Someone once told me I thought too much and that's not a good thing. Well - it's always better to think too much then to think to little - that's what I say. If you don't think something through properly and work things out then they won't work out and you'll be hitting your head against a brick wall.
So the dilemma today is this - it's been a dilemma for a long time but I've got to the stage that I'm sick of the whole lot. Absolutely sick of it. What is it? Well - it's this - I'm going out with someone that I love to bits - however rather than to be able to prance about to the whole world and shout out I have to be careful about who I say what to because it could cause 'certain complications'. This has led to going on holiday and not being able to say - I'm going with my boyfriend skiing or with my boyfriend to Tobago. I have got to the point where I have to figure out a fake destination to go on holiday. It's bloody ridiculous.
My mother always told me that if you lie, you'll end up digging yourself a big whole. It is better to tell the truth even if it makes digging a small hole for yourself because that hole is not going to be as big as the one that you would create if you lie. When you lie you make yourself ill.
Well - I've got to the point that to heck with it. Who cares whether I am going out with my boyfriend. Why would that be a problem? What is the problem? At first I thought that perhaps it was better to keep things quiet because I didn't want any aggrevation from my boss asking me questions about my boyfriend who is off work due to a bad back brought on by RSI. Now it's got to the point that thinking about it - what does my boss care whether I'm going out with him or not? Why would he care? So why everything hush hush. No more.
So now the pact as follows - I'm stressin myself out and making a problem out of something which shouldn't be a problem.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Friday, June 22, 2007
Well the swelling went down after the weeks dosage of antibiotics - I didn't say anything to anyone as I didn't want to scare anyone.
I went to the doctor a week and a half later to check everything was ok - it wasn't - she still felta lump of hard tissue in my right breast which didn't exist in my left. She told me not to worry, the infection probably wasn't cleared or it could be something that I have had all my lif. Never the less, she wanted to get it checked out and referred me to a specialist.
The letter came in the post today for an appointment on 02 July. I've not told anyone - but I'm wishing the appointment would come sooner as I want to get this done and over with. I try not to think about it - better to worry when the time comes I keep thinking - but it is lying right at there in my head all the time. It is scaring me because I feel so tired now - tired all the time - like life has been sucked out of me.
I just so wish I had my mum with me now. I don't feel comfortable talking about it with my friends as I don't want to tie them down. I just feel so empty and lonely at the moment. I guess the only real preson I could ever talk things with was my mother but that's impossible at this moment of time.
I went to the doctor a week and a half later to check everything was ok - it wasn't - she still felta lump of hard tissue in my right breast which didn't exist in my left. She told me not to worry, the infection probably wasn't cleared or it could be something that I have had all my lif. Never the less, she wanted to get it checked out and referred me to a specialist.
The letter came in the post today for an appointment on 02 July. I've not told anyone - but I'm wishing the appointment would come sooner as I want to get this done and over with. I try not to think about it - better to worry when the time comes I keep thinking - but it is lying right at there in my head all the time. It is scaring me because I feel so tired now - tired all the time - like life has been sucked out of me.
I just so wish I had my mum with me now. I don't feel comfortable talking about it with my friends as I don't want to tie them down. I just feel so empty and lonely at the moment. I guess the only real preson I could ever talk things with was my mother but that's impossible at this moment of time.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Invincible
You always think that you are invincible - well I always think so. Never had a cold or flu in the last year and a half where as everyone else at work has had at least 8 episodes during this period.
And when sore breasts always come about it's normally put down to the time of the month - until last week. Last Thursday night, me, the one that never gets headaches or migraines got a really bad migraine in front of the comp whilst working late one night. When I got home it was so bad that I borrow 1g painkiller tablets from my flatmate. When I got to bed, I felt a hard rock in my right breast. Not only was it so sore, but the whole right side of my right breast was rock solid - I could feel a solid lump lead from my armpit to my nipple.
The next morning I called the doctor but couldn't get an appointment until the Thurs. So I got home, the breast was worse and was so hot to touch. Went to my boyfriends to help him move house - had four beers and woke up the next morning to a still rock solid breast, a thumping headache and, when I got to the shower, a hugh rash had developed over my right breast where the lump occurred.
On Monday, I phoned the doctor and managed to get an emergency appointment. Turns out I had a breast infection where, because I was working so hard, my body was getting worn down and my immune system became slightly ill. I had developed a either a cyst or had a blocked duct - either way I was prescribed antibiotics and told to come back in a weeks time.
Three days have gone past and my breast is not as swollen as it was and all the hard bits have gone away but there is still a lump there the size of a peanut within it's shell. I'nm hoping give anther three days and it will disappear. The doctor put me at ease however I am quite worried as I read on the internet that a breast infection (mastistis) can occur due to a cancerious or beign tumour developing. So here's hoping this is not the cause.
And when sore breasts always come about it's normally put down to the time of the month - until last week. Last Thursday night, me, the one that never gets headaches or migraines got a really bad migraine in front of the comp whilst working late one night. When I got home it was so bad that I borrow 1g painkiller tablets from my flatmate. When I got to bed, I felt a hard rock in my right breast. Not only was it so sore, but the whole right side of my right breast was rock solid - I could feel a solid lump lead from my armpit to my nipple.
The next morning I called the doctor but couldn't get an appointment until the Thurs. So I got home, the breast was worse and was so hot to touch. Went to my boyfriends to help him move house - had four beers and woke up the next morning to a still rock solid breast, a thumping headache and, when I got to the shower, a hugh rash had developed over my right breast where the lump occurred.
On Monday, I phoned the doctor and managed to get an emergency appointment. Turns out I had a breast infection where, because I was working so hard, my body was getting worn down and my immune system became slightly ill. I had developed a either a cyst or had a blocked duct - either way I was prescribed antibiotics and told to come back in a weeks time.
Three days have gone past and my breast is not as swollen as it was and all the hard bits have gone away but there is still a lump there the size of a peanut within it's shell. I'nm hoping give anther three days and it will disappear. The doctor put me at ease however I am quite worried as I read on the internet that a breast infection (mastistis) can occur due to a cancerious or beign tumour developing. So here's hoping this is not the cause.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Time to Think - The Gruenthal Church
There is always a time, one in a while, where you will always have time to think, sit back and thank about the past. Sometimes, it's a bad thing - sometimes it's a good thing. I've always been one that doesn't want to dwell on the past - rather I want to make sense of it. Tonight was one of those times.
My parents marriage was one of great animosity - one that lasted over a good fifteen years of court battles and thousands and thousands of dollars. In the end, what became two people's distrust and hatred of each other (who at one time loved each other dearly) ended up in the death of their first born and many scars on their children.
My brother was the eldest of the family, born in Warsaw in 1954, I later found out he was conceived 6 months prior to the marriage of my parents. There are also three girls who were born later, making a total of 4 children, each of us being born 6 years apart.
The animosity of my parents divorce occured during the time I was conceived/born. As the youngest, I never actually remembered by father from an early age. I always remember my mother. It was later, when I first met my father the first time after 20 years, at the age of 22 that my sister told me my father thought I wasn't his and believed my mother was having an affair and refused paternity. When I look at myself in the mirror, the thought of this angers me as I, out of the three girls, could not be mistaken for being my fathers daughter. I have his long tongue, short leagues, and his chubby cheeks and, so my mother used to say, that same pouty expression when I was upset. I also know my mother isn't the kind of person who would have an affair. Funny that, he also said that she wanted me aborted. It's at that time it hit me - so many lies were hitting me in the face at 22 - expecting me to believe them.
My mother could be derogatory about my father, but only in an angry way - she was never malicious. She would call him a bastard in Polish and all the other names under the sun in Polish (so I would never understand them as young ladies never swore) but she was never malicious. With her, there were always true facts.
She dwelt on the past. Everywhere we went, boxes upon boxes of affidavits, papers and cititation outlining the bitter courtcases followed. Rather than reading the sunday papers on a Sunday or a fairytale book in bed, I was read affidavit upon affidavit. In a way, I was the only person my mother could talk to. I was her therapist.
I remember in 1984 coming home from school one winter when we were living on the farm in Furdale on the outskirts of Saskatoon. There was the long long lane which lead from a dirt road to the main gate of the farm -it was snowing quite hard. Coming down half way, a car was approaching me in the opposite direction. A young woman jumped out and screamed Laura, scared, I started to run in the opposite direction. The young woman was my eldest sister Vicky. She had told me that Jerry had died and that she came to tell Mom and she had collapsed in the bathroom and they had to call an ambulance. She was now concious. My mother was never the same again. She lost something after that.
I remember when I caught her crying a few weeks later and I ran up to her and tried to cheer her up by saying,' Don't cry Mummy - you still have me.' and she got angry and yelled at me and went into the other room. As a child, I didn't understand her grief. I guess no one can - no one can understand how a mother feels when her child dies before she does.
I never remember knowing my brother - in fact I don't remember him at all. During the acrimony he left his first year Uni studies in Veterinary Medicine and got involved with a sect known as the Gruenthal Church. He later built himself a log cabin in the forest in the Peace River Region of Alberta where he trapped fur. He got so engrossed by God that my mother tried to so hard to get him out of it. My father, on the otherhand was the one who encouraged him. He had told my mother he was living there to find God. He later died trying to find him.
It was the Gruenthal religion that also f*cked up my eldest sister Vicki. At the age of 17 she was quoting from the bible. At the age of 19 she married some monster from the same religion that treated her like a shit. At the age of 21 she saw sense and got herself out. I remember my mother following her one time, to the church in Cloverdale where she would go each night. There were Amens and Halleughahs flying left right and centre. A Roman Catholic Church had a sense of peace to it. This place had a sense of hostility. It was like a set of a horror film.
My mother followed her back to her basement flat where she was taking care of an old lady and begged and pleaded her to go to University, to leave the religion and make something of her life. And then a huge argument erupted. My sister started quoting from the bible and my mother got angry and harsh words were exchanged between each other. My mother stormed off with me in tow with my sister harassing her and shouting at her that she would go to hell as the bible said ' bla bla bla bla bla'.
By the age of 10, I not only did I know how to write an affidavit, I knew how to type one. I guess that's why I like Arthur Erickson so much as an architect. He was a Canadian architect who designed the Supreme Courts of British Columbia - what I would call 'home' when I was younger - we practicaly lived in those buildings.
I remember my mother saying to me before I was going off to Uni, that maybe she made a mistake, maybe I should have had contact with my father, maybe perhaps, that could pose an obstacle to how I went through life in the future. At that time, I thought maybe she was right. But, after meeting him and experiencing first hand the manipulation, how wrong she was.
So you may be asking me now why I'm writing this. Well, I had a moment to think tonight, and when I have a moment to think, I tend to think about the past. I looked up the Gruental Church and there really is not much about it on the web. However, there is plenty about the church in respect to one situation, where a young man who was a member of the church was diagnosed with bone cancer. His parents refused treatment as this was against the religion,insisting God would save him. The boy died. This is a religion who insists that all female members where skirts below the knee - no trousers are permitted. This is a reliogn that insists all female members get married at a young age and are not allowed the chance to educate themselves to male standards.
So this angers me. Why my father, an intelligent man, with a PhD in International Law, would not only introduce his children but encourage them to take part in such a religion. The more I think about it the more I become aware of how he would do whatever it took to hurt my mother, and what better way then by not only turning her children against her but also parading their dramatic demise infront of her. And no matter how hard she fought and how hard she tried, she was unable to stop it. There are no words to describe a person who is not only capable of doing this but is also aware of what he is doing.
My parents marriage was one of great animosity - one that lasted over a good fifteen years of court battles and thousands and thousands of dollars. In the end, what became two people's distrust and hatred of each other (who at one time loved each other dearly) ended up in the death of their first born and many scars on their children.
My brother was the eldest of the family, born in Warsaw in 1954, I later found out he was conceived 6 months prior to the marriage of my parents. There are also three girls who were born later, making a total of 4 children, each of us being born 6 years apart.
The animosity of my parents divorce occured during the time I was conceived/born. As the youngest, I never actually remembered by father from an early age. I always remember my mother. It was later, when I first met my father the first time after 20 years, at the age of 22 that my sister told me my father thought I wasn't his and believed my mother was having an affair and refused paternity. When I look at myself in the mirror, the thought of this angers me as I, out of the three girls, could not be mistaken for being my fathers daughter. I have his long tongue, short leagues, and his chubby cheeks and, so my mother used to say, that same pouty expression when I was upset. I also know my mother isn't the kind of person who would have an affair. Funny that, he also said that she wanted me aborted. It's at that time it hit me - so many lies were hitting me in the face at 22 - expecting me to believe them.
My mother could be derogatory about my father, but only in an angry way - she was never malicious. She would call him a bastard in Polish and all the other names under the sun in Polish (so I would never understand them as young ladies never swore) but she was never malicious. With her, there were always true facts.
She dwelt on the past. Everywhere we went, boxes upon boxes of affidavits, papers and cititation outlining the bitter courtcases followed. Rather than reading the sunday papers on a Sunday or a fairytale book in bed, I was read affidavit upon affidavit. In a way, I was the only person my mother could talk to. I was her therapist.
I remember in 1984 coming home from school one winter when we were living on the farm in Furdale on the outskirts of Saskatoon. There was the long long lane which lead from a dirt road to the main gate of the farm -it was snowing quite hard. Coming down half way, a car was approaching me in the opposite direction. A young woman jumped out and screamed Laura, scared, I started to run in the opposite direction. The young woman was my eldest sister Vicky. She had told me that Jerry had died and that she came to tell Mom and she had collapsed in the bathroom and they had to call an ambulance. She was now concious. My mother was never the same again. She lost something after that.
I remember when I caught her crying a few weeks later and I ran up to her and tried to cheer her up by saying,' Don't cry Mummy - you still have me.' and she got angry and yelled at me and went into the other room. As a child, I didn't understand her grief. I guess no one can - no one can understand how a mother feels when her child dies before she does.
I never remember knowing my brother - in fact I don't remember him at all. During the acrimony he left his first year Uni studies in Veterinary Medicine and got involved with a sect known as the Gruenthal Church. He later built himself a log cabin in the forest in the Peace River Region of Alberta where he trapped fur. He got so engrossed by God that my mother tried to so hard to get him out of it. My father, on the otherhand was the one who encouraged him. He had told my mother he was living there to find God. He later died trying to find him.
It was the Gruenthal religion that also f*cked up my eldest sister Vicki. At the age of 17 she was quoting from the bible. At the age of 19 she married some monster from the same religion that treated her like a shit. At the age of 21 she saw sense and got herself out. I remember my mother following her one time, to the church in Cloverdale where she would go each night. There were Amens and Halleughahs flying left right and centre. A Roman Catholic Church had a sense of peace to it. This place had a sense of hostility. It was like a set of a horror film.
My mother followed her back to her basement flat where she was taking care of an old lady and begged and pleaded her to go to University, to leave the religion and make something of her life. And then a huge argument erupted. My sister started quoting from the bible and my mother got angry and harsh words were exchanged between each other. My mother stormed off with me in tow with my sister harassing her and shouting at her that she would go to hell as the bible said ' bla bla bla bla bla'.
By the age of 10, I not only did I know how to write an affidavit, I knew how to type one. I guess that's why I like Arthur Erickson so much as an architect. He was a Canadian architect who designed the Supreme Courts of British Columbia - what I would call 'home' when I was younger - we practicaly lived in those buildings.
I remember my mother saying to me before I was going off to Uni, that maybe she made a mistake, maybe I should have had contact with my father, maybe perhaps, that could pose an obstacle to how I went through life in the future. At that time, I thought maybe she was right. But, after meeting him and experiencing first hand the manipulation, how wrong she was.
So you may be asking me now why I'm writing this. Well, I had a moment to think tonight, and when I have a moment to think, I tend to think about the past. I looked up the Gruental Church and there really is not much about it on the web. However, there is plenty about the church in respect to one situation, where a young man who was a member of the church was diagnosed with bone cancer. His parents refused treatment as this was against the religion,insisting God would save him. The boy died. This is a religion who insists that all female members where skirts below the knee - no trousers are permitted. This is a reliogn that insists all female members get married at a young age and are not allowed the chance to educate themselves to male standards.
So this angers me. Why my father, an intelligent man, with a PhD in International Law, would not only introduce his children but encourage them to take part in such a religion. The more I think about it the more I become aware of how he would do whatever it took to hurt my mother, and what better way then by not only turning her children against her but also parading their dramatic demise infront of her. And no matter how hard she fought and how hard she tried, she was unable to stop it. There are no words to describe a person who is not only capable of doing this but is also aware of what he is doing.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Shower Gel
Ok - I am perplexed here - not being difficult or bitchy or natty - just perplexed. Here is a female in need of a male perspective point of view.
When a guy leaves his shower gel at your place - well - the first time he did it - I just left it. I have not used it but thought since there wasn't that much left - it might as well stay there so he could use it for the next time.
So a month passes and well I left my shower gel at his place. It got packed up and shifted back to mine twice.
So this time, another shower gel bottle has been left in my shower. Do I (a) leave it or (b) ship if off back to his?
I'm perplexed. Fuckin hell - it's only shower gel but it's making me head hurt!
When a guy leaves his shower gel at your place - well - the first time he did it - I just left it. I have not used it but thought since there wasn't that much left - it might as well stay there so he could use it for the next time.
So a month passes and well I left my shower gel at his place. It got packed up and shifted back to mine twice.
So this time, another shower gel bottle has been left in my shower. Do I (a) leave it or (b) ship if off back to his?
I'm perplexed. Fuckin hell - it's only shower gel but it's making me head hurt!
Monday, April 23, 2007
When enough is enough
Well, it's been a while since I wrote something, but today I reached a limit where even I became highly aware was unusual for me.
Let me explain myself - there are normally three kinds of bosses you can get:
Boss No. 1: The incredibly easy going boss that is more like your mate than your boss!
Boss No. 2: The perfectionist boss - one that has high standards and can loose his temper from time to time because he is passionate about his work but one you highly respect, admire and look up to.
Boss No. 3: The complete impestious prick that feels that he has to keep everyone under his thumb and feels the only way to succeed is to exert his authority. He is one who you can't work with in a team, who you can't learn anything from, is completely useless of even doing basic tasks and is a complete arse wipe.
Well you see my current Boss is Boss No. 3. I can get quite passionate about my work and if I was to be a boss in the future it would perhaps be Boss No.2. However, today I reached the end of my tether with my boss. When I first came for the interview to work for him I was promised full training, a pay review after three months, and managementcontrol of my jobs and tasks.
To this day, I haven't seen anything. Full training - his idea of full training was to hand me a book, stick me a corner and ask me to read it for a day. It turned out he didn't even read the book himself. If he did, he would of found that it was utterly useless.
Pay rise? No review after 3 months ever came along. I accepted a decrease to my last job because I was promised full training. After 6 months, I was told that the firm was in tight finanial grips and therefore they could not increase my pay but would like to offer me a bonus to thank me for my work. My bonus? £250 which was also taxed and national insured. My bonus turned out to be a measly £100.
And control and management of my work? Well, that's not happened. Seems I do all the work but have no control. He likes to exert his control and likes to take all the credit.
My point being is that today finally reached my tether. You see, I have been designing something for a client which they have been more than happy with. We won the pitch to work with them last year and again, this year. However, last year we didn't make a profit. Why? Because this client in quesiton is a good friend of my boss and as such he feels they should get preferential treatment in comparison to our other clients.
e.g. Design Time of actual work costed for = 2 days
Design Time of actual work done to which the client loves = 1.5 days however....
I feel we should give our client an extra two days free as we spent 4 days last year and I don't want them to think we are not spending less time with them this year. I would like to give them a variety of options
So infact you are saying - let's spend two days of my time wasting it when it will be a waste time designing more stuff or do changes that the client will not be interested in . This wastes my time when quite in fact it could be used more wisely of things which are actually required.
So last week I spent my two days of design time -I was then made to spend an extra days work doing meaningless changes becuase he wanted to give the client a variety of options. It turns out that he didn't even bother sending through the variety options but one of each. So in fact the client didn't even get to see the variety of options. No only this, put when I asked him which option of each the client decided on, he point blankly lied to me and pretended to read aloud an email which was 'supposively' from the client, deciding on the options. How do I know this? well the pdf which was supposively received from the client was made on the 19th of April at 5:30 pm. This is exactly, 15 min after I gave my options to my boss. We never received an email from the client informing usof their decision until today (23 April 2007).
And that's what pissed me off. I wasted another day of work and was lied to. Normally, being quite a passionate person, I let it all bottle up and blow. This time however, I went past the point of blowing, I realised I was talking calmly and firmly to my boss without even shaking but in a very monotonous tone. I went beyond the point of loosing my cool and turned and walked away. I didn't even want to dignify his presence with a response.
So I came home today and decided then and there that enough was enough. Work is half your life. Work is about developing yourself and working as a team. This job was deevolving me and it is now time to get out.
Let me explain myself - there are normally three kinds of bosses you can get:
Boss No. 1: The incredibly easy going boss that is more like your mate than your boss!
Boss No. 2: The perfectionist boss - one that has high standards and can loose his temper from time to time because he is passionate about his work but one you highly respect, admire and look up to.
Boss No. 3: The complete impestious prick that feels that he has to keep everyone under his thumb and feels the only way to succeed is to exert his authority. He is one who you can't work with in a team, who you can't learn anything from, is completely useless of even doing basic tasks and is a complete arse wipe.
Well you see my current Boss is Boss No. 3. I can get quite passionate about my work and if I was to be a boss in the future it would perhaps be Boss No.2. However, today I reached the end of my tether with my boss. When I first came for the interview to work for him I was promised full training, a pay review after three months, and managementcontrol of my jobs and tasks.
To this day, I haven't seen anything. Full training - his idea of full training was to hand me a book, stick me a corner and ask me to read it for a day. It turned out he didn't even read the book himself. If he did, he would of found that it was utterly useless.
Pay rise? No review after 3 months ever came along. I accepted a decrease to my last job because I was promised full training. After 6 months, I was told that the firm was in tight finanial grips and therefore they could not increase my pay but would like to offer me a bonus to thank me for my work. My bonus? £250 which was also taxed and national insured. My bonus turned out to be a measly £100.
And control and management of my work? Well, that's not happened. Seems I do all the work but have no control. He likes to exert his control and likes to take all the credit.
My point being is that today finally reached my tether. You see, I have been designing something for a client which they have been more than happy with. We won the pitch to work with them last year and again, this year. However, last year we didn't make a profit. Why? Because this client in quesiton is a good friend of my boss and as such he feels they should get preferential treatment in comparison to our other clients.
e.g. Design Time of actual work costed for = 2 days
Design Time of actual work done to which the client loves = 1.5 days however....
I feel we should give our client an extra two days free as we spent 4 days last year and I don't want them to think we are not spending less time with them this year. I would like to give them a variety of options
So infact you are saying - let's spend two days of my time wasting it when it will be a waste time designing more stuff or do changes that the client will not be interested in . This wastes my time when quite in fact it could be used more wisely of things which are actually required.
So last week I spent my two days of design time -I was then made to spend an extra days work doing meaningless changes becuase he wanted to give the client a variety of options. It turns out that he didn't even bother sending through the variety options but one of each. So in fact the client didn't even get to see the variety of options. No only this, put when I asked him which option of each the client decided on, he point blankly lied to me and pretended to read aloud an email which was 'supposively' from the client, deciding on the options. How do I know this? well the pdf which was supposively received from the client was made on the 19th of April at 5:30 pm. This is exactly, 15 min after I gave my options to my boss. We never received an email from the client informing usof their decision until today (23 April 2007).
And that's what pissed me off. I wasted another day of work and was lied to. Normally, being quite a passionate person, I let it all bottle up and blow. This time however, I went past the point of blowing, I realised I was talking calmly and firmly to my boss without even shaking but in a very monotonous tone. I went beyond the point of loosing my cool and turned and walked away. I didn't even want to dignify his presence with a response.
So I came home today and decided then and there that enough was enough. Work is half your life. Work is about developing yourself and working as a team. This job was deevolving me and it is now time to get out.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Rabbits and Foxes
Oh - It's nice to feel sexy again. I've got the jump back into my hop - I'm starting to feel like my old self again! Hooray! I knew I was back in there somewhere!
I do have to say, that not being vain or self centred here - but posting that photograph on the dating sites - well it has done wonders to my confidence. For the past 6 years I was thinking - I'm not good enough, not fit enough, not smart enough - I began to doubt everything that was me. That was my own worst enemy - me. These last couple of weeks I began to realise I am a smart, sexy woman. I am something to be proud of. That feeling - well that feeling feels great.
OK there have been many guys well - who arejust plain weird - there is the accountant who deals in futures and shares but who also reads tarots, palms and reiki (??????). Then there is the stockbroker who asked me if I was into the master and slave thing and asked me whether I would like him to be my master. And I donknmow what it is but I keep getting emails from younger men - and I must say - some of them are bloody hot!
Infact, I was quite naughty and decided to have a bottle of red and my laptop last night and ended up chatting dirty (very naughty I know) but it was soooooooo muuuuuuucchchchchchchch fun!!!!!!!
I do have to say, that not being vain or self centred here - but posting that photograph on the dating sites - well it has done wonders to my confidence. For the past 6 years I was thinking - I'm not good enough, not fit enough, not smart enough - I began to doubt everything that was me. That was my own worst enemy - me. These last couple of weeks I began to realise I am a smart, sexy woman. I am something to be proud of. That feeling - well that feeling feels great.
OK there have been many guys well - who arejust plain weird - there is the accountant who deals in futures and shares but who also reads tarots, palms and reiki (??????). Then there is the stockbroker who asked me if I was into the master and slave thing and asked me whether I would like him to be my master. And I donknmow what it is but I keep getting emails from younger men - and I must say - some of them are bloody hot!
Infact, I was quite naughty and decided to have a bottle of red and my laptop last night and ended up chatting dirty (very naughty I know) but it was soooooooo muuuuuuucchchchchchchch fun!!!!!!!
Monday, January 08, 2007
Witches Brew
Oh God, just got a new German flatmate to replace to Polish flatmate who left just before Christmas - she sounds like cat being strangled permanently - I mean the gal doesn't switch off - don't get me wrong - the gal is very good looking and lovely but when she opens her mouth it sounds like someone has just stepped on a cats tail - I mean the dogs in Hong can hear her - my wee brain - oh the cells....
On another note the other German flatmate decided to show off her 'redecorated room' to be - Jesus Christ - it looks like a harem - gone are the lovely varnished old wooden floors and cream walls replace with see through fabrics, batiks and more see through fabrics, oriental rugs and lots of jos sticks - by golly - her ikea bed spread shouts to be taken into custody - what a beautiful room it used to be - I can to fake my 'oh it's lovely' but I normally am a bad liar - so she probably knows I think it looks - well - it looks like an asylum seeker lives there - now don't get me wrong I have nothing against aylum seekers - but it bloody well looks like an asylum seeker lives there - I am embarrased to invite people around .....
Well, did what my friend W, said and finally posted my photo on the dating site - and he was right - it did work - there a quite a few more, many from the same sort of wankers however the nice guys are starting to show their faces. Basically, we all have to now admit that it is true - the truth is that if you don't post your photo, no matter how good your advert sounds, all the guys ill think you are a moose - I'm not saying I'm stunningly attractive - I'm not that vain - but I am no moose either.
My very drunk french flatmate keeps popping his head round the door and telling me good night - one more and I think I'm going to punch him in the face.
Anyway, going to finish my cuppa and drift off to sleep. Again, I am having problems sleeping - 2 am in the morning, go to bed and ping my eyes are wide awake and then it's up for 8am for work again - and there goes the cycle. Needless to say I'm being really dull now - bloody hell I need a good rodgering.....
OK, goodnight, farewell, au revoir and my french flat mate is now going to get punched.
On another note the other German flatmate decided to show off her 'redecorated room' to be - Jesus Christ - it looks like a harem - gone are the lovely varnished old wooden floors and cream walls replace with see through fabrics, batiks and more see through fabrics, oriental rugs and lots of jos sticks - by golly - her ikea bed spread shouts to be taken into custody - what a beautiful room it used to be - I can to fake my 'oh it's lovely' but I normally am a bad liar - so she probably knows I think it looks - well - it looks like an asylum seeker lives there - now don't get me wrong I have nothing against aylum seekers - but it bloody well looks like an asylum seeker lives there - I am embarrased to invite people around .....
Well, did what my friend W, said and finally posted my photo on the dating site - and he was right - it did work - there a quite a few more, many from the same sort of wankers however the nice guys are starting to show their faces. Basically, we all have to now admit that it is true - the truth is that if you don't post your photo, no matter how good your advert sounds, all the guys ill think you are a moose - I'm not saying I'm stunningly attractive - I'm not that vain - but I am no moose either.
My very drunk french flatmate keeps popping his head round the door and telling me good night - one more and I think I'm going to punch him in the face.
Anyway, going to finish my cuppa and drift off to sleep. Again, I am having problems sleeping - 2 am in the morning, go to bed and ping my eyes are wide awake and then it's up for 8am for work again - and there goes the cycle. Needless to say I'm being really dull now - bloody hell I need a good rodgering.....
OK, goodnight, farewell, au revoir and my french flat mate is now going to get punched.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
BLOCK, BLOCK, BLOCK
I fuckin had it all men are creeps.
Thought I check into the advert which I placed in one of the dating columns on the web. Recieved the following from a 42 year old username daveyduh - who apparently put himself down as living in Edinburgh with a kid in a relationship.
24 December 2006
Hello Lols, figured rather than query what an intertube is (??), I'd go straight for the jugular and ask which arts d'ya go for, like is it say the modern art museum and talbot rice thingy or the national gallery on the mound? Then follow that up with mexico and the Aztecs - like why them and not say Egypt or some of the ancient ruins in Asia?
Did not respond to this as this guy was in a relationship and had a kid.
The next day received the following:
25 December 2006
Well I figured, gazing over the Christmas carnage, that seeing as we both live in the shadow of Arthur's seat I'd have one last attempt (I figure 4 messages would be desperate, 5-6 a bit unnerving and 7+ downright creepy). So what you get for Christmas?
Still didn't respond. Thought he might take the hint and leave me alone.
Then low and behold guess what I received today:
03 January 2007
Please excuse me, I clearly didn't appreciate how special (or is that "wacky" or perhaps just rude), you actually are.
His location was now marked in Bristol. Funny that. Sorry? What was that? Wacky and rude for not responding to someones advert in dating column because they are in a relationship with child? Sorry - Fuck you mate - It's the sort of bastards like you that give men a bad name and so you can't take rejection on the chin so you have to write back and insult to feel better. So your quite happy to screw behind your partner's back - clearly FUCK OFF. BLOCK!!!
I felt so angry - so angry and then I thought to myself - I'm letting that piece of shit ruin my evening - NO.
Then low and behold just after I logged on I get a message from UserID DirtyGirlLover - what have I done to deserve this?
03 January 2007
Hiya babe, luv your profile you sound great. Luv to get to know you a bit better - At the moment I'm looking for no strings fun. Age and looks are unimportant, I just love women. x
WHERE DO I GET THESE TWATS FROM? WHERE DO THEY COME FROM?????????????????????????????????????????????????
Thought I check into the advert which I placed in one of the dating columns on the web. Recieved the following from a 42 year old username daveyduh - who apparently put himself down as living in Edinburgh with a kid in a relationship.
24 December 2006
Hello Lols, figured rather than query what an intertube is (??), I'd go straight for the jugular and ask which arts d'ya go for, like is it say the modern art museum and talbot rice thingy or the national gallery on the mound? Then follow that up with mexico and the Aztecs - like why them and not say Egypt or some of the ancient ruins in Asia?
Did not respond to this as this guy was in a relationship and had a kid.
The next day received the following:
25 December 2006
Well I figured, gazing over the Christmas carnage, that seeing as we both live in the shadow of Arthur's seat I'd have one last attempt (I figure 4 messages would be desperate, 5-6 a bit unnerving and 7+ downright creepy). So what you get for Christmas?
Still didn't respond. Thought he might take the hint and leave me alone.
Then low and behold guess what I received today:
03 January 2007
Please excuse me, I clearly didn't appreciate how special (or is that "wacky" or perhaps just rude), you actually are.
His location was now marked in Bristol. Funny that. Sorry? What was that? Wacky and rude for not responding to someones advert in dating column because they are in a relationship with child? Sorry - Fuck you mate - It's the sort of bastards like you that give men a bad name and so you can't take rejection on the chin so you have to write back and insult to feel better. So your quite happy to screw behind your partner's back - clearly FUCK OFF. BLOCK!!!
I felt so angry - so angry and then I thought to myself - I'm letting that piece of shit ruin my evening - NO.
Then low and behold just after I logged on I get a message from UserID DirtyGirlLover - what have I done to deserve this?
03 January 2007
Hiya babe, luv your profile you sound great. Luv to get to know you a bit better - At the moment I'm looking for no strings fun. Age and looks are unimportant, I just love women. x
WHERE DO I GET THESE TWATS FROM? WHERE DO THEY COME FROM?????????????????????????????????????????????????
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
The Devil's Juice
It's the 02 January - all the phone lines, broadband and tv cables have been down until now so after a million hours of sleep, loads of carrot juice, water and some good food - I'm suddenly beginning to feel my old self again.
I woke up to New Year with an awful hangover and a resolution that I will never drink vodka again. It never used to have this effect on me but since I started to drink it again (used to drink cider but it meant too many calories), it has been having a weird effect on me. I become an irrational bitch who thinks she can conqueror all and I really hate it. Last night, I managed to insult the bar staff as there was no prewarning of the bells - the first time we knew it was New Years was 12.15. I also managed to insult the cloakroom attendant, and a couple of PhD Students who flicked a 50p at me on the street as they were walking past whilst I was having a cigarette outside the club - I think I even managed to piss my mate S off as well. At the end of the evening, I came home and felt so alone that I burst into tears. I was a total bitch that evening - why - god only knows - what the hell came over me? So first thing is first - no more vodka for me. It’s not good.
So a day later, I feel more energised and looking forward to getting back to work. No New Years Resolutions for me this year however I have made an affirmation that I will be more decisive and not let the petty things tie me down. The only person who can control my life is me so I better start taking the reigns rather than hiding underneath the sheets and taking a POSITIVE action.
I managed to find the song that I used to love dancing to in the clubs a while back by Lexicon Avenue. Now, I know there are many of my friends that hate dance music - there is dance music and then there is dance music. All these bo bo bo bo bo with a terrible remake of a classic 80s song pushed on fast forward is not my cup of tea at all. The best way to describe this is that the ultimate dance music is like classical music - for some reason the beat, the tone, you feel this deep emotion, you get lost in the music, it is so euphoric - and I mean euphoric without the addition of drinks and drugs! I could dance and dance and dance and dance - it's amazing -the same is with classical music - it strikes a chord of such raw emotion within you -it's unexplainable.
So anyway - I decided to search out some more about this great DJ set - Lexicon Avenue - see www.lexiconavenue.com. Their sets are ussually played in Newcastle and abroad. So,I am thinking to getting some people down on my birthday down to Newcastle - well my 30th was crap - I got a box of teabags from my boyfriend and a diet book - don't ask - so I've decided I'm going to make up for this one by doing someting different this year. Oh that great song was From Dusk till Dawn - fab - best dance song ever!
I woke up to New Year with an awful hangover and a resolution that I will never drink vodka again. It never used to have this effect on me but since I started to drink it again (used to drink cider but it meant too many calories), it has been having a weird effect on me. I become an irrational bitch who thinks she can conqueror all and I really hate it. Last night, I managed to insult the bar staff as there was no prewarning of the bells - the first time we knew it was New Years was 12.15. I also managed to insult the cloakroom attendant, and a couple of PhD Students who flicked a 50p at me on the street as they were walking past whilst I was having a cigarette outside the club - I think I even managed to piss my mate S off as well. At the end of the evening, I came home and felt so alone that I burst into tears. I was a total bitch that evening - why - god only knows - what the hell came over me? So first thing is first - no more vodka for me. It’s not good.
So a day later, I feel more energised and looking forward to getting back to work. No New Years Resolutions for me this year however I have made an affirmation that I will be more decisive and not let the petty things tie me down. The only person who can control my life is me so I better start taking the reigns rather than hiding underneath the sheets and taking a POSITIVE action.
I managed to find the song that I used to love dancing to in the clubs a while back by Lexicon Avenue. Now, I know there are many of my friends that hate dance music - there is dance music and then there is dance music. All these bo bo bo bo bo with a terrible remake of a classic 80s song pushed on fast forward is not my cup of tea at all. The best way to describe this is that the ultimate dance music is like classical music - for some reason the beat, the tone, you feel this deep emotion, you get lost in the music, it is so euphoric - and I mean euphoric without the addition of drinks and drugs! I could dance and dance and dance and dance - it's amazing -the same is with classical music - it strikes a chord of such raw emotion within you -it's unexplainable.
So anyway - I decided to search out some more about this great DJ set - Lexicon Avenue - see www.lexiconavenue.com. Their sets are ussually played in Newcastle and abroad. So,I am thinking to getting some people down on my birthday down to Newcastle - well my 30th was crap - I got a box of teabags from my boyfriend and a diet book - don't ask - so I've decided I'm going to make up for this one by doing someting different this year. Oh that great song was From Dusk till Dawn - fab - best dance song ever!
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