so not worth it, and you are going to pay for this.
I am tired. I know, again and again in my heart, that it is NOT me, but there were only 2 people there so it had to be something to do with me somehow, is what I end up with every time I think about this.
What do I want now? Am I going into a retreat yet again? Then what? I am going nowhere. And what??
It fucking hurts, and I am tired. Come on, take me, prove it to yourself that you can fucking take me. I am going to bark at your face and you will not move a nudge and then I will collapse to the ground you walk on, worship the back of your foot if that's what you want, I am that tired.
I hate them.
I am tired. I know, again and again in my heart, that it is NOT me, but there were only 2 people there so it had to be something to do with me somehow, is what I end up with every time I think about this.
What do I want now? Am I going into a retreat yet again? Then what? I am going nowhere. And what??
It fucking hurts, and I am tired. Come on, take me, prove it to yourself that you can fucking take me. I am going to bark at your face and you will not move a nudge and then I will collapse to the ground you walk on, worship the back of your foot if that's what you want, I am that tired.
I hate them.
Tuesday 7 April 2009
Really? How??
I forgot Bobbie's birthday, for the first time in, I don't know, 13 years? Subsequently I forgot that SOB's birthday, which, I think is a very, VERY good thing. I am ready to face up a new phase, yo.
Um, but how could I forget my beloved Robert Downey Jr.'s birthday? and be reminded of it by bloody People magazine? Where is my love? My undying love for the one and only?
Happy Birthday Bobbie, I still love you so very much, even though you are now this super hero, looking hunky and, most of all, sober and happily married.
Um, but how could I forget my beloved Robert Downey Jr.'s birthday? and be reminded of it by bloody People magazine? Where is my love? My undying love for the one and only?
Happy Birthday Bobbie, I still love you so very much, even though you are now this super hero, looking hunky and, most of all, sober and happily married.
Wednesday 1 April 2009
Always on the Bright Side
If you know me, you know how antagonistic and annoying I can be when it comes to my life in general. But, as much negativity and bitchness I hold in me, I do have a knack for being really, really positive when needed to be. If a person before me was a bit blue, then I can put all my skills to make them at least hit some chirpy note by the end of conversation with me, and I never have failed to do that yet.
One time I was in my local gay bar, and was puffing outside with some youngish gay man. We've never met or spoke before, and we were both little tipsy, and he was a bit down, which, I suspected was what he did when he was drunk. This guy was complaining how he cannot remember his mother who died while giving birth to him. He was explaining that his family and relatives keep telling him how wonderful his mother was, and it was getting to his head as he had no idea what this woman was like.
"Do you ever feel guilty for being born?"
"No, no, but I just wish I knew my mother. I don't know what these people are talking about."
On he went. I guess his family was saying nice things about his mother to compensate his loss, and that was not working on him.
"Well, think it like this. Your mother probably died the happiest person on this face of the planet, because she succeeded to give birth to you. She got to be your mother, and that's something special. That should be enough for you to appreciate your mother's life."
said I. The guy turned around looking into my eyes with astonishment.
"Oh, my, god. Nobody put it like that before. Oh, my, god."
Then he started to cry. At that point I was shitting myself, I just made a grown-up guy cry, ohh, shit.
"Hey, are you OK, man?"
"Yeah, yeah, I am. It's just so deep. I was deeply touched. Perhaps too deeply."
That, coming from a gay man, was a bit disturbing.
So here we go. I got a talent. It's a mystery how I can never apply that on myself. Seriously a true mystery.
One time I was in my local gay bar, and was puffing outside with some youngish gay man. We've never met or spoke before, and we were both little tipsy, and he was a bit down, which, I suspected was what he did when he was drunk. This guy was complaining how he cannot remember his mother who died while giving birth to him. He was explaining that his family and relatives keep telling him how wonderful his mother was, and it was getting to his head as he had no idea what this woman was like.
"Do you ever feel guilty for being born?"
"No, no, but I just wish I knew my mother. I don't know what these people are talking about."
On he went. I guess his family was saying nice things about his mother to compensate his loss, and that was not working on him.
"Well, think it like this. Your mother probably died the happiest person on this face of the planet, because she succeeded to give birth to you. She got to be your mother, and that's something special. That should be enough for you to appreciate your mother's life."
said I. The guy turned around looking into my eyes with astonishment.
"Oh, my, god. Nobody put it like that before. Oh, my, god."
Then he started to cry. At that point I was shitting myself, I just made a grown-up guy cry, ohh, shit.
"Hey, are you OK, man?"
"Yeah, yeah, I am. It's just so deep. I was deeply touched. Perhaps too deeply."
That, coming from a gay man, was a bit disturbing.
So here we go. I got a talent. It's a mystery how I can never apply that on myself. Seriously a true mystery.
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