I appear to be writing on my blog every 3 months - probably even more but whatever.
I felt drawn to write today as something is really bothering me - at that is the subject of ex's - and the reason is this.
Every relationship I seem to get into (well the good ones that is) there always seems to be an ex that pops back into the scenario.
Example No. 1: James from Glasgow
James was a guy who was doing a PhD at the Welcome in Glasgow Uni. When we met - he left his PhD - well had dropped - that was before we met. He got married to a gal in Glasgow and well they separated. Any how we met on the internet. All was going well until the ex came back into the pic - apparently she wanted him back and well he went back.
Example No. 2 David from Glasgow
David was programmer originally from Forres. We also met on the internet. David had broken up with his ex Fran 6 months prior to us meeting - they had been together for 6 years and were living together. He had a nervous breakdown because he tended to work too hard and she ditched him. So everything was going swell - he seemed so lovely and romantic and I fell hard - he asked me to marry him two weeks later. I remember when we went to go so some friends of mine in London and he mouthed the words 'I love you' to me. I couldn't understand what he was saying and sort of translated them as 'I need a poo'. Anyway - we moved into together and low and behodl his ex split with her fella and wanted David back. And low and behold everything fell apart. Needless to say he went out one night and slept with her, came back and told me. I told him that was that and I was moving out. He later asked me to go back out with him when I came back to pick some stuff from his flat. He then also came round the pub where I was working one night to see me. But if a guy can cheat on you once, well he could do it again. And yet again there was three in the relationship.
Example No. 3
Richy from Glasgow
Richy had a ex girlfriend from a while back who turned her head back in the pub one night and I guess that she as well wanted him back. Boy did she pretend to be my best friend and then one night I saw the light when she snorted a whole lot of charlie. Charlie tends to show the truthful side of persons personalities.
Example No. 4
My current boyfriend's ex has now decided to pop her lovely face back into the scene. Quite frankly I am tired of all this palava. I love my boyfriend to bits and would do anything for him however where there are ex's are concerned well that is a different story. His ex had basically cheated on my boyfriend whils they were going out (they were going out with each other for 6 years and living together) and one night came home and said she didn't love him anymore and had met someone else (also called Steve) - well this year - her and Steve were spose to get married and guess what - it never happened. So she decided to move from Dundee to Musselbourough which is a 15 min drive from Edinburgh. She kept phoning him when we were away for the weekend. He was so lovely and surprised me and was so romantic. Then he mentioned that her sister and herself were wanting to go out with us for lunch. Sorry??? You want me to go out to lunch with your ex? NO. Well I didn't verbally say no, I sort of went silent and probably my face said it all. That night I had a horrible dream that my boyfriend was being flirtatous with anothe woman right infront of my face and started snogging her and I sort of lost my temper and threw a glass of red wine at him. We argued like fuck. I woke up to find myself all short breathed and cold sweats. Why - because in reality we never had an argument in our life. This week I have become ratty and short tempered and I have realised why I have become so short tempered. I am worried that maybe just my boyfriend will want to get back with his ex.
Now sitting her and typing I have realised that in this dream I have imalganated past episodes of my life. With James, I calmly wrote an email saying that we were not meant to be. With David, I came home to find out that he was not being straight with me and threw a glass of red wine at him. With Richy - well Richy was always one for the ladies and wouldn't care displaying this infront of my face.
I am in fear of the ex. I am in fear that I will never overcome this fear. I am in fear that this fear will take away the person I love and care the most in my life.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Monday, September 17, 2007
Lies make you ill
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.
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.
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!
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Trust
Call me gullible, call me stupid - but every now and then I flick through Jonathan Cainers site and read my stars. For some reason - I can relate to them. He had a new tarot thing on where you could get your cards read so, to heck with it, I thought - for £4.75 lets have a reading.
So, I did - you see you have to concentrate and see clarity before you ask your question. Now I could be a realist here, like my good friend W, and start to think well these things rely on probability etc etc. However, I could also let my trust lie in these for once and see what happens. Afterall, with the element of probability, for example the lottery, to win - you have a one in 40 million chance - well something like that - ok there's the maths - the more tickets you buy the greater chance you have to win. But what is the probability that you are going to be that one in 40 million - it could be anyone - what is the probability that you will choose certain numbers? An element of fate must also play a part.
My dear friend W, say I suffer from pollyanna syndrome where whenever something bad happens, I try to look at it through rose tinted glasses. I have argued this with him. In order for something bad to happen, it could be fate, it could be yourself what you have done to bring yourself to these circumstances, and therefore with the logical side, you learn from your mistakes which has brought you to these circumstances, and you go forth without repeating those same mistakes again. You learn from your experiences - isn't that what is all about?
There is no use staying with the past. What has happened, has happened, and you get on with life. The other scenario is - for example, a bird flying past has done an enormous white shite on your head. To take the former into consideration, your mistakes to lead to this event would be
- that you left the house
- that you didn't hold some gps navigation system on you at all times, to dissect the area to make sure no birds fly in your zone.
-that you didn't constantly look above you to make sure no bird was in your path
- that you didn't shoot all birds or create some kind of virus that wipes the whole bird population out of existence.
This would, in turn, lead to an obsessive compulsive disorder - you would turn into a wacko.
Even if you had done all these things, who cannot say that a dog willl piss on your shoes one day whilst your walking past. So, in part an element of risk/fate is always involved.
What is risk? What is fate?
Risk.
–noun
1.Exposure to the chance of injury or loss; a hazard or dangerous chance: It's not worth the risk.
2.Insurance. a. the hazard or chance of loss; b. the degree of probability of such loss; c. the amount that the insurance company may lose; d. a person or thing with reference to the hazard involved in insuring him, her, or it; e. the type of loss, as life, fire, marine disaster, or earthquake, against which an insurance policy is drawn. –verb (used with object)
3. To expose to the chance of injury or loss; hazard: to risk one's life.
4. To venture upon; take or run the chance of: to risk a fall in climbing; to risk a war. —Idioms
5. At risk, a.in a dangerous situation or status; in jeopardy: families at risk in the area of the weakened dam; b.under financial or legal obligation; held responsible: Are individual investors at risk for the debt part of the real estate venture?
6. Take or run a risk, to expose oneself to the chance of injury or loss; put oneself in danger; hazard; venture.
Fate
–noun
1. Something that unavoidably befalls a person; fortune; lot: It is always his fate to be left behind.
2. The universal principle or ultimate agency by which the order of things is presumably prescribed; the decreed cause of events; time: Fate decreed that they would never meet again.
3. That which is inevitably predetermined; destiny: Death is our ineluctable fate.
4. A prophetic declaration of what must be: The oracle pronounced their fate.
5. Death, destruction, or ruin.
6. The Fates, Classical Mythology. the three goddesses of destiny, known to the Greeks as the Moerae and to the Romans as the Parcae.
So in essence, we can predetermine risk, by heck - the laws of project management - but we cannot predetermine fate.
Anyway back to the tarot - I won't say what the question I asked was - but what I will say is these - to summarise - I have always been on my guard - to ensure that I act in accordance to certain things and certain situations. I have always been scared to take risks. I have always mistrusted. And that is where the core problem lies. I am constantly worrying about what could happen and constantly worrying about the negative outcomes that in the end they will happen. For once, I need to relax, go with the flow, take each day as it comes, and let myself be pleasantly surprised. More importantly, I need to start to relax and start to trust people - afterall if I can trust a stupid tarot card reading, I should certainly be able to place my trust in things alot more? If I don't start to trust things more, I will hold myself back - I may never experience some of those wonderful things that could happen if I didn't hold back.
So, I did - you see you have to concentrate and see clarity before you ask your question. Now I could be a realist here, like my good friend W, and start to think well these things rely on probability etc etc. However, I could also let my trust lie in these for once and see what happens. Afterall, with the element of probability, for example the lottery, to win - you have a one in 40 million chance - well something like that - ok there's the maths - the more tickets you buy the greater chance you have to win. But what is the probability that you are going to be that one in 40 million - it could be anyone - what is the probability that you will choose certain numbers? An element of fate must also play a part.
My dear friend W, say I suffer from pollyanna syndrome where whenever something bad happens, I try to look at it through rose tinted glasses. I have argued this with him. In order for something bad to happen, it could be fate, it could be yourself what you have done to bring yourself to these circumstances, and therefore with the logical side, you learn from your mistakes which has brought you to these circumstances, and you go forth without repeating those same mistakes again. You learn from your experiences - isn't that what is all about?
There is no use staying with the past. What has happened, has happened, and you get on with life. The other scenario is - for example, a bird flying past has done an enormous white shite on your head. To take the former into consideration, your mistakes to lead to this event would be
- that you left the house
- that you didn't hold some gps navigation system on you at all times, to dissect the area to make sure no birds fly in your zone.
-that you didn't constantly look above you to make sure no bird was in your path
- that you didn't shoot all birds or create some kind of virus that wipes the whole bird population out of existence.
This would, in turn, lead to an obsessive compulsive disorder - you would turn into a wacko.
Even if you had done all these things, who cannot say that a dog willl piss on your shoes one day whilst your walking past. So, in part an element of risk/fate is always involved.
What is risk? What is fate?
Risk.
–noun
1.Exposure to the chance of injury or loss; a hazard or dangerous chance: It's not worth the risk.
2.Insurance. a. the hazard or chance of loss; b. the degree of probability of such loss; c. the amount that the insurance company may lose; d. a person or thing with reference to the hazard involved in insuring him, her, or it; e. the type of loss, as life, fire, marine disaster, or earthquake, against which an insurance policy is drawn. –verb (used with object)
3. To expose to the chance of injury or loss; hazard: to risk one's life.
4. To venture upon; take or run the chance of: to risk a fall in climbing; to risk a war. —Idioms
5. At risk, a.in a dangerous situation or status; in jeopardy: families at risk in the area of the weakened dam; b.under financial or legal obligation; held responsible: Are individual investors at risk for the debt part of the real estate venture?
6. Take or run a risk, to expose oneself to the chance of injury or loss; put oneself in danger; hazard; venture.
Fate
–noun
1. Something that unavoidably befalls a person; fortune; lot: It is always his fate to be left behind.
2. The universal principle or ultimate agency by which the order of things is presumably prescribed; the decreed cause of events; time: Fate decreed that they would never meet again.
3. That which is inevitably predetermined; destiny: Death is our ineluctable fate.
4. A prophetic declaration of what must be: The oracle pronounced their fate.
5. Death, destruction, or ruin.
6. The Fates, Classical Mythology. the three goddesses of destiny, known to the Greeks as the Moerae and to the Romans as the Parcae.
So in essence, we can predetermine risk, by heck - the laws of project management - but we cannot predetermine fate.
Anyway back to the tarot - I won't say what the question I asked was - but what I will say is these - to summarise - I have always been on my guard - to ensure that I act in accordance to certain things and certain situations. I have always been scared to take risks. I have always mistrusted. And that is where the core problem lies. I am constantly worrying about what could happen and constantly worrying about the negative outcomes that in the end they will happen. For once, I need to relax, go with the flow, take each day as it comes, and let myself be pleasantly surprised. More importantly, I need to start to relax and start to trust people - afterall if I can trust a stupid tarot card reading, I should certainly be able to place my trust in things alot more? If I don't start to trust things more, I will hold myself back - I may never experience some of those wonderful things that could happen if I didn't hold back.
Friday, December 29, 2006
Bills
Well just finished calculating all the bills and sorting everything for council tax payment tomorrow. Hate doing this - but - has to be done!
Had a haircut at Toni and Guys (the first time in Edinburgh) and I must admit the guy who cut my hair did a fabulous job and was so kind - I was so happy, I gave him a £10 tip - he was so shocked and surprised - didn't want to take it at first - but I told him to as I was really happy with my hair. Definately recommend getting a guy to cut your hair if your a gal - they normally end up doing a great job. Crikey -I was so shocked - total turnaround from the Toni & Guys in Glasgow where the midget mod/punk bitchy girl stylists charge you twice as much and stand round you expecting a huge tip . I guess they have to fuel their coke habits in some way.
Had a chat with W last night with respect to my dilemma - he thinks I'm point blank stupid and I should text B and invite him for a drink and if the whole world starts to gossip then so be it.
I mentioned that I thought it would be bad etiquette - it wouldn't be fair on R - he told me the whole world is unfair and I should do things which put me first for a change. So if I wanted to go out for a drink I should go. Simply go -
The other thing that was bugging me was that I wanted a clean break from Glasgow and that arena of people - the reason I moved to Edinburgh was to start afresh on a new slate. Oh I don't know - I appear to find an excuse for everything. I can say that after living in Edinburgh for a month, I went back to Glasgow for a couple of hours for work. I felt such a distaste and sense of displeasure about the place that I was so happy to have moved out. Glasgow wasn't for me. I knew that first month in 1998 when I first moved there. Edinburgh on the other hand is such a delight.
Trying to figure out where we are going to spend New Years -we've decided on doing a pub crawl starting at the Festival Tavern and then heading off to the jazz club afterwards.
Right - quiet one - going to head off to bed now and do my chores for tomorrow.
Had a haircut at Toni and Guys (the first time in Edinburgh) and I must admit the guy who cut my hair did a fabulous job and was so kind - I was so happy, I gave him a £10 tip - he was so shocked and surprised - didn't want to take it at first - but I told him to as I was really happy with my hair. Definately recommend getting a guy to cut your hair if your a gal - they normally end up doing a great job. Crikey -I was so shocked - total turnaround from the Toni & Guys in Glasgow where the midget mod/punk bitchy girl stylists charge you twice as much and stand round you expecting a huge tip . I guess they have to fuel their coke habits in some way.
Had a chat with W last night with respect to my dilemma - he thinks I'm point blank stupid and I should text B and invite him for a drink and if the whole world starts to gossip then so be it.
I mentioned that I thought it would be bad etiquette - it wouldn't be fair on R - he told me the whole world is unfair and I should do things which put me first for a change. So if I wanted to go out for a drink I should go. Simply go -
The other thing that was bugging me was that I wanted a clean break from Glasgow and that arena of people - the reason I moved to Edinburgh was to start afresh on a new slate. Oh I don't know - I appear to find an excuse for everything. I can say that after living in Edinburgh for a month, I went back to Glasgow for a couple of hours for work. I felt such a distaste and sense of displeasure about the place that I was so happy to have moved out. Glasgow wasn't for me. I knew that first month in 1998 when I first moved there. Edinburgh on the other hand is such a delight.
Trying to figure out where we are going to spend New Years -we've decided on doing a pub crawl starting at the Festival Tavern and then heading off to the jazz club afterwards.
Right - quiet one - going to head off to bed now and do my chores for tomorrow.
Bills
Well just finished calculating all the bills and sorting everything for council tax payment tomorrow. Hate doing this - but - has to be done!
Had a haircut at Toni and Guys (the first time in Edinburgh) and I must admit the guy who cut my hair did a fabulous job and was so kind - I was so happy, I gave him a £10 tip - he was so shocked and surprised - didn't want to take it at first - but I told him to as I was really happy with my hair. Definately recommend getting a guy to cut your hair if your a gal - they normally end up doing a great job. Crikey -I was so shocked - total turnaround from the Toni & Guys in Glasgow where the midget mod/punk bitchy girl stylists charge you twice as much and stand round you expecting a huge tip . I guess they have to fuel their coke habits in some way.
Had a chat with W last night with respect to my dilemma - he thinks I'm point blank stupid and I should text B and invite him for a drink and if the whole world starts to gossip then so be it.
I mentioned that I thought it would be bad etiquette - it wouldn't be fair on R - he told me the whole world is unfair and I should do things which put me first for a change. So said I would text at some point - he's right.
Trying to figure out where we are going to spend New Years -we've decided on doing a pub crawl starting at the Festival Tavern and then heading off to the jazz club afterwards.
Right - quiet one - going to head off to bed now and do my chores for tomorrow.
Had a haircut at Toni and Guys (the first time in Edinburgh) and I must admit the guy who cut my hair did a fabulous job and was so kind - I was so happy, I gave him a £10 tip - he was so shocked and surprised - didn't want to take it at first - but I told him to as I was really happy with my hair. Definately recommend getting a guy to cut your hair if your a gal - they normally end up doing a great job. Crikey -I was so shocked - total turnaround from the Toni & Guys in Glasgow where the midget mod/punk bitchy girl stylists charge you twice as much and stand round you expecting a huge tip . I guess they have to fuel their coke habits in some way.
Had a chat with W last night with respect to my dilemma - he thinks I'm point blank stupid and I should text B and invite him for a drink and if the whole world starts to gossip then so be it.
I mentioned that I thought it would be bad etiquette - it wouldn't be fair on R - he told me the whole world is unfair and I should do things which put me first for a change. So said I would text at some point - he's right.
Trying to figure out where we are going to spend New Years -we've decided on doing a pub crawl starting at the Festival Tavern and then heading off to the jazz club afterwards.
Right - quiet one - going to head off to bed now and do my chores for tomorrow.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Married Guys
Just been out for a couple of drinks with a workmate and discussed the normal work prevalities and relationships. Came back home, stuffed my face with rye bread, bresola and camembourg and received a message from the dating ads from a married guy. My response back was - hey - your married - best not to proceed further.
He also had kids.
Which comes to the next question - why do married men with kids insist on finding a fling through the bar or dating ads?
Why? You are married - you have kids - COMMUNICATE - get a divorce before you go on one on these things. Don't bring someone into your complicated world.
He also had kids.
Which comes to the next question - why do married men with kids insist on finding a fling through the bar or dating ads?
Why? You are married - you have kids - COMMUNICATE - get a divorce before you go on one on these things. Don't bring someone into your complicated world.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
No More Fake Guccis
I took today to reflect over yesterday's events. A brisk walk to the shops and looking through the sales and I kept thinking to myself - why am I not allowing myself to do the things I want just because there is someone in the corner bitching behind my back. I have always withheld from doing something just in case so in so says this and so and so says that. By the time I reached the middle of Princes Street - I was in full blown anger stomping mode.
During my breakup with R, his sister and her bestmate had said to him, they didn't understand why someone like me works so hard - they coudn't understand that me - actually loved what I did and was prepared to work more than the 9-5.30 weekly routine. So they basically told my ex that basically I was shit at everything hence why I work longer than the normal hours or I was working the normal hours but someone else was involved. Every so often sweet nothings were whispered in his ear and every so often the 'Hi L, oh you look so wonderful' in that false sickly sweet note that makes you want to excuse yourself and become bulimic. I got an email from her the day I moved out - Oh and his mother even phoned - one month after we broke up and they decide to call - it was like their last attempt to dig a knife in my back. I deleted the email and on the phone - I was polite - said my goodbyes and wished them all the best.
You see it always seemed to amaze me how these people would pretend to their best friends that they were the best thing on sliced bread but were so quick to slag them off when their backs were turned. For example, R's sister - well she had a good friend since school that was the first of their group of friends to get married. Amazing how one person gets married they all want to get married and pop kids. Well R's sister had just broken up with a long term boyfriend at the time. Her friend getting married had said to her 'Don't worry, it'll be your turn soon'.
Now I don't think her friend was being spiteful here. But a year after she got married I was sitting at the table of 16 people talking to R's sister who had no qualms in letting everyone know that this girl's husband was cheating on her even before they got married with another one of their best friends. The thing that really got me was - she had no qualms to discuss and publicise this matter with everyone - except her friend. Me, it's none of my business - I would not mention it to my friend unless she had a whiff and decided something was up. Otherwise, it's not my business to discuss - either with my friend or anyone else for that matter.
There were many occasions and many different scenarios - point being that I learned not to discuss my personal business with these people - it was another way of becoming a Z list celebrity who had fallen face first in the mud. Every so often, I would get invited on the girly weekend, and always I was asked the personal questions, ones that I chose not to discuss and would tell them so and change the subject. You see, my personal life is my private life and having someone come up to you pretending they care and then once you turn your back take great pride in publicising your matters, well quite frankly those type of people can fuck off.
So you see, when the whole episode of me supposedly stalking B took forth, they took great delight in cackling their gossip left right and centre. I was even asked at a party - have you seen B lately - to which I retorted - no , I haven't and quite frankly I'm not interested in talking to him if he he spends his time spreading such ridiculous shit about me. I felt I had to stand up for myself - fuck - I was trying to defend myself against something I didn't do. I really wouldn't be surprised if one of those people in that group of friends decided to stir something up.
Anyway, point being here, is that I think too much and by the time I reached the bottom of Princes Street. I was fuming. I was letting what people were saying and thinking getting in the way of how I chose to deal with my everyday life. I was angry because I was letting this happen. You see, at the end of the day realised. Fuck them. Fuck the lot of them. Why should I care what they think about me. These people who pull you down. I let them govern the decisions I make in my life. They start to make you feel so insecure that your not good enough, not smart enough, not pretty enough, not .. the list goes on. These people are not friends like the few true ones that I have - and those true ones - they accept me warts and all - they don't judge, they say what they feel straight to your face. There's no beating round the bush. If I do something wrong - they let me know. And as I reached the bottom of Princes Street - I felt so lucky. I may not be surrounded my millions and trillions of people, I may not be Miss Popular, but I am lucky to have those few good friends. And those few people are more precious than surrounding yourself with the fake Gucci's of friendship. I was so lucky indeed.
During my breakup with R, his sister and her bestmate had said to him, they didn't understand why someone like me works so hard - they coudn't understand that me - actually loved what I did and was prepared to work more than the 9-5.30 weekly routine. So they basically told my ex that basically I was shit at everything hence why I work longer than the normal hours or I was working the normal hours but someone else was involved. Every so often sweet nothings were whispered in his ear and every so often the 'Hi L, oh you look so wonderful' in that false sickly sweet note that makes you want to excuse yourself and become bulimic. I got an email from her the day I moved out - Oh and his mother even phoned - one month after we broke up and they decide to call - it was like their last attempt to dig a knife in my back. I deleted the email and on the phone - I was polite - said my goodbyes and wished them all the best.
You see it always seemed to amaze me how these people would pretend to their best friends that they were the best thing on sliced bread but were so quick to slag them off when their backs were turned. For example, R's sister - well she had a good friend since school that was the first of their group of friends to get married. Amazing how one person gets married they all want to get married and pop kids. Well R's sister had just broken up with a long term boyfriend at the time. Her friend getting married had said to her 'Don't worry, it'll be your turn soon'.
Now I don't think her friend was being spiteful here. But a year after she got married I was sitting at the table of 16 people talking to R's sister who had no qualms in letting everyone know that this girl's husband was cheating on her even before they got married with another one of their best friends. The thing that really got me was - she had no qualms to discuss and publicise this matter with everyone - except her friend. Me, it's none of my business - I would not mention it to my friend unless she had a whiff and decided something was up. Otherwise, it's not my business to discuss - either with my friend or anyone else for that matter.
There were many occasions and many different scenarios - point being that I learned not to discuss my personal business with these people - it was another way of becoming a Z list celebrity who had fallen face first in the mud. Every so often, I would get invited on the girly weekend, and always I was asked the personal questions, ones that I chose not to discuss and would tell them so and change the subject. You see, my personal life is my private life and having someone come up to you pretending they care and then once you turn your back take great pride in publicising your matters, well quite frankly those type of people can fuck off.
So you see, when the whole episode of me supposedly stalking B took forth, they took great delight in cackling their gossip left right and centre. I was even asked at a party - have you seen B lately - to which I retorted - no , I haven't and quite frankly I'm not interested in talking to him if he he spends his time spreading such ridiculous shit about me. I felt I had to stand up for myself - fuck - I was trying to defend myself against something I didn't do. I really wouldn't be surprised if one of those people in that group of friends decided to stir something up.
Anyway, point being here, is that I think too much and by the time I reached the bottom of Princes Street. I was fuming. I was letting what people were saying and thinking getting in the way of how I chose to deal with my everyday life. I was angry because I was letting this happen. You see, at the end of the day realised. Fuck them. Fuck the lot of them. Why should I care what they think about me. These people who pull you down. I let them govern the decisions I make in my life. They start to make you feel so insecure that your not good enough, not smart enough, not pretty enough, not .. the list goes on. These people are not friends like the few true ones that I have - and those true ones - they accept me warts and all - they don't judge, they say what they feel straight to your face. There's no beating round the bush. If I do something wrong - they let me know. And as I reached the bottom of Princes Street - I felt so lucky. I may not be surrounded my millions and trillions of people, I may not be Miss Popular, but I am lucky to have those few good friends. And those few people are more precious than surrounding yourself with the fake Gucci's of friendship. I was so lucky indeed.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Jonathan Cainer
Ok - So tonight I'm writin two blogs - I went out ot the pub thinking I could get a quiet drink whilst reading my paper. Trouble is at the bottom end of Leith that doesn't work - apparently it means your readyfor business.
So went home after being succumbed to men sitting beside me flicking their bloody lighters - Scotland is a no smoking zone so why is a guy sitting there flicking his light next to his groin - not once - not twice - I can tell you for the umpteeempth time. I had to keep my eyes stared ,reading at the queens Xmas day speech. Grotesque.
I left my full glass on wine there I only had two sips - and the wine was foul anyway. I went home.
But in those last two minutes, I read my star sign done by Jonathan Cainer,'
Aries (Mar 21 - Apr 20)
'A FRIEND who is sometimes much nearer than one who is at hand. 'Is not the mountain far more awe-inspiring and more clearly visible to one passing through the valley than those who inhabit the mountain?' It's not always easy to find inspiration in the overly familiar. When you stand back and look from a distance,though you often realise much more about what's truly good in your world. Today brings precious perspective. It also brings a timely reminder about a true friend.'
I'm acutally starting to realise maybe those words could be true.
So went home after being succumbed to men sitting beside me flicking their bloody lighters - Scotland is a no smoking zone so why is a guy sitting there flicking his light next to his groin - not once - not twice - I can tell you for the umpteeempth time. I had to keep my eyes stared ,reading at the queens Xmas day speech. Grotesque.
I left my full glass on wine there I only had two sips - and the wine was foul anyway. I went home.
But in those last two minutes, I read my star sign done by Jonathan Cainer,'
Aries (Mar 21 - Apr 20)
'A FRIEND who is sometimes much nearer than one who is at hand. 'Is not the mountain far more awe-inspiring and more clearly visible to one passing through the valley than those who inhabit the mountain?' It's not always easy to find inspiration in the overly familiar. When you stand back and look from a distance,though you often realise much more about what's truly good in your world. Today brings precious perspective. It also brings a timely reminder about a true friend.'
I'm acutally starting to realise maybe those words could be true.
Alice in Wonderland
Well, it's Boxing Day - Imanaged to sleep over Xmas Day and sleep over Boxing Day - wanted to peruse the sales at 12 but then gotup and thought bugger this and went back to bed.
Got up at 5 - had a shower - straightened my hair and got a text from an unknown number.
'Merry Christmas to Ye! Heading up leith for ales if you are about '
Texted back,
'Sorry - who are u?'
Got,
'Wascally Wabbit', back.
Five minutes later another text came through,
'B'.
Well I can tell you I really fancied a pint (actually to be honest a glass of wine wouldn't go amiss, but then I thought to myself, hang on a minute Ms. Stadler, we've been here before - we've nto deciphered this whole episode of stalking and to tell you the truth - out of all honesty, even though my boyfriend and I broke up I still felt some loyalty to him. I mean you don't do that to your ex. I remember him saying,
'It is going to break my heart when you start going out with someone else'
and I broke into tears when he said this. So no matter how much I had cared for my friendship with B, my head was saying to me, well what if it was B spreading all those rumours? Can you really trust him? I mean - we're just friends but if R found out about this - a drink between friends - crikey - all hell would break loose - before you know it I'm going to end up being called that 'finion thing by his friends and family. Oh Bloody hell.
It sounds terrible, I know - but could I really trust him - if I went out for a pint - who knows all these things could get spreaded about me and B which weren't true - as always - but things like that you don't want to get back to your ex -yep - their untrue - so your thinking who the fuck cares - your probably even thinking my ex isn't going to care. Maybe I'm too fuckin nice. Jesus.
So I texted back,
'Oh Sorry! Merry XMas! Little Alice's liver is feigning defeat tonight - perhaps another time - have a good one'
and got back.
'Ha Ha - No Probs'
Safe and Boring. OK, after getting into the shower, doing my hair, having a glass of vino calapso I then felt - you know what I do want to go out. I'm sitting here considering going to that grotty bar across the road and having a pint. Damn me being Catholic - I mean I don't practice - but hell I start to feel guilty even when I haven't done anything wrong. I'm actually considering texting back and saying - you know what bugger this where are u. But I can't - reason being - even going out for a pint with a mate - crikey - I've broken up with my ex - it's been three months - I know we'll never get back together - I don't want to get back together - I've started to feel that kick in my soul that I once had before - that seemed to die and go away into the last years of my relationship. My God, my life is going so well - but here I am feeling - I owe this to my friend - my ex - now typing this and rereading this, I'm thinking, 'Hang on a mo, Miss Stadler - r u stupid?' Fuck - I need another glass of wine.
I mean if his whole episode of stalking business never came forth then gladly I would go out for a drink - but how am I to know the truth here - this business between R and B - great they'd make a good soul tune - anyway - who the fuck do I believe here?
Got up at 5 - had a shower - straightened my hair and got a text from an unknown number.
'Merry Christmas to Ye! Heading up leith for ales if you are about '
Texted back,
'Sorry - who are u?'
Got,
'Wascally Wabbit', back.
Five minutes later another text came through,
'B'.
Well I can tell you I really fancied a pint (actually to be honest a glass of wine wouldn't go amiss, but then I thought to myself, hang on a minute Ms. Stadler, we've been here before - we've nto deciphered this whole episode of stalking and to tell you the truth - out of all honesty, even though my boyfriend and I broke up I still felt some loyalty to him. I mean you don't do that to your ex. I remember him saying,
'It is going to break my heart when you start going out with someone else'
and I broke into tears when he said this. So no matter how much I had cared for my friendship with B, my head was saying to me, well what if it was B spreading all those rumours? Can you really trust him? I mean - we're just friends but if R found out about this - a drink between friends - crikey - all hell would break loose - before you know it I'm going to end up being called that 'finion thing by his friends and family. Oh Bloody hell.
It sounds terrible, I know - but could I really trust him - if I went out for a pint - who knows all these things could get spreaded about me and B which weren't true - as always - but things like that you don't want to get back to your ex -yep - their untrue - so your thinking who the fuck cares - your probably even thinking my ex isn't going to care. Maybe I'm too fuckin nice. Jesus.
So I texted back,
'Oh Sorry! Merry XMas! Little Alice's liver is feigning defeat tonight - perhaps another time - have a good one'
and got back.
'Ha Ha - No Probs'
Safe and Boring. OK, after getting into the shower, doing my hair, having a glass of vino calapso I then felt - you know what I do want to go out. I'm sitting here considering going to that grotty bar across the road and having a pint. Damn me being Catholic - I mean I don't practice - but hell I start to feel guilty even when I haven't done anything wrong. I'm actually considering texting back and saying - you know what bugger this where are u. But I can't - reason being - even going out for a pint with a mate - crikey - I've broken up with my ex - it's been three months - I know we'll never get back together - I don't want to get back together - I've started to feel that kick in my soul that I once had before - that seemed to die and go away into the last years of my relationship. My God, my life is going so well - but here I am feeling - I owe this to my friend - my ex - now typing this and rereading this, I'm thinking, 'Hang on a mo, Miss Stadler - r u stupid?' Fuck - I need another glass of wine.
I mean if his whole episode of stalking business never came forth then gladly I would go out for a drink - but how am I to know the truth here - this business between R and B - great they'd make a good soul tune - anyway - who the fuck do I believe here?
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Regrets
I've had a couple of hours here now on Xmas Eve where I've just been sitting and thinking. Now I know too much thinking for me is not good. But, these couple of hours were just thinking if I had done things differently in particular situations in the past would the outcomes be the same or would they be different. I know I can't go back and change the past - but being the New Year coming up and it being 2008, I want to be able to learn from my mistakes so I don't repeat them. So here are things which I would of done differently;
I wouldn't have slammed the phone down on my mother one morning in the lab in early 1999. I received a letter from her a week later to say that she was going on holiday somewhere for a long time and not to bother contacting her. So me, being me thought this was a ploy just to get me to call - and angrily I did. You see we fell out a year back - I never told her I was going to go to Glasgow to do a PhD. She found out from one of my work colleagues. Her last words to me before I left to go to Glasgow were - Don't go to Glasgow - you'll make the biggest mistake in your life. I guess I did. Anyway - I made that phone call only to find out that she rented the house out - to this day - the same people are renting that house - an architect oddly enough. Her words to them was that she was going to stay with her daughter in Edinburgh. I don't know whether it's fate but eight years later I have now moved to Edinburgh. To this day, I don't know where she is. I thought I had found her at one point, but it turned out to be a woman with the same name and birthdate who oddly enough was also Polish but it wasn't her. Crikey, I delivered cards and flowers to this woman - she must of thought someone was stalking her. So there you go. I'm not going to go into why we really fell out in the first instance - that is another barrell of fish altogether - but my biggest regret in life - not being able to say I'm sorry to her. And not being able to say thank you to her for being the best mother a child could have in the world. My biggest regret is not having the chance to let her know that.
Will finish there as need to go but no doubt will have more to add tomorrow.
I wouldn't have slammed the phone down on my mother one morning in the lab in early 1999. I received a letter from her a week later to say that she was going on holiday somewhere for a long time and not to bother contacting her. So me, being me thought this was a ploy just to get me to call - and angrily I did. You see we fell out a year back - I never told her I was going to go to Glasgow to do a PhD. She found out from one of my work colleagues. Her last words to me before I left to go to Glasgow were - Don't go to Glasgow - you'll make the biggest mistake in your life. I guess I did. Anyway - I made that phone call only to find out that she rented the house out - to this day - the same people are renting that house - an architect oddly enough. Her words to them was that she was going to stay with her daughter in Edinburgh. I don't know whether it's fate but eight years later I have now moved to Edinburgh. To this day, I don't know where she is. I thought I had found her at one point, but it turned out to be a woman with the same name and birthdate who oddly enough was also Polish but it wasn't her. Crikey, I delivered cards and flowers to this woman - she must of thought someone was stalking her. So there you go. I'm not going to go into why we really fell out in the first instance - that is another barrell of fish altogether - but my biggest regret in life - not being able to say I'm sorry to her. And not being able to say thank you to her for being the best mother a child could have in the world. My biggest regret is not having the chance to let her know that.
Will finish there as need to go but no doubt will have more to add tomorrow.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Thanks
Well I have to say I've been taken aback.
I sent out all my Christmas cards out on the 22nd at 5pm - just got to the postoffice and a grouchy clerk served me - wouldn't even put them in the post office box for me - made me go to the post box on the corner to post them so I thought hey - told me they wouldn't arrive before Xmas unless I wanted to spend seven quid posting each one. As always me I thought - everyone will get their cards late - as usual. But low and behold they turned up on everyone's doorsteps the next morning.
So to my surprise at 10pm this evening, as I was cleaning my toilet - I received a text - from my ex - thanking me for the Xmas card and wishing me a very merry xmas from him and the wee one ( the wee one being our cat Rupert). I burst into tears.
You might think - me soppy - not gotten over it - true I haven't gotten over it - it takes time. But you see the reason I burst into tears was because this was the first time - the first time in six years of going out with him and the aftermath that he actually said thank you to me on his own accord. Without anyone standing there prodding him - without me having to go into a huge huff - without me having to spend a fortune on Barbour jackets - he did it just like that - and that - out of everything and all the Merry Xmas' - meant alot.
I sent out all my Christmas cards out on the 22nd at 5pm - just got to the postoffice and a grouchy clerk served me - wouldn't even put them in the post office box for me - made me go to the post box on the corner to post them so I thought hey - told me they wouldn't arrive before Xmas unless I wanted to spend seven quid posting each one. As always me I thought - everyone will get their cards late - as usual. But low and behold they turned up on everyone's doorsteps the next morning.
So to my surprise at 10pm this evening, as I was cleaning my toilet - I received a text - from my ex - thanking me for the Xmas card and wishing me a very merry xmas from him and the wee one ( the wee one being our cat Rupert). I burst into tears.
You might think - me soppy - not gotten over it - true I haven't gotten over it - it takes time. But you see the reason I burst into tears was because this was the first time - the first time in six years of going out with him and the aftermath that he actually said thank you to me on his own accord. Without anyone standing there prodding him - without me having to go into a huge huff - without me having to spend a fortune on Barbour jackets - he did it just like that - and that - out of everything and all the Merry Xmas' - meant alot.
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