Monthly Archives: September 2006
I am now installed in the delightful abode of the Caversham Princess. The amount and frequency of random junk (aka insightful prose) posted courtesy of the inner machinations of my mind will therefore be altered for the next few weeks. I’m sure you’ll greatly miss all those cures for cancer I was ever-so-thoughtfully posting.
Anyway, I must away to Patrick and my temporary nest; I fear the acid running through these veins may begin to eat through Caversham Princesses keyboard.
Here’s hoping for sordid dreams of sidestreets and darkened doorways…
-Woke at 6.45
-Half dressed myself
-Waited for phonecall under duvet
-Breathed incomprehensible sigh of relief at 9am
-Tried to go back to sleep as exhausted
-Dragged myself out of my nest at 1pm
-Looked on internets
-Looked for employment
-Read the incomparible Tucker Max intensively NSFW
-Wondered if Tucker Max and MW#1 teaming up would lay waste to entire continents (answer:of course)
-Conversed (typed) with MW#1 about fucking porn stars vs. fluffers (porn star every time), his new modelling obsession (no, not in that way)
-Enjoyed looking at modelling materials
-Pondered the whole MW#1 “situation”
-Looked for jobs again
-Became fed up
-Read more Tucker
-Thought about the best urban cover around the town center for getting obscene with MW#1
-Depressed myself some more
-Stole some food out of the freezer and ate it
-Thought about packing my stuff
-Thought about moving
-Thought about redirecting my post
-Cooked and ate again
-Read more Tucker
-Wondered if i’ll get called to work tomorrow
-Became more fed up
-Was pleased that Things To Do In Denver When You’re Dead was on (hot injured Andy Garcia)
-Wondered how long it would take me to pack everything up and if I should start today
Recommended Max stories NSFW The Midget Story, The Blowjob Follies, Tucker has moment of reflection, ends poorly, Tucker tries buttsex; hilarity does not ensue and The Austin Road Trip
I had my first half day supply today… It was only three hours but I have been left feeling rather tired. At the moment I am setting my alarm for 7 and then waiting to see if my phone rings… I was just about to go back to sleep at 8.15 thinking “those bastards” when I got the call, and a half-hours worth of traffic later I was attempting to teach 18 Year 7’s technology. Attempt is probably the best word to describe it.
Together we struggled in vain to make the CAD programme work- me having a total of around half an hour’s experience on it and reeeally not having a fucking clue. I was just honest, and said that I didn’t know, and that they should just progress as best they could. This happened with the next bunch too.
I was left wondering why I was there- I mean, couldn’t they get a cover supervisor to do what I was doing- babysitting? They didn’t get much work done, they learnt nothing new and had no-one knowledgable to answer their questions. I tried as best I could, so I guess there’s not much more I could do… Overall I found the whole experience somewhat amusing. It’ll only be bad when I have to meet the usual teachers…
Anyway, it was only lil’ lost Year 7’s; it could have been much worse (hello Years 8 & 9)- and all 8 of the the Year 10 tech group I had were lovely. Of course the instructions left for all the classes were pretty crap, so I astounded and entertained the Year 10s with a discussion on the Predator and Aliens series (the young fools thought AvsP was “quality”), hop up airsoft M4 rifles and the ones used in Aliens (M41 plasma pulse rifles) and why designing a spherical mp3 player might not be the best of things to be doing as in your pocket it would make it look like you had one outsized testicle.
“How do you know all this, Miss?”
“Do you have a boyfriend that’s into all that stuff?”
“Nope. I’m an art teacher, and art teachers know everything. Or at least, I do. Brain like a sponge, see…”
Education of the *highest* quality. I await to see if the upcoming booking at the same school next week is kept :D
From dvdvr: “You know, as horrible as it sounds reading this thread, I’m starting to come around on Kurt. I think I now place him alongside how I feel about Evander Holyfield. In effect, if you want to selfishly ruin your life and that of your family, and you won’t take “no” for an answer, then the hell with it. Don’t even waste time. Put Kurt Angle in a scaffold match or something. Have him do a CZW type of spot off the roof onto 13 burning tables or into a lighttube factory. Have him go fight Cro Cop on 3 weeks notice. And then rematch on New Years.”
“I’m past feeling bad for him or anyone stupid enough to promote him anymore.”
If you’re going to do a “plancha with a full twist around your axis from the top turnbuckle to the outside of the ring”.you should not ordinarily end up with your head piledriving into the mat…
YouTube: Accidente Volador Jr.
See previous entry for photographic evidence
So, after a very long and tiring day working for free back at skool I removed myself home to get eyelinered, bestockinged and laced up and then proceeded to make my merry way into town to the agreed rendezvous point. Although the weather had been inclement earlier on int he day, the evening was fine, so I changed tack to stock up on cider and goblets before reaching land. Once at the X I settled myself down next to the house of god to wait for my crew to join me.
Leia Ewok Villaged contacted me to ask where I was and I took approxmately five minutes to have a 30 second conversation as I struggled to talk pirate without pausing for five seconds between each word and laughing insanely as I tried to plan out my conversation. Leia joined me looking resplendant in corset and funfur-trimmed ye olde Bench coat and marabou-trimmed tricorn; I was most pleased to see the effort made, and together we hunkered down behind a friendly tomb and drank cider from candy-coloured goblets as we waited for other crew members.
McCy was next to arrive, however she needed directions to the rendezvous spot as she refused to believe the map I had drawn was accurate. She was wearing boots that could possibly be considered as piratical (if we are talking pirates on motorbikes a la Mad Max), so punishment was not required. We consumed more cider and I was most pleased with the arrrs from passing drunks and from the person who asked us why we were celebrating TLAPD when it was on Tuesday- it’s slowly spreading… We then wandered into the Purple Turtle, after getting ID’d of course; I also had to make a ‘pirate face’ for the bouncer- apparently mine was more like ‘witch’. Ah well. Can’t ask for everything.
I then decided to invent my drink of the evening- rum, lemonade and a slice of lime; it were mightly tasty, except for the time when the barman gave me rum, lemondade and lime cordial. Not good… but of course being made of sterner stuff I forced it down myself… Bobby Convey was the next to arrive sporting her beautiful gold earring and looking most slender; so that meant we were only waiting for Caversham Princess and M… talk about waiting… two and a half hours later they appeared, and it was only because there were piratically-themed, I am a merciful Captain and I was the worse for wear that I refrained from taking them out back and shooting them right there and then.
Actually, before CP and M appeared, MW#1 turned up. I had not heard anything from him so assumed that he was too tired or busy to join the crew. Bless him, he hunted me across town trying to find me as I was incommunicado (although given that we were in the first place we said we’d go to it probably wasn’t that hard)… He of course deserved punshiment for being non-piratically dressed and for being a tardy scallywag, but somehow I forgot to feed him to the sharks.
I were mighty pleased to see him, although I felt that I couldn’t talk to him proper like, as I was well on my way to being three sheets to the wind and I was acutely aware that I didn’t want to abandon Bobby et al. through my conversing with him. He did amuse me greatly by freaking out myself and Bobby by inflicting the manfur upon us both… I’m sure Bobby didn’t want to see that… no need… I gave good hug as per usual and he disappeared off into the night.
Anyway, due to my day at skool and all the rum I had consumed, I began to feel most wearsome, so I said adieu to my own party and went via pie and chips and a shared rowboat with Leia and McCy (with drumsticks) back to my nest where I consumed said pie and ships with great gusto.
Have ye ever seen a crew o’ such fearsome appearance?
Some of the crew of The Damned Lust:
(mouseover to see captions)
And just to prove that the Captain is the most fearsome of all…
… and that she is one with her crew in that she can share in the bad photo:
I *so* look like totally teh hawt- it’s no wonder MW#1 (allegedly) desires me so… What with the added chins courtesy of the shadow from my chinstrap and a love of food… Woo. For an unknown reason this is my favourite photo of myself.
A scene that appealed to my artistic innards at the end of the night (I had pie and chips mmmm).
A full report of the evening will follow when I can be arsed…
Well, I’ve finally got my first day of supply. It’s not even a full day, but it’s at the school my old skool buddy got a post at, so hopefully I’ll be able to meet up for a biscuit or something. It’s in the first week of October. Jolly.
I may be unemployed and heading towards a glittering career as a secretary, and in the scheme of things it means not a whole lot, but fuck it, it gave me a lift today: I found out that on the old PGCE I got a Merit for my contextual studies and a Distinction for my practical teaching (the highest grade)- teaching being the most important in my opinion. External confirmation that I am indeed great… and that schools are clearly idiots…
The last week or two has seen sadness appearing slowly yet surely over the horizon- things are starting to get to me. I was last paid at the end of May, so I figure I haven’t done so badly, but I’m down to my last 300 doubloons… It’s not like i’m going to be homeless at the end of the month (Caversham Princess is putting me up (Thank You!)) and I know that job numbers are increasing and slowly creeping towards my area, but somehow I feel that all my efforts of buying job papers, trawling websites and signing up with agencies will be for naught when it comes to doing anything remotely enjoyable or doing anything that I am trained for and good at.
Maybe it’s ‘cos I’m tired… maybe it’s ‘cos I watched the lovely Stephen Fry front a very interesting programme about bipolar mood disorder… maybe it’s from all my self-questioning i’ve been doing of late… maybe it’s ‘cos things are getting kinda mean at Casa Monky…
Maybe it’s from watching Talk To Her, my first Almodovar experience and seeing the beautiful Pina Bausch ballet (Cafe Muller and Masurca Fogo)… or maybe it’s ‘cos I think far too fucking much about things. Ugh. I guess I’m still looking forward to Friday, but the shine has been taken off, and right now i’m feeling kinda blah about it.
I shed several tears watching an episode of Holby City this evening (dead kid, staff illness, fucked up personal relationships etc. lame I know)… I was laughing by the end of the ep. but I think i’ve been feeling the pangs of the mean reds of late, and weeping over a soap is the nasty result. It’s just *not* necessary.
I just can’t help thinking that things are not quite right and are not destined to be. My room is cold and I’m very much looking forward to snuggling under my duvet with poorly Patrick (stuffing actually fell out of his head yesterday)… :(
What I really feel like is curling up in a caring pair of arms and resting my wonky Monky head on their chest… So that I feel like i’m a small, shipwrecked creature adrift on a warm island where I feel very small and safe. Me be thinkin’ th’chances o’ that kindness bein’ bestowed upon me be just shy o’ slim…
Watch a clip of the beautiful “Cafe Muller” here at NPR Pina Bausch – Clip from Talk To Her
A variety of soundtrack downloads
I am currently seeking refuge in Diane Reeve’s silky vocals from Goodnight, And Goodluck.
Sigh… All I need now is a room lit by a single candle, some wine and a lap to stretch out across…
Well, th’official Talk Like A Pirate Day were mighty uneventful for yer Captain. The highlight o’ me day be a short sail in me sloop to th’supply store to take on provisions. I be mighty unhappy when I checked me post an’ found that I be paid a most miserly sum from th’Office of Satan… stockin’ up on food did go a little way to improving me mood, however.
Me crew for Friday be shapin’ up nice, like. I be havin’ seven crewmembers at th’time o’ writin’ an’ all shiphands invited have answered me call to man The Damned Lust, all except that scoundrel MW#1 o’ course. He be most vexin’. I be thinkin’ he be needin’ to be tastin’ th’sweet pain of me cat-o’-nine-tails, he be such a scallywag.
O’ course, any other crewmember who be choosin’ to cross their glorious Captain will feel th’sting of me whip o’ th’business end of me cutlass. If me be not likin’ th’cut o’ yer jib, rest assured yer Captain will be takin’ steps to make ye tow th’line.
I be consultin’ th’weather charts to see if we be able to moor by ye House of God on Friday; I be mighty apprehensive as to our chances- I think th’weather be conspirin’ against us. I be sure that th’crew o’ The Damned Lust will be fightin’ valliently nonetheless, an’ I be hopin’ that all crew will be havin’ a grand, grand time.
Well, at time of writing I’ve managed to come up with 48 flaws/possible issues.
They’re a mixture of physical imperfections, behavioural problems, and things that I think could be an issue in any relationship I might enter into. I’ve spent the quiet points of my empty days lying on my bed thinking about MW#1, thinking about my problems and wondering if I should just read them all out to him without comment or whether I should encourage feedback.
I think I’ll go for the plain old reading them out approach. It’s confessional and intimate and troubling and interesting… during my “x things about me” posts I covered alot of them, but I won’t be posting up this list. I think that would be a disservice to myself and although I post all sorts of junk on here, I think it would be a breach of trust.
I’ve also managed to come up with 14 points I need to put to MW#1. Stuff I think I need to question him on to find out where he stands on certain things. He goes on about issues he has, but aside from my own analysis via Doktor Monky pop psychiatry, he has not as of yet decided to tell me anything. This does not bother me too much, but I would like to think that the disgorgement of all the issues I have I can think of will encourage him to share, even just a little.
I think it’s an important step to building trust… The questions i’ve come up with are quite tough. It could be that the answers I receive mean that any relationship is a total non-starter, but I still feel that the inquisition by Monky is a good thing- unemployed I may be but one skill I am proud of is that I am a good listener and am always willing to try and help by either offering advice or opinion or shutting the fuck up.
At the same time, not having any concrete idea of what his issues could be (aside from the Doktoring) is slightly unnerving. I worry that I could be ambushed by something that I am completely unprepared for, or there will be an issue that I can not help him with. Thats what I want to do- help. Make things easier for people; lord knows, life is hard enough already.
I’ve dealt with some serious issues in the past and I would like to think i’m fairly hardcore… i’m more likely to stick with something/someone for longer than is good for me just so I can make sure they’re okay. Woo… Item # 49… Oh no, my mistake. That was covered in Items # 8 and 43.
Anyway, I don’t know when he’s going to feel comfortable that I am not “just a rebound”… it could be he’s gone off the idea whilst he’s been away. I’d still like to go through my scrawlings, even if it is only to get things out of my system. Talking therapy for all hooray…
The weekend meanderings of my mind:
Print out your own disposable planner using PocketMod
Print, customise and make yourself more productive D*I*Y Planner
I have a love of stationary. When I attended school my favourite part of the year was undoubtedly shopping for pencil cases, pencils, rulers, diaries etc. So the DIY Planner and the Hipster PDA are what qualifies as fun around here.
Print out your own Grid & Graph Paper PDFs
Locals are protesting the potential building of a treatment centre for adolescent victims of abuse who in turn have gone on to abuse SWAAY
Photoshop Painting Techniques: Hair and Fur
Boing Boing Pirate zen – genius collection of piraticalness
I used to delight in poking these whilst on holiday Anemonia viridis, Snakelocks Anemone Boy am I glad I didn’t brush against them…
The first car I lusted after Quattro I was aged five.
Google Video Climb Dance 1989 Pikes Peak Peugeot 405 T16
ADVANCED GROUND-FIGHTING TECHNIQUES
(Slightly NSFW) Stripy stockings fetish ahoy at A Rayas
Tiny Nibbles – TSA Porn
Vogue Italia – State of Emergency
NSFW If nude models competed at the Olympics
DFA Records – Radio Mixes
Opthalmology Times – Enriched flaxseed oil no fish tale for dry eye
The Biology of B-Movie Monsters
Gui Borrato – Arquipelago.mp3
For I am knowledge and ignorance.
I am shame and boldness.
I am shameless; I am ashamed.
I am strength and I am fear.
The Thunder, Perfect Mind
Frank Rodick – Arena – porn as horror
Flickr – One Shot Tutorial – make your own pamphlet
“An artistical rendition of facial reconstruction surgical techniques on veterans of the First World War, by means of military uniforms summarizing all the medical history and procedure applied on the servicemen” – Project facade
Yeah… so as you can see, nothing much has been going on. I spend my days going through all the job ads I can find, browsing the TES boards to empathise with fellow unemployed bums, amuse myself by going through the Gumtree Casual Relationships board and generally worrying about the upcoming weeks.
I did however very much enjoy the first part of Low Winter Sun… fascinating, vile, wonderful with great music. I’ve managed to land myself a day working back at my old placement skool for- not supply though, just being a webmonkey for the day (50 quid’s better than temping and money is needed)… this cheered me a little, as did the latest listings on the TES- no jobs of course, but a little more variety in my field and a little closer to where i’m based, so a small waver of hope appears.
Other than that… nowt. I had an excellent discussion with my bro about the lapdance club he attended a couple nights ago (oh for the day when I can afford to take a trip into Soho…). I’ve also managed to compile some brain content on what I think I need to discuss with MW#1 if and when he decides to bestow his luggage upon me (well, if he decides to then before he does).
It’s almost as if it’s a business contract… i’m not that easily bought however; I guess it’s more of a risk assessment survey? Of course, the majority of my scrawling is a big list of things that I think are flaws in my physical makeup or personality that could be issues for him, but I have some tough questions to ask of him too, that is of course if he has any interest in pursuing the previously discussed course of action. Who knows? Well, hopefully MW#1 is formulating some ideas…
So at 9.10am this beautiful morning I was roused from my fitful slumber by an Office Angel offering me a day’s temping at an office in the town centre.
So an hour and a half later I arrive at the plush offices of an Indian IT company. When I say plush, I mean cubicle city. Anyway, I spent the entire day feeling like a fucking retard as people phoned asking to speak to workers who were actually working in India, or somewhere equally not the South East of England.
I had to look up the person on one list, then try and find their internal phone number on another list, but oh, that was not the most recent list and ah, they’re not on the list, but hang on, maybe they are, maybe their first name is actually their last name and erm, that person doesn’t sit here anymore, no, i’m not that guy, so maybe try him, their phone is busy and yes, I will take a message and let them know… fuuuck.
The foot-high stack of post had to be sorted into five piles- the destinations and differences were never explained, so of course I got it wrong, I had no idea, there were conflicting instructions in the temp guide, the password for the computer was wrong so I had to call someone to reset the system, I don’t have the password to access the voicemail (six messages deleted :D) i’m now just looking for anyone vaguely like who callers are after, transferring them and then putting the phone down without waiting to see if it’s correct, so back to the post…
So no-one tells me where to put the post so I see pigeon holes on my travels and I put things in them and then oh, not those pigeon holes- the other ones on the other side of the room, nevermind, and people are calling and I can’t understand what the hell they’re saying so I can’t tell who they’re calling for, and then I go for lunch.
I walk under a brilliant sun so get a lovely mozzarella, tomato and ham panini, toasted to melty perfection courtesy of an excellently flirty Italian deli worker- who I know is extra kind to me ‘cos I look so fucking lost and shy; I walk back and sit for five minutes watching the IT ants crawl in and out of the building… then I resubmerge into the world of water coolers, royal blue cubicles and general greyness.
So I have a bin-full of post to be couriered to India- It has to be sorted according to what it is and divided into internal and external to be sent on to overseas offices, each piece has to be entered into one of two spreadsheets and then the two consignments must be entered into the courier software, labels must be printed, manifests produced, airwaybills collated… I get it wrong of course having no idea what the fuck I am doing as the temp info is scanty to say the least and no-one has told me, the guy I am supposed to be helping does the majority of it for me…
I have to enter all the pieces I haven’t done, but most of them don’t have the necssary information on them so i’m just like “fuck it” and I keep going anyway (the post can have a holiday to Bangalore), then the courier comes to collect all of the packages, i’ve printed the manifests on the headed paper instead of the plain paper, I apologise and tell him I need 5 more minutes to finish, he’s nice in that builder-y “be kind to cute lost things who look 12, sorry, 19” sort of way, “I bet you have to deal with my sort all the time… I’m sorry- it’s my first day” “that’s alright- they’re pretty hard on the girls here… and it’s okay- I deal with your sort all the time but most of them aren’t as nice as you” God bless couriers…
So the courier goes, and I manage to send my one email of the day informing a guy about the shipment number, but then oh, which courier is it with and wtf was that you just sent me, email number two- no reply. Hooray. I give up trying to deal with any other emails and just dump them into the “follow up” folder, celebrating their arrival with bright red flags. I call the Office and ask for them to fax me over my timesheet as I don’t know where the other fax machine is that I originally asked it to be sent to…
I drink four cups of icy water and repetitively click through the inbox and try and find missing documents, I stare at the clock and I go sit in the toilet for five minutes listening to my voicemail, I stare at the clock some more, go through all the files I have access to “for fun” and wait for my contact to return. I go find him, he signs my sheet and I’m all like “Thanks very much… have a good weekend… Bye!” Aaand then i’m out, and I laugh as soon as I hit sun and I giggle as I walk back to catch my bus home. Fuckin’ hell…
So my day adrift earned me approximately 45 quid. I DO NOT WANT TO GO BACK THERE AGAIN.
So last night I managed to get to talk to MW#1 about erm, one of the things I meant to talk to him about… I still had maannny concerns I didn’t manage to raise which were bumping excitedly around inside my head.
So I wasn’t crushed quite just yet…
I actually made a list of things to discuss so I didn’t forget. It’s still sitting in the pocket where I stuffed it as I headed out the door yesterday, and I imagine it will stay there until I clean out my bag. I feel so dorky- unable to even pluck up the courage to sit next to him on the sofa.
I did some skills assessment before we turned out the lights; I gave him a visualisation and co-ordination test of which I would say he scored 7 out of a possible 10 (unlace a corset without seeing the strings). He just needs practice. It’s a bit difficult to bring up some of the things I want to talk about when I’m being showered with kisses and am unable to speak because my mouth is fixed in a wide grin…
So anyway when I got home blearily this morning I sat for an hour or two marinating on things, then I took the plunge and asked him bluntly via MSN whether or not I was nowt but a friend providing privileges.
The answer: No. However, things aren’t as simple as all that… I have agreed to give him time to to ponder whether I would simply be “a rebound”; during which time I have said I’m unable to continue to be intimate with him as I’m finding it more difficult to keep things on a no strings basis.
He’s away cooking himself under the South African sun (bring me back some dead animal to eat) for a week from Friday, so things will stay on hold ’til his return. I don’t know how long this state of stasis will go on for and it could be that after the time given he decides I’m not that fabulous after all (he’d have to be psychotic or something of course)…
However I feel much better for having the conversation, there are fewer things floating about in my head (mind you a whole new set of ideas have replaced them) and I feel a little clearer where I stand- to know that things are in progress and positions still being formed is comforting. The evil hope rears it’s ugly, ugly head.
I should preface this post by saying I’ve had two glasses of wine with my dinner this evening- this can be an excuse or a damnation.
I went to get my eyes checked again today. The optometrist put more orange dye in my eyes so she could see if it fluoresced under her scope where the tissue was dry and damaged (I seem to be permanently dehydrated). It makes the world appear slightly darker and orange. It’s fun. When I got home I had bright yellow gum collecting at the insides of my eyes and when I blew my nose the contents of my tissue were like a standed neon yellow jellyfish. I even took a photo I was that impressed (i’ll save you the details).
I watched a bit of Devdas and then settled in to watch Crash- the sex and car crashes one, not the touchy-feely bullshit one. Anyway, that film is fabulous and it really turns me on… so I sent MW#1 two suggestive text messages… actually, they weren’t even suggestive, more a descriptive ordering.
Fucking hell… all I want to do is jump his ignorant bones. The fact that I am even thinking this means that one of the two conversations i’m going to have to initiate on Tuesday is the whole “erm, what’s the situation here?” so it could very well be that I have to give up something that I think is good, has lots of potential and is important to me.
This prospect fills me with sadness.
I don’t, however wish to be labouring under misapprehensions of any kind. Being slightly crushed seems to be the norm whenever i’m not being completely flattened. Fuck.
Holy shit. I got a phone call today from one of the supply agencies i’m with telling me about a three week placement starting next Tuesday (ak!) teaching art and RS at a private (boys) school in my area. They’re going to pass on my CV- I am totally gobsmacked… even if I don’t get the job, the fact that I have been offered any position of any sort is fucking great.
I may not be offered another placement for ages, I realise three weeks does not employment make and I realise I could be teaching RS for the majority of the time if I did get the placement (hey- how hard can it be to read out of a textbook, right?) but at the moment I am feeling just a little bit more hopeful about things…