Monthly Archives: March 2007

Move


If all goes to plan I will probably be disappearing from nopoke for a few days; I am hoping to move house this weekend and unless some convenient fool leaves their wireless network unprotected I will be internet-less (aside from email checking) for a wee while.

You could probably do with the break.

I am hopeful and a little excited but apprehensive too; I hope everything goes okay and that I don’t have noisy neighbours or find the house is scummy. I am also having to save for unemployment so things are going to be difficult, even though I will be earning (when I hopefully get paid) the most money I have ever earned.

I am most looking forward to having my very own (i.e. rented) double bed- I feel all grown up. In that way anyway. All the more room for me and Patrick to construct an extra cosy nest just in time for the predicted freeze. We can hide from the world by constructing a den within the giant duvet and pretend we are hibernating. Woo.
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Be All That You Can Be


Fascinating article on how you could survive losing 60% of your blood after you’ve inhaled a dose of hydrogen sulphide:

“Heat-resistant. Cold-proof. Tireless. Tomorrow’s soldiers are just like today’s — only better. Inside the Pentagon’s human enhancement project”

Wired Be More Than You Can Be
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Sex After Not Seeing Each Other For A few Days


“Matt wants to have sex with her face and body, but with a penis the size of Rachel’s face and body, shaped so that it fits on her like a mold, so that when they have sex it looks like Rachel is just standing there with a thin layer of sensitive crotch meats enveloping her like a scuba suit. Matt feels confused.”

NSFW: Nerve.com short story Sex After Not Seeing Each Other For A few Days

Prepare yourself: Jared Leto + and – 62lbs courtesy of Terry Richardson (seriously! warped)

Purple Fashion Magazine
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You’re not gonna get hung up on me, are you?


You're not gonna get hung up on me, are you?

It is interesting how over the course of a month I can veer from outright despair about MW#1 to not really giving a fuck what the hell happens. Interesting to me anyway… Is it ever interesting to anyone else…?

As I am a scientific individual I had put it down to some sort of hormonal ovulation-related flirtation, but through my research I’ve discovered that this can’t be the case with me as i’m merrily dosing myself with hormones to fool my body into thinking i’ve already ovulated (no more knocked-up paranoia for me).

So why is it one day I feel unconcerned that he hasn’t seen me in two months when the next day i’m writing a text message telling him he’s got one month to shape up or he loses me for good? Perhaps it’s related to the contradiction that is me that means I can discuss the chemicals behind attraction and pair bonding whilst at the same time being a romantic without outlet whose heart aches.

Maybe the timing is purely statistical. To disturb you MW#1, here is some over-analysis for you: Given that I last saw him the second week of January (my, that seems like a world away) and I used to see him at least once a month or so then my fed-upness would be expected to increase as time passed before levelling out when I reached fatalistic acceptance, before I worked up to getting pissed-off again. Or something.

Another grim agony aunt column courtesy of the Times: I feel i’ve made the biggest mistake of my life. Must stop listening to Amy Winehouse.

If i’m weak and contact him I always do it at the same time of the month; I usually go through the same spazzing-out “what a fucking idiot he is/I am” across the same time period too. I am the one with the “love is a biological concept designed to continue the species” design inked into my dermis…

Excellent article covering flirtation, mate symmetry and how changing fertility influences women’s behaviour:

Flirting Fascination

Random image goodness:

if charlie parker was a gunslinger, there’d be a whole lot of dead copycats
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Virgin Outing


Have been wistful this evening after reading what was going on in my life this time last year… My first intimate encounter with MW#1 (or Mid Atlantic as he was then codenamed)…

Walk Of Shame

I remember the evening with great fondness as I had a wonderful time, yet I feel sad because I know that a short time later I found out that my trust had been abused. Reading the entries moving towards the betrayal I feel wistful because it is clear how happy I was and even though I was trying my best to be neutral and restrained the hope shines through.

Of course it was not the last time I was to be intimate with MW#1; I miss the gamut of physical intimacies ranging from the sexual through to the merest touch on my shoulder… I have no regrets about my behaviour as I have been honest throughout and do not regret spending time being intimate with him as it was/is deeply important to me. He could make me feel like no other.

The only thing I regret in relation to him is that I never told him how much I cared. I should have told him even when he was drunk and would forget what I’d said; maybe it would have been better that way. I should have prefaced it with “I want to tell you something… know that I expect nothing in reply… I just wanted you to know that I care for you deeply; that I love you…”

I suppose I feel sad because of the remembrance of past good times and a good thing in my life that seems to have drifted away…
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Winey Nostalgia


Food, wine, nostalgia. Tired. Admission to Year 10’s that I used to self harm; discussion from said students about how I am weird ‘cos I “am nice to everyone” because I object to them calling lesbians dykes and saying “that’s gay”. Attemped certifying of sexual preference from same students.

INSET day tomorrow. The training wheels are properly taken off come Monday at school as my team teaching partner rides off into the sunset of birthing. Need to sort myself out planning-wise this weekend, but what i want most of all is to soak in lots of hot water and soak my brain in some red wine.

Heh… drunken staring at myself in the mirror opposite. Pulling faces with drying contact lenses. Hi-larious.

BED.
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Blue Massage


International Klein Blue


IKB 79
1959
Yves Klein

I’ve been having thoughts lately of taking care of persons not entirely unknown… Giving respite by giving them a back rub, washing their hair, wrapping them up in my warm blanket and stoking their hair whilst holding them until they fall asleep.

I suppose these are all things I would love someone who cares for me to do to me, but I lack; so imagining giving to another is the closest I come. Sigh. Tired. Bed. Sleep.
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Whiteboard Ambush


So “the day I had on Friday” was rather bad. Not end of the world bad, but it involved a class-full of Year 8’s, me being very tired and a health and safety incident.

I had my second (and last) lesson with my class of unpleasant Year 8’s. I had been on at them most of the lesson about not throwing the glue sticks, doing what they’d been asked etcetera and we had finally reached the point of tidying up. They were being crap, uber slack at cleaning up and pretty rude whilst they were half-heartedly at it.

I was standing at the front of the class shouting at the lovely children to move it when the large, unsecured whiteboard that was balanced behind me on the edge of a radiator fell forward, hitting me directly across my neck. I was stunned. The kids lifted it off me and placed it back up against the wall and asked me if I was okay… I looked accusingly about at the kids but they professed innocence; I believed their claims of accident as the board had been pretty wobbly when I was drawing diagrams on it (I think it might have been one of their backpacks bumping it). I wasn’t in pain but I could feel myself welling up from the shock and being on edge.

I stood rubbing my neck to distract myself from the emotional up swell as I waited for the kids to finish tidying and tried very hard to keep my composure and not lose it. They still didn’t give much of a fuck as I stood stock-still with one hand on the desk waiting, staring silently as my eyes burned. One of a group of the girls pulled themselves out of their conversations long enough to comment “Look… she’s crying” I simply stood and willed the tears to brim but not brim over.

Then the board fell on me again. It hit me harder this time in the same place. I felt like I was under siege from the kids, the board… I couldn’t take it any more and after the kids lifted it off me for the second time, with a sharp intake of breath and a “Right… that’s it” I walked out of the classroom into the corridor to try and compose myself… I left the kids tidying and went round the corner to the staffroom in an embarrassing flood of tears. I asked a colleague to come and help me if she didn’t mind as I needed to get the class dismissed… I felt so darned stupid!

I went back into the classroom with her and helped shoo the kids out; a couple of them asked if I was okay (even the most disruptive one)… my colleague took me back to the staff room, put the kettle on and went to take my next class (it was team teaching anyway). I sat and dried myself off and sucked slowly on my carton of Ribena. Eugh. I went into the next class looking rather red and drained but the older kids I shared my woes with were sympathetic; one even offered to sort the kids out for me if I wanted. I declined this offer and said he’d be better fixing the whiteboard.

Will have to fill out the accident report on Monday… I feel slightly dumb for getting so upset, but hey, I survived two decapitation attempts… woo!

A quote from Savage Love that makes me terribly wistful:

“GGG stands for ‘good, giving and game,’ which is what we should all strive to be for our sex partners. Think ‘good in bed,’ ‘giving equal time and equal pleasure’ and ‘game for anything — within reason.'”

I asked (well, texted) MW#1 whether he’d decided not to see me any more as we haven’t spoken to/seen each other in long while; he responded that this was not the case. I told him that he must take care not to lose me… because he will do if this continues. It’s ver-fucking-boten but I miss him, his GGG and his hugs… le sigh.
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Total Eclipse of the Mooon


leaving totality

No, it’s not a fast-moving Malteaser- it’s a total lunar eclipse

Because I am a dork, I have just sent an excited text to my closest intimates going on about the “softly smouldering moon”

From my current location it did not appear as red as expected; it was more of a burnt orangey colour, as you can see from the above terribly-fine photo taken by myself. Still cool and super interesting, and exactly the sort of thing that gets me excited. I spent my evening peering out at the decreasing wheel of cheese as the shadow s-l-o-w-l-y crept across it’s face; an odd sight indeed.
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Big Pert Boobs


Nomad


Nomad
1963
James Rosenquist

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Gud mornin big pert boobs lol soz. But u av haha. Did u get pic last nite u askd 4 if nt il send again shame ha. R u goin college i nt stayin in bed ha yes

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Text message received 06.37hrs yesterday from anonymous sender.

I am now crippled from wearing the boots of doom but I had a lovely evening eating, drinking and chatting with Leia Ewok Village and Woods, Tiger. Am now feeling happily tired, very warm and slightly alcohol soaked (although not enough to take away the pain in my soles); after my day (more on that when i’ve woken up) it was a most welcome diversion…

Bed, Patrick, sleep, hug
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Follow/Crush


follow/crush


Green Light Corridor
1970
Bruce Nauman

Hooray for Friday…

I am looking forward to a rare excursion into town for a social event on Friday evening- slight variety yay- Dinner avec Leia Ewok Village and Woods, Tiger. Will be super great to see them after such a long time away and my poor contact skills and I am also looking forward to the chocolate ice cream for dessert :D

I may actually dress up slightly. Ooooo. I don’t get out much…
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