RABBSEY

Mon, 07 Jul 2008 23:30:14 GMT

If you're interested in following my blogging I've switched to bunzador. I haven't written in it yet. I won't be adding anyone, because I don't want people to feel obliged to keep me friended. So please add me if you'd like.

I stopped writing this journal because Simon found it. We got in a bit of an argument because of the things I wrote about him that I couldn't talk to him about. I think we're stable enough now to talk about our problems face to face, but I think it's time for a change anyway.

I think this 20 year chapter of my life is closed. I'm moving to London, going to university... leaving all my friends and family behind. I'm not that sad, lonely girl. I'm no longer in love with the much blogged-about Andrew, but have experienced love as it should be... returned. I want to leave this 20 years behind in these old journals, and write about the new things in a new one.

So ladies, gentlemen and bunnies alike...

bunzador
bunzador
bunzador
bunzador
bunzador
bunzador
bunzador
bunzador
!!!

Fri, 04 Jul 2008 12:31:13 GMT

"Where do you hurt?" he asked her.
"Everywhere." she said, telling the truth.
"But where hurts the most?"
She hesitated. Her first instinct was to take his wrist and guide his hand into the centre of her chest and let her heartbeat echo painfully onto his palm, but it was all too cliche. "My head," she said, which was in some ways equally cliche, but he didn't notice it, and took to rubbing her temples with his finger tips.
She was lying on her back in the grass, feeling ants bustle beneath her bare legs. For days they'd been walking now, with sadness dragging behind her. She was so tired of it that she lay down flat, still and quiet, hoping it would not notice and carry on without her.
"Let it step over us," she said. The sun was so bright that she could not see his face. His entire body had become a flat, dark shape, stencilled onto the sky. She imagined his look of confusion, so she tried to explain about the sadness again. "Lie down flat," she whispered, in case the sadness was listening, and when he did not do so she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down onto her. He had not been expecting this movement, and his resistance to the ground gave way quite easily.
"What are we doing?" he whispered.
"Hiding."
"From what?"
She said nothing. Instead she was distracted by her new, unobstructed view of the sky. She watched the clouds pass over, bumping into each other and forming new shapes, while a pair of courting butterflies flittered overhead. It should have been delightful, but she remained untouched. "It's no use," she said, sitting up suddenly and pushing him off her, "it's still here."
By now he was quite confused, but loved her enough to put her odd behaviour down to the headache, or whatever it was that had caused her to drop down to the ground so quickly. He looked at how she sat, with her head in her hands, and was stunned by his own not-knowing of what to do. For so long she had been quiet with him, and he longed to hear her laugh. He thought the walk would be enough, but now he was certain it was a mistake. Nothing he could do would be enough.
"I'm not enough for you," he said.
She was so consumed by the sadness that she did not hear. Instead she watched the grass through her parted fingers, and counted all the daisies that appeared in between. She thought of the boy and looked at him, seeing his face this time. He looked as sad as she felt inside. This is my fault, she thought, and resolved to find a way to shake it off, one she had not tried out already.
She got to her feet and offered him her hand. "Let's go back," she said. He took her hand, gladly, and stood up slowly. The two of them walked back in silence, joined together, with nothing resolved.

Always the bridesmaid - never the bride, and quite rightly so....

Sat, 28 Jun 2008 08:53:02 GMT

Maybe it's the pre-wedding jitters, or maybe it's the 4 ultra-strength paracetamol I just swallowed with a half-bottle of Diet Coke. Maybe it's the fact I'm doing a Kanye West and running on about three hours sleep every night, or maybe it's the fact I'm listening to Kanye West (let's get lost tonight, you can be my black Kate Moss tonight) at 9.30am on this Saturday morning, guzzling rhymes.

I don't know what it is but I really have to write. I woke up and my head was frothing with words. I don't know what it is. If I miss writing, or blogging or just talking about the innerworkings of my mind - snore - but it's therapy, and right now I need all of that. For someone who has cohabited with an eating disorder for six years I'm surprised that it's only just now I'm having anxiety attacks at the thought of walking through a room full of people in a dress, a proper dress. People keep saying "I can't wait to see you in a dress," which makes me feel even worse that my constant ensemble of baggy clothes and trainers is THAT noticable.

After reading Icelandic novel 'The Swan' I wake up feeling like a shop lifter exciled to the country to work on a farm. This was extra disturbing this morning as I woke up at the crack of dawn in Emma's spare room, complete with patchwork quilt and spacey white walls. I expect crowing cockerels or lowing cows, but when neither came I realised I wasn't dreaming. I got up an hour before my bus left and planned what I had to do before the wedding starts.

On the cabinet beside the bed I slept on in the spare room, my farm bed, were three ornaments featuring doormice. One of them was crawling out of a half eaten apple and a thousand neurones exploded in my head, which is probably something to do with this headache, and I remembered an ornament from childhood that featured in my grandparents country house. In my room. In the room that was built for me, that my grandad climbed the roof to erect beams and concrete walls as my nanny stood and barbecued, and we all watched and applauded his skill, when now we poke fun at him for falling asleep in his chair with a biscuit in his hand. There were four ornaments, all featuring animals crouched inside half eaten vegetables. I grasped around for a photograph in my memory but only came up with one pumpkin and one badger, and the two did not fit together. Suddenly I was near tears longing for them, and all my nanny's things, on this day that my grandad would remarry.

Am I betraying her somehow by being his new wife's bridesmaid? I think back to their wedding, as if I was there, as if I was not an egg inside my mother, who herself was an egg. I see beautiful fifties dresses. I see my nanny, slightly plump but glowing, getting married, and beautifully pregnant with my father. Our whole family stretches out both behind her and in front of her. Then there is me at the very end of the path, me where it ends, who cannot have children.

I want the ornaments in my hands, so I can look at them and remember them and not have forgotten so many things from ten years ago. I remember after she died finding a draw in that bedroom built for me where things of hers were kept. Stamps, earrings, an eyeliner, a mirror. I knew only I had found it. My mum had been round months before, clearing out her things. This drawer had been missed, had escaped the brutal sweeping of her memory. It was preserved. I told no one of it. It was my treasure.

Just before my grandad moved out I placed a branch of Christmas tree in a vase in that room, and I looked out over the garden where we had danced in the smoke left behind by fireworks, or fed horses. I looked at our treehouse that we had abandoned through fear of the spiders who made it their home. In the new year I went back to the room and found the branch still there. I touched it and at once every pine fell off it, leaving the bare bones of the twig in the dry vase. It frightened me.

I think of my nanny in the hospital. I think of myself in the hospital and how hard it was for my grandad to visit me. All the memories he must have had, watching me with an oxygen mask attached to my face. I felt guilty for everything I'd done.

I have an hour 'til I go change into my dress and everyone looks at me walking down the aisle behind the bride. I have to shave my legs and put make up on. All habits I picked up after my nanny died. I feel like I have betrayed everything, simply by growing up, but it's just anxiety, and I will be fine in an hour, and it will be a lovely day.

Moving Again

Wed, 28 May 2008 17:35:40 GMT

Hi guys,

I started using LiveJournal in 2004 and have had over twenty accounts since then. Some of you have been following me since i_eat_origami (and I love you loads). There are always people following me who I don't want to read, which is why I have always deleted accounts or changed names.

I don't know if I have the energy to do this again but blogging so important to me. You all understand the greatness of word therapy, I'm sure, otherwise you wouldn't blog yourselves. I DO need this outlet but I don't feel safe. I never used to blog about myself, or eating disorder related stuff, but then slowly my journal have been more personal and it's caused me problems offline as a result.

I don't know what to say. Same rules apply, I suppose. I lose a few more of you long-term friends every time this happens. I will add you if I ever come back here (almost certainly), and will understand if you're tired of this chase.

I wish everyone well with all their ambitions. Thanks so much for all the advice. I will probably still read my friends page and communities.

Love to everyone, good health and happiness.

Hannah x

Illuminated Lanterns - London, March 2008

Tue, 27 May 2008 23:03:13 GMT

I FORGOT TO TAKE PICTURES OF MY BEAUTIFUL BOYFRIEND AGAIN. I even packed my camera! Why am I such a tard? When he meets someone far prettier/wittier than me (it won't take long, let's face it) what will I remember him by? Boo!!

MASSIVE jealousy pang when we were messing around on his Facebook and he had an email convo going with a pretty-looking girl. I didn't read it though - and acted cool. Like this "Oh it's long, BORING!" Give me an Oscar please! I acted my socks off :P I think it would have bothered me less if he ever replied to my emails without me having to ask (which I hate doing) and then says he doesn't have time when he replies to other people's emails, evidently.

I would like to say I could see this lasting the distance but I really don't know. There are a lot of things that worry me, like "oh I don't do drugs" and then I found a grinder in his coat pocket. Or "I smoke like three times a day" and then smoking twice that and then some. Or "when I get your letter I will write back straight away" and never finding the time. All these things, I'm sure, are minor to most people, but they make me want to literally die, which is why I don't think I am cut out for relationships. They just pile up and pile up. I don't know if it is because of have had shitty boyfriends in the past (one was rough with me, one was a drug addict, one cheated on me over ten times) or because I am just a stupid girl. I'd probably place money on the last one.

I had a horrible experience today which involved me going into a white room with plastic blue chairs and having to tell someone about my sex life/menstrual cycle. I hope I never have to do it again. I think being a girl is so much bullshit sometimes. Luke just told me a funny story in which a girl wrote "Michael Stipe" in menstrual blood on his wall. Actually, now I think of it, it wasn't funny, just pretty gross...

As is the norm with my sad-posts, this will probably be deleted tomorrow.

Thu, 22 May 2008 21:18:34 GMT

Last week I had the most fantastic weekend. Simon came down from London to stay with me for two nights. I am so very in love with him. There are cute pictures we took inside The Playhouse, but I look really gross in them all. Maybe I should take my camera when I go to visit him on Monday. He's taking me to a bookshop and then for lunch. :)

I finished my first novel yesterday - the one I've been working on for about six years. Printed: it is about two inches thick and is over 72,000 words! Some major editing needs to be done. I will have to give it a haircut of about 25%. I am amazed that I actually finished a piece of written work. I have never moved beyond a second chapter.

I am trying to arrange a viewing for a house in London on Tuesday, it will be suitable if I decide to study in London come September. We have around a month now until we lose this house for good. Bleh!

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Wed, 14 May 2008 14:02:29 GMT

Tibbs died a year ago today. Wow, a whole year! Here's a picture of him dancing at the grand age of eight (he was nine and a bit when he died, a testimony to garden bunnies!):

Our house has been sold, which is a horrible feeling. I'm going to have to share a room with my mum until September at the earliest. Also a horrible feeling!

I have only six chapters (out of thirty six) remaining of my novel. I don't talk about it, really. I don't tell anyone what it's about. Simon gets as excited about it as I do, which makes me work harder. He said when we live together he is going to get me a desk and a chair, with paper and pens, and bring me flowers and drinks while I work. He called me his little writer girl. I did feel a bit insane inside. Happy insane.

I'm so apprehensive about him coming to stay on Friday. In THIS house, with THIS family, in THIS town. I suppose it will only be as unpleasant as I make it.

Filters

Sun, 04 May 2008 15:00:17 GMT

I'm going to put up several filters, because I'm increasingly paranoid about who has access to my hardly-revealing-but-still-potentially-damaging journal.

If you would like to be omitted from any of the following filters please comment saying which, otherwise I will assume you want to hear the entire uncensored goings on of my life.

-TMI (sex, puking, NWS pictures, things you'd probably rather not know etc)
-Eating Disorder (if you're sick to death of me talking about making myself sick to near-death)
-BOOHOO! (emo rants with comments usually off)

Here we go again.

Sat, 03 May 2008 21:10:34 GMT

I should mention I'm in love. I forget to eat (this is the easiest 4lb I've ever lost), I forget to sleep, I forget to write, I forget to be sad, I forget to do anything but lie on my bed until he comes home and I can talk to him. It all sounds very unhealthy, but it doesn't feel like that at all.

I have rekindled my love for sushi. Sometimes I think "Oh! I should be eating!" and buy some vegetarian sushi and have a wonderful time sitting quietly in the staff room using my chopsticks and being careful not to overload with wasabi.

I need to tidy my room and pick out some DVD's I want to watch with Simon when he comes to stay for the weekend (in two weeks time - haha!)

WAKE UP SKIN

Sun, 20 Apr 2008 15:13:03 GMT

Oh really?

It's summer?

Because my skin pigmentation seems to think it's still Halloween, and it wants to go as Capser (the friendly ghost).

Sedate Kanye!

Tue, 15 Apr 2008 14:16:24 GMT

Oh dear, someone needs a good nap! I don't think getting by on one hour's sleep a night is really working wonders for Kanye West, who perhaps took too literally to his lyric "our work is never over". As ranted on his blog:

"I can't take it anymore. I have 2 show you guys a model of the stage. This is not a regular show. I tell people, hey, this show is gonna be crazy and they say, "I bet it is!", BUT THEY HAVE NO IDEA! People expect me to come with innovative stuff… I'm sure a lot of people expect some neon, lower east side, post everybody dressing like the 80's stuff or maybe the light up jacket from the Grammies, perhaps the robot girl and light spectacle they saw on Youtube from the European run. My friends….. NONE OF THE ABOVE!!! AN ENTIRELY NEW DESIGNED SET!!! ROBOT DESIGNED BY ACCLAIMED ARTIST CHRISTIAN COLON, CREATURE'S BY THE LEGENDARY JIM HENSON'S CREATURE SHOP, LIGHTING BY MARTIN PHILLIPS AND JOHN McGUIRE RESPONSIBLE FOR LAST YEARS FESTIVAL ANNIHILATOR, DAFT PUNK'S PYRAMID, POSSIBLY THE GREATEST LIGHT SHOW OF ALL TIME!! THANKS 2 PAUL, THOMAS AND GUYMAN FOR THE HOOK UP. SIDEBAR, MY SET DOES NOT HAVE A PYRAMID IN IT OR ANYWAY FEEL LIKE A BITE OF DAFT'S SHOW. WE'VE GOT HOLOGRAMS SHOT BY HYPE WILLIAMS!!!
SAM SPIELGAL, MIKE DEAN, JEFF BAXTER AND I HAVE SPENT A MONTH AND A HALF RE-ORCHESTRATING EVERY TRACK 2 FOLLOW A NARRATIVE. WE'VE LEARNED TO SURVIVE OFF OF 1 HOUR OF SLEEP A DAY!"

Ok, Kanye! We're all excited about your show which apparently DOES and DOES NOT feature a pyramid, but please stop yelling and get some rest. You'll feel better for it.

:S

Strange Strangers

Wed, 09 Apr 2008 13:51:33 GMT

Wednesday mornings are possibly the most alarming of all my shifts. There is a regular quota of bizarre customers who I see every Wednesday.

-A boy no more than 20 who wears a suit and a badge for the 2012 London Olympics. He must be about five foot tall. He is a little bit infatuated with a part of me that doesn't exist. He says such things as "Did you tell me you worked at the other Tesco?" when I haven't actually spoken to him enough to say any of these things I did not say. The first time we met he started the conversation with "How's business?" and ended it with "No doubt I'll see you around." No doubt at all, now he comes in every Wednesday without fail.
-A lady who doesn't wear a bra even though she really needs to, who wears a crucifix and has blonde straw hair. She asks for her receipt in a seperate carrier bag, which is a huge waste of plastic.
-A woman who wears a business woman's suit, with power-highlights on a short cut. She's chubby, cheerily made up and is always wearing a decorative broach (at Christmas it was a large piece of holly with several bells attached). Always asks us to credit her for re-using carrier bags.
-The maintainence man who claims he is like a surrogate father to everyone in the store. Apparently he likes how we function like a family (?!) and he wants to share his wisdom with us (?!?!?!?!). Today he was highly abusive to Mark & Natalie for no apparent reason, so I kept saying "whoops!" and accidentally stomping on the tiles we weren't allowed to walk on.

Today I also had two boys come in and stand smiling at me. One said "Hi!" and I didn't know what to do, so I smiled. They used the self-serve machines and were messing around, which made me grin. On the way out one said "Bye!", so I said "Bye!", and then the other said "I love you. I think you're so lovely!!!" made my day.

A Pre-Diet Boohoo

Thu, 03 Apr 2008 00:02:16 GMT

I'm starting The Rainbow Diet tomorrow (a diet that I think was started in ED communities based on eating only a certain colour of fruit and vegetable a day, with no more than 700 calories a week), so I'm incredibly stroppy for the bad times to come.

I regret getting a w910i from Orange. My old phone was fine, but I was spending too much on credit, so I'm on contract where I have "unlimited free texts". What they failed to mention is I'd be charged VAT along with my standard bill, so it works out I'm spending more. Also, I'm having the "operation failed" error meaning I can't access my texts, which is making me incredibly anxious since just before my phone broke I was aware I had three texts on there from at least two people I care about incredibly. I can't find the correct instructions or cables to update my phone, and it's just making me knee-huggy and sad.

Oreo and I bonded today. He's always been the grumpy bunny since he was a baby, but he sat still on my bed and lapped up all the kisses, head scratches and pets. He also produced two pools of pee on my duvet. Thx.

NEWSFLASH! (.....aren't marquees annoying?.....)

Forget Steve Carell! My weird crush of 2008 is OFFICIALLY Brendan Cole...

A rather pointless post

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 19:32:04 GMT

I cut my stupid fringe ("bangs" in America) so it was not jabbing in my eyes. It now looks even more stupid, but is at least practical.

So, since Peekaboo hasn't had any LJ exposure for a long time I think he's due his turn. He's still the runt of the litter, but he's a little more built than he used to be.

*Curl*

Who called me runt of the litter? Who?! >:[

SNOW RABBITS

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 00:47:12 GMT

There are lots of sad things to talk about, but I won't write them here. However, they don't want me, no one can afford the house, and I won't be moving out. Sorrow.

Here are Oskar & Oreo in the snow:

Also there is this to get excited about. One of my favourite authors is writing his latest story not in the form of a novel, but on various social networking sites including LJ, Myspace and Flickr. He has, like moi, a certain fascination with rabbits, and a rabbit-named LJ user has started commenting his character's LJ. I've been commenting too, and I'm worried people will confuse me with fake journals. Equally it's exciting that the participants become characters. It's certainly different, this is the main character's blog, but her parents have one also. And a Flickr with thousands of pics of a cat (we all know at least one person with a Flickr like that, right?). Miaow!

This is stupid.

Thu, 20 Mar 2008 22:21:58 GMT

I can't believe I am making a post about this retarded LJ "strike".

There are so many BIGGER more SERIOUS problems going on in the world at the moment. I feel a little sick at myself posting this the day after the 5th anniversary of the war, all the problems in Tibet, all the poverty that isn't just happening in third world countries but in our lovely Western civilisation.

BUT HERE, I am not doing this because LJ stopped doing a basic account or whatever. I am doing this because LJ removed things like eating disorders, bisexuality and depression from its list of popular interests. I do think there are bigger scale problems to do with mental illness and sexuality, and if this is the smallest way of attacking those problems I am willing to do a little bit, no matter how pointless it might be.

From 5pm PST today to 5pm PST tomorrow people are asking we don't post content or comments. It's one day guys. LJ can do what it likes with its accounts. It can charge me $100 an entry, I'll just blog elsewhere, but I think censorship on this scale is worrying.

IF YOU STILL HAVEN'T SENT ME YOUR ADDRESS, DO SO NOW.

RABBSEY AT GMAIL DOT COM

Congratulations internetz, you are creepy again.

Wed, 12 Mar 2008 20:53:27 GMT

I always wanted a live-in-my-pocket-plz best friend who would never leave my side and we could spend day after day after glorious day under the covers playing Scrabble and Guess Who till eventually we got tired and fell asleep (hugging!).

My ex's friend filled out a personal on Craigslist for a hang out buddy and loads of lovely, amazing girls with similar interests got back to him. So I decided to do something similar. Posted hobbies, interests a few details and a picture, thinking I'd get the same response. What did I get instead?

SUGAR DADDIES!!!!!!

This is the first e-mail I received, which confused me (because I am naive as fuckety fuck):

"Hi - have you ever considered befriending, and being taken care off by, a much older more mature man?

If that's of any interest to you please get back to me."

Then someting clicked in my head, and I thought "fuck. no." I since had several similar responses of a more graphic nature and now my Gmail is filling up fast with men trying to buy me.

How stupid of me to think I would get the same reaction as a boy of the same intentions as myself for finding a friend.

Please don't give me shit about filling out a personal, it was all well-meaning and legit at the time! :(

London Day Part 1: The Journey

Fri, 07 Mar 2008 15:43:40 GMT

In England sunshine is a blessing, whatever its accompanying weather form (in our case it was powerful winds) and we were so, so lucky with the weather. Since this trip to London is documented in over 200 photographs I'm breaking it down into pieces of our journey.

I was travelling backwards so every time the train came to a hault and I couldn't see the station sign ahead I would say "Is this our stop?" I think it was annoying all the passengers, it certainly annoyed James who eventually said "NO! Unless you'd rather get off and walk to Liverpool Street".

Also I am very fond of this on-board conversation:

James: I wish Madge was back in Neighbours.
Moi: Maybe she could wake up and everything since she died was a dream.
James: Like in Dallas!!!
Moi: Only she would have been on life-support, so she'd have aged and would be seventy...
James: And would look down at her wrinkley skin and then see Harold on a life support machine...
Moi: But then it turns out it was all just Harold having a dream! And it's back to the present story.
James: But then Harold wasn't anything to do with it at all. It was just Lou tripping on acid.

Viewing British country-side by train is always a pleasure, even for those most bored of Britain (I find, at least).

The fascination is evident.

Teehee.

A cute little station. I love train stations. I think if it were more socially acceptable I would visit them other than to use trains. They seem a bit dated. It's like being in the 1970's and thinking of the seaside.

The nearer you are to London the more built up everything around you begins to be. Things start looking less domestic and more industrial and homes are stacked up in the hundreds.

Football pitch, blurrified.

The dragon cloud.

My "pussy" on a train. Vulgar, immature and over all "a bit much". Har har har, though.

Also: wtf, Flickr?!?! Apparently now I've exceeded 200 photos my oldest ones will become "hidden" so that not even I can see them unless I pay to upgrade? How's that for a hidden clause >:[ FU FU FU.

Tue, 26 Feb 2008 19:27:12 GMT

Today Gabriel was walking backwards talking to Jon and I and some excited, gleeful running child was headed towards him. Jon said "Watch out! Watch out!" but it was too late and the little boy caught his stumpy leg on Gabriel's ankle and super-manned it through the air, arms outstretched, literally flying, until it smacked onto the pavement. I had to turn around for laughing so much (the child was okay).

A really obese woman in a Parker with long, greasy hair always comes into work seconds before we close (about 10:59 pm) and says "get me some cigarettes, love". I literally hate her, Lindsey does too. I swear she waits to the most inconvenient time to come for her chicken wraps, chocolate bars, instant noodles and cigarettes just so we can't leave early. I said to Lindsey "One day she is going to rush through those doors just before we lock them, and trip, and crash down to the floor and shatter her skull and I will stand and do nothing while her blood oozes out all over." This made us both laugh while Lindsey kindly served her the demanded cigarettes.

Also my mind goes back to a day with Mrs in Castle Park when a toddler ran in front of the swings while its awful parents stood oblivious by a far away bench. A little Indian girl booted the kid in the chest and it sort of twisted round in the air and ended up hitting its head on the metal frame of the swing. It was fine. In fact it didn't start crying 'til one of its idiot-parent's dragged it by its arm across the floor yelling at it. Needless to say I couldn't breathe from laughing.

I figure that if karma is real I have the slowest, most painful, goriest death lined up for me, and everyone will be there, pointing and laughing.

Redeem, redeem! :S

From this, to this (and yet still quite ugly)

Sun, 17 Feb 2008 16:12:55 GMT

I got really tired of my drab natural colour. Occassionally I have the impulse to make a radical change to myself, and more often than not I succomb. Hence the brown...:

(I appear to have fluff on my nose, ?!)

...becomming red:

I'm not used to it enough to know if I regret it or not.

Happy Birthday Tibbs

Thu, 14 Feb 2008 19:34:13 GMT

All day I've been asking people what they got for Valentine's Day, and who they'd sent a card to, and feeling a bit squee-filled when GC sent me a V-Day text (not as nice as a card, but really, am I in a position to complain? No. Plus he doesn't have my address!).

Then on the way home from work with mum I said "Oooh! You know what I forgot?!".

It would have been Tibbs' tenth birthday today. He was meant to be seven weeks old when we got him but the vet estimated him at closer to five. We calculated his birthday as Valentine's day, making him 111 in rabbit years today.

He'll be dead a year on May 14th, which is going to be weird. He still has his bunny toy under the bench where he's buried with him, but I think I am going to make something for him today, 'cause I really miss him.

As a little kitten, living indoors until he was tough enough to live outside:

A few months before he died:

<3

Mon, 11 Feb 2008 22:12:59 GMT

I finally have a camera, and Colchester was unusually full of love today. First of all I found this treasure next to the fish and chip shop. How crazy for a father to pick up a can of spray paint and publically grafitti this love-filled message on a wall, but also how sad that it was likely to be a last resort if he had been denied access to his daughter or was unsure of her whereabouts (this wall is around the corner from the school, so most probably he intended her to see it on her way home).

Then later on balthamos_1987 and I spent a while looking at hundreds more public declarations of love in the window of a charity shop.

balthamos_1987 looking at the messages:

New Year's Resolutions: January

Fri, 01 Feb 2008 20:49:14 GMT

A recap on how I've stuck to my resolutions over the first month of the new year.

1. Lose weight. This is number 1 every year, and therefore desired above all else.

I lost 11lb making myself sick, and gained 7lb by eating a healthy 1,500cal a day (thus meaning 7lb of the original loss was water and muscle tissue). An overall loss of 4lb, and a very sore throat. Kudos to me.

2. Complete a piece of writing to satisfactory standards. And seek publishing, for much needed cash.

I'm no longer fussed about the damn cash, I just want to finish it, to see if I can!

3. Expand my social horizons. E.g. talk to people a little bit more, preferrably sober.

Okay, slightly unnecessary... There's nothing wrong with the people I know. I suppose I'm still searching for a soulmate, but I really don't feel the need to go out and grab people. I've made three good friends this month so that's top banana.

4. Experience better things by travelling more, saving money to see things I might not see again whilst reasonably young.

My plans for Switzerland fell through (like most of my plans) and I've been spending whatever I'm earning (sometimes more). I failed this one, poo.

5. Stop caring about Graham Collins. It may be necessary to destroy the scarf of Graham Collins or to stop drying my hair with a hair dryer (Graham Collins smells like warm air from new hair dryers) or to stop thinking about Graham Collins and to stop looking at pictures of Graham Collins and to possibly stop texting Graham Collins seconds after Graham Collins texts me. This is subject to Graham Collins' prolonged aloofness. Should Graham Collins decide to be more than a fling this resolution may be voided.

Yey! I have forgotten him completely! He is out of my life! Forever!!! Oh yeah, but I did go on a date with him last night. Right. So probably failed this one...

6. Record everything wonderful.

I've been experimenting with my camcorder and hoarding tickets and other tokens of nostalgic value. My paper journal keeping is usually a few key words to summarise the day. I've still not received my camera from the insurance company, which is irritating beyond copability.

7. Stop thinking my friends hate me. They don't hate me. That's why they're my friends. Sometimes they just don't want to hang out. And that's okay.

Actually it's been a good month for hanging out (same as January 2007), so I've kept this complex dormant (thus far).

8. Make the world a better place as much as possible, no matter how tiny the improvements may be.

I'm organising a charity run at work all by my lonesome which I'm proud of. I've also been kind to people who are absolute cunts in the hope that their cuntageness is for a reason which might be rectified by my thoughtfulness. Back to full time vegetarianism, although not veganism. *Guilt*.

9. Finalise some direction in life. A plan is not necessary, just the tools needed to secure a plan can be made if ever it should be.

I consider applying to five universities yet behaving myself at work enough for me to achieve a glowing reference a step on such a path.

10. Make money some other way that is not stacking shelves.

Ugh. I've been doing Avon. I've done two orders so far and it's awful. Old ladies suck. And their cheques bounce. And usually I'm too much of a wimp to ask for the money anyway, so if anything I'm losing money AND running myself into an early grave.

11. Set reasonable goals in every task. Walk before you run, etc.

Well, aside from diet anxiety causing mass bulimia to toilets everywhere across the UK, I fared pretty damn well.

~~12. Not fret about making lists with even numbers, you silly OCD biatch.~~

I'm going to poo myself, right about...

Thu, 31 Jan 2008 18:13:29 GMT

So, it's Thursday (by my count, at least) and it's evening (by my count, at least), so what became of my "date"?

Well, to be honest I'm not so sure myself.

Here I am, having spent an entire day getting myself perfectly painted head to toe, in my prettiest dress, with my bag already packed and I get a text message.

I'm on the guest list for Route. Something to do with him having friends in high places. I hate Route at the best of times (last time I went people kept spilling drinks on me and the toilets were overflowing with pee since the chain wouldn't flush). But it's cool, I've decided to be a brave girl today. Only, I've got to make my own way in there, since he won't tell me what time he's coming into town (just "later on"). Later on from when? 8pm is later on, but so is 3am. So not only do I have to go into Route alone, I may be there an infinite amount of hours before he shows. If he shows.

Not only that, his best friend is now coming, probably canceling out the fact this is a "date". Not only do I have to be funny and charming, I have to impress the best friend who is probably coming along to be nosey. I hate boys when they are together, and they are doing the "she's a six, she's a ten" game.

So, I feel physically sick. I'm going to pinch a few beers from my brother's room and top it with a Malibu and cream soda. I'm then going to go to town and wait with Jon until GC shows up or I am brave enough to go to Route on my own.

:(!

D8ING

Tue, 29 Jan 2008 23:46:23 GMT

Weird things:

1. I have been asked on a date
2. By a boy who is not criminally insane
3. Nor twice my age
4. Nor into hard drugs and violence
5. Who has a cute face.

Sometimes I will admit to thinking the universe fucks with me, you know, for a laugh.

It's Thursday. I have no idea if I am brave enough.