It sucks to be a greeting card

I was at Tesco, standing in front of Valentine's card section, out of curiosity more than anything, and thought to myself,

"Wow, look at them all LOVEs."

When growing up, Valentine's was never for done-deal couples, but for hopeful romantics. It was the time to fess your fancy up to some dudes (never for girls, but that's just my country,) with chocolates. So saying "I love you," up front was just a tad too much in my eyes. I mean, I would run for my life if some girl comes up to me with "You are the one I love with all my heart.".

Besides, what is the couples who are not officially declaring their love to each other yet? What if they are at, "Does he love me... or this is just a fling?" kind of place, and there are only cards shouting love? There should be cards / gifts just saying,

"I wuv ur cute eyes and firm hiney xxx"

and,

"I think u r delish xx"

so on. Why not? Why does it have to be LOVE or nothing? That's just silly.

Well, I did find some non-love-announcing cards, but they were not near enough of them.

Come on, let us have some fun. After all this is the day all cuteness overload is commercially allowed and accepted.

Opinionated

I really am extremely opinionated, and that is exactly why I am doing things like blogging and that, and that is exactly why I refused to join up Facebook community. Oh, and that Facebook is lame. (I don't like to be found.)

I still am blogging. Am just pausing. I know that nobody is reading this, but this should keep going.

Till then x

People Eat When They Are Sad, Don't They?

I like the idea of going to the cinema late at night. I like it because the American style giant cinema which holds about 8 different theatres is usually empty, and it is surprisingly free of drunk and rude people who'd be there to hustle someone, or to have sex, or to throw up, or to make noise for their own amusement. Like it even more when I get special discount and I am occupying the theatre with just a handful well behaved, mature people, for £4.25.

 

Went to see a Meryl Streep film because I just wanted something cheerful, and she kinda fitted my mood. The film was OK, typical Nora Ephron, I'd say, could have been better. The film was sensational in the way that everyone in it kept speaking mouthful. And they smoked non-stop. But what was good was that I was actually on my own in the room tonight. I was in absolute solitary for 123 minutes. With a bottle of Pepsi Max wit 2 shots of Teachers. Heaven. Absolute heaven.

 

I sat in the best seat in the house, dead centre of the room, spreading my stuff and stretching legs out. Laughing out loud, gasping and giggling without a care in the world. This is what a solo person would do when one has 4.25quid.

 

When I left the theatre in the mid ending roll they even stopped rolling the film. They were running the film just for me, that's why.

 

I am doing OK, and I enjoyed the night. It is my time, and that is that. LOVE being here at this very moment. Don't think I am lying.

Black

This is totally random. I am getting drunk, and am BLUE.

Today I was looking, mighty miserable at the pub, and the Scottish chef said,

"What is the look? Have a sausage. Here. It's good, it's Scottish."

and the sausage never tasted better.

 

It sucks to be in a state like this, yet it's GREAT to know that people do care about you however miniscule the care was.

 

The sausage kind of made my morning. I was serving a large glass of sauvignon blanc to this, very hetero looking guy, who was sitting with, again, very hetero looking guy who only drunk G+T. We had some nice chat about Marlborough sauvignon blanc, before he settled his bill and pulled out this odd looking card. He knew his sav bla.

 

"Is Amex alright?"

He said, and of course it was, it's Ascot for crying out loud.

 

Why is this card so HEAVY???

 

Then, only then, I realized that it was THE Amex Black. The titanium one.

 

OMG. He pays 1,800 quid a year to have that card!! Grab him!!

 

I thought Amex Black was an urban myth, I really did. That made my afternoon. Some people.

 

And in the evening I enjoyed my favourite pinot noir.

 

Life is good. I am getting better. I hate you. I love you. Eat your passion to live, it's the only way.

Whatever You Believe

I think certain things that people say are total BS. I am in a place where I would do just about anything to get out of. I am deeply down and see no light anywhere. And people tell me things, you know.

 

Get on with your life, they say; How? I can barely move. All I can manage is breath in and out. Haven't even been eating for weeks.

 

Get some exercise, it is scientifically proven to reduce your depression; Really? Exercising always made me semi suicidal. I just think too much during. How would that help?

 

Get back on the saddle; Um, no thanks. That just leads to even more heart ache.

 

Go out. Do stuff; I am too afraid to leave the house. I just don't want to bump into anyone!!

 

Really. It hurts too much to even try any of these. I wish I did drugs and went on binge sex, that seem like easier and quicker solution. Yet I never will do do.

 

Ask me again later.

 

I am sure you know where to find me. Kill my soul.

I'm Going Back, Back to School

I am taking up a course, on booze. I am dead serious. The course materials arrived the other day, and I am already fogged up in my brain, my gosh, these are some serious stuff.

Who would have thought that I can be actually crying to drink so many, many drinks, while learning facts on them through many, many pages in text books.

It is totally opposite of giving up my vices...

Darn

Today is the day my friend, whom I love very much yet has not been on speaking term for about a month, dropped a bomb saying he might have cancer. It is just not fair, man, how can I stay mad at you after you pull the death card? and what you did to me was NOT forgivable...!!

I cried while holding ham and singles sarnie, sitting next to him. What else was I to do? The man is clearly freaking out, and he needs to see that I fucking care, and he needs to fight whatever the fate he will face for all those who love him.

Don't die on me. I need you. I can't go on without you. Oh, gawd.

Totally Trivial Matter of Fact of the Day

My car is a discontinued model and combined that with a fact that it didn't sell well back in the days, I consider myself lucky if I happen to see 2 fellow owners on the road per day, but many days I don't see none and that can be norm.

This morning I saw 3 within the duration of 5 minutes on the way to work, and saw one more in front of our office, which was the same reg, colour and fuel type. That's 5 of very unpopular cars within 2 mile range in Surrey.

My birthday don't seem to have many sharers, and the only people I know who have the same birthday were my grandpa and the daughter of my father's colleague, and one of the Royals (the family, not our football team.)

Today I had 2 people apply for our service, and one of them had the same birthday as mine, and the other one had the wife whose birthday was the same as mine.

You now, the next thing I will be saying,

"Oh, look, I saw 9 pigeons on neighbour's roof yesterday and the day before, and seeing the same again today!"

or, maybe not.

This is the Last One

I guess I just realized that I want to move on, rather than let the time pass me by. I guess I need to make the conscious decision to make this the last. I still hate you, and I hope you are dead already, but I am clearly over the whole thing, and I make sure it is done deal. Yes. This is the last, after 4 long years, so I have decided. Here we go.

Woudn't You Wanna Push That Boob..

I have this "connection" who gets me the very best of... well, any meat, I guess. Only ever bought pork from him, and only bought off of him once, but all my friends say the goods are pretty top notch.

 

Anyway, so I had this belly of pork stored in my freezer for a while, and only the other day finally got around to thaw it so I can saw it into thin slices for my liking.

 

I remember asking him, specifically, to remove all the skins and bones, but as I picked half thawed pork it was obvious that it had a bit of ribs and, well, the whole lot of skin on it. The skin had bumps on it. Bumps looked like buttons. Well, you know, it's the belly, so, yeah, all of sudden I was holding a whole lot of pig nipples.

 

I don't think I am wrong here to say that I am not the only one who would poke those things when faced with. I am almost entirely sure that practically everyone WOULD push them down. Well, I did, I admit.

 

That is all, really. I bought pork, and ended up poking pig nipples at 1.30 am in my kitchen with my index finger, before skinning the lot, butchering the block of meat into slices of pork. It was a weird night.

O, Baby

So, you get a new car, but the scenery outside of that new windows remains the same.

8.30 that freakishly tall and lean guy with the balding temple walks by you with rosy cheeks, knowing well how dashing he looks briskly walking like that every morning all the way to Oracle. (I wonder how he did with the date I saw him with back in September?)

8.35 do I get lucky this morning to see my baby, oooh, yes, he is there today, god, what a vision you are, you are SO GORGEOUS! Tall, strong glances and dark haired, and smokes like chimney!

8.40 that geeky looking guy on bicycle in total Top Man outfit goes by. How did you get on with the job interview from last week?

8.50 the girl goes by, you are almost due, should you be walking this much every morning? You look really happy. I know we never spoke for past 2 years that I saw you on the daily basis and I know you don't know me, but I just want to wish you the very best for the baby. I think it's a girl, BTW.

I know these people for such a long time, yet I don't even know their names. Yet I know when they are ill, or are on holidays. I wonder if anyone knows me going through the route every morning. I wonder if anyone sees me every morning, saying,
"O, baby, you are late again this morning. Had a bit too much last night?"
Well, I don't wish upon that, but I guess that's not entirely impossible.

It's Just Like dating, Again

I had a job interview. It's been at least 2 yrs since my last one, and the last one really was just a chat with a landlady of a pub, and all I had to do was to smile and say that I will obey whatever her command.

When you got a lame job you kinda hate you do think about trading up, or changing the scene. That is just like to do with relationships, and like most cases of that you probably won't get another job until things are so bad, or till you get sacked.

All these women I meet on Wednesdays, who bitch and moan about their partners, yet they never do anything, they are getting boring to me. If your mate doesn't turn you on any more but you are still horny, then stop bitching and leave the house, just do it. I am sure your mate is shagging some bird at his work who is 10 times perkier and eager to do him. What makes you think he is happy being stuck with you and your tired old arse?

Nah, I don't ever say that, but I want to, though. All these complaining make all of them such an unattractive things and I hope to sky that I won't be like that.

So, that's why I went for the interview. Not that I am looking to trade up, but felt that I need to do it. It didn't matter how I did do there. It doesn't matter now if I get the job or not. One has to try and test if one can still pull it off. Keep trying in any way and it will lead one to something. It has to.

Keep Your Enemy Closer

You know your enemy. You intensely dislike somebody, sometime loath them, sometime plain tolerate them, yet all along you are knit picking them on whatever they do in front of you. You can't stand them and you can't stand their joy or happiness. You may wish them harm, or you certainly wish someone to bring them the harm.

You know that somehow you are jealous of them, or at least jealous of what they have. They may have gotten your girl, or they may have gotten the job you wanted, or they may have the car you wouldn't get because you can't afford to and you were sensible enough to opt to an entry level car with 52mpg performance.

Or, it is possible that you just hate them.

I have a few of those. I know I am jealous of some of them, but to me it is like this; I am absolutely jealous of what they have, because I truly believe that they do not deserve what they have. I end up self-pitying me, saying,
"Why them? Why not me? What have I not done not to have those things?"

It bothers me enormously that sometimes in my life I do come across the chances for those things they have to become mine, and I somehow manage to think that I am this sad git that is trying to be the people one hates.

Why am I getting cars that are one or two levels down from what he ever had? Am I getting a beamer next? Really?? My guess would be 1 series? then what, a Bentley??

It's Been a While

I've been told by customers that my tone of voice was a bit off and that before, a long time ago, but this one I had today was way overboard. It was such a big come back. This 23 yrs old kid called up with the stupidest questions and I was being extremely irritated but was quite professional. I was talking to this kid as if he has no brain, speaking each word clearly so he can get it somehow.

Unfortunately, I have been too busy to keep the business facade and have been a little inpatient with some callers, and although I was never rude, I was a little forceful to end the conversation, by asking them to do things rather than sympathize with them in situations.

So this kid was one of them. He basically asked us to provide a telephone line to him but never told us which apartment he lives in  in this big building.

Glorious Me the Phone Bitch "We need to know your room number, or we will end up installing the line in someone else's room."

Boy Botch "How am I going to find out my room number?"

GMPB "Well, I suggest you ask the landlord, or the estate agent?"

BB "Oh, really? OK, well, then what number do I need to call when I find that out?"

GMPB "(Didn't you call us like 5 times before? Beside you got the caller ID display!) I can tell you the number now?"

BB "I am outside, have no pen."

GMPB "Is our number showing on your phone?"

BB "Oh, yeah."

GMPB "Well, my name is DiDi, please call us with the apartment number when you find it out."

BB "Is it always you if I call this number then?"

GMPB "Sorry? What do you mean, there are others, there is no problem for you to talk to any of us. Or would you rather not to have me answering the call?"

BB "Well, that's not what I am saying, but you better watch out how you speak to customers. You are always so aggressive, you got to think hard on that."

GMPB "I am sorry? I can't hear well. The reception is a little bad."

BB "I am fucking telling you that your attitude sucks, alright?"

GMPB "I didn't mean to sound like that but the reception is rather terrible."

Now I wrote it all down, it seems extremely unreasonable what he was saying. It really does. What a brat. You have no right to talk to any service people if you didn't know which apartment you live in, nor how to find out the door number of yours. GFYS, or go home, fuck face.

The Leading One is Black, and the Second one is Black, and the 3rd One is

Life is full of distractions. It is never a smooth sail no matter what you are doing. There is always the possibility for your car to break down on your way to work, and there is always a chance for the boiler to stop working in the middle of your shower, and there is always some fiddling needed when you use that electric cooker. These things make you think that the ife is rosier if you had enough money to pay so these things will be someone else's burden while you just enjoy the end products.

My distraction is a on-going one, and is so silly I just want to give up, but how?

I have 6 or 7 pairs of black socks, all from the same place but purchased at various stages of past 10 yrs or so. They are made up with slightly different materials, therefore displaying slightly different shades of black. Every time I do my darks I end up with 8 or 10 socks all in different shades (they look even more different when wet) and I have to play find the match. It doesn't help that some of them have been torn and thrown away, leaving odd ones with the individual shades.

I have been doing this for many years and I am quite fed up with it. I mean, who would have thought a person can have that many shades of black socks altogether? Why am I standing with handful of black socks that don't seem to match at all? Why? There must be a way out of this...

Today

Today is the day I've discovered DJ Splash. Monumental.

This is Serious

"You are contradicting yourself." They said all at once.

"You refused to identify yourself as woman, yet you sleep with men as a woman. They see you as female, you take that role, I think you have a big issue there."
Said one.

"Why do we have to be the sex, just because we are having sex!?"
I exclaimed.

"Who says I have to be woman to be sleeping with men? And would that make me a man if I was interested in women?"
I went on. This whole thing was ridiculous. Sexuality and sexual activity, plus gender identity and social identity are all too confusing to people. They either get it, or never, ever get it for all their lives.

This reminded of the time I was speaking with my colleague who said to me,
"Oh, I love European gays. They are more of women than real women."

I couldn't even begin to correct her, or point out how wrong the entire sentence she just uttered was.

"Look,"
I said, resolutely.
"I am comfortable in my own body. I love what I am."

"But,"
Mary interrupted me,
"you happen to be a woman. You have the body of a woman."

"Well, sorry, Mary, I refused to believe I do. I am me and that's that."
I continued. People looked confused, or even sorry to hear what I was saying.

"Look,"
I said once again,
"it took me almost 10 years around my puberty to get where I am now. I went through such a struggle and this is what I came to. I am not tied to one sex, and I just am me. The end."

They didn't get it. They never will. And they call themselves a support group. Fuck that. I was not sharing anything with you now, and I wouldn't start that now. You will never get it because you just can't break through. Pathetic, in a way. Yeah.

On Dark Rum

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??

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.

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.