Monthly Archives: May 2008
New pretty dress, new pretty shoes, new hole in the finances. Ah the joys of having a week off…
Nectarine Macro by Ralph Unden
This week I am greatly enjoying a few days break from the children and I am delighting in spending some of it having hours and hours of fun in front of Galactica. Go me.
Last week I got to see Singin’ In The Rain on the big screen as part of the Times season Movies That Matter; McCy had not seen the fabulousness of the insane Technicolour sets and costumes so it was good to introduce her. As per usual I found myself getting rather overwhelmed by it all and so inexplicably teared up to Donald O’ Connor laughing hysterically spinning around on the floor in Make Em Laugh and the overly orange Gene Kelly full of the joys of lurve splashing about in the title song. Awesomeness.
I got my hair cut and they actually did a good job. I now have excellent, short hair that looks pretty damned great. Well, to me at least when I am drunkenly propped in front of a mirror, running my fingers through it and telling myself it looks awesome.
I went to see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of The Crystal Skull. I was not overly happy when the credits came up- To sum up a major rant:
- Why aliens? WHY? Why not stick with the Russians as the new Nazis? Why start with an atomic bomb caper then leave that?
- Russian villainess- Why have a sword (rapier)? Why do you need such a fucking stupid accessory to be the villain? Did any of the previous villains need such things to prove their evil-ness? NO.
- Marion. Did she have some sort of brain trauma in the years that passed? Seriously. One of the best roles of the eighties for women had been turned into some sort of grinning, brain-dead accessory, with little dialogue and little point to her character. What happened to the fire, the balls she used to have?
- The CGI. I do not want any CGI thanks- mattes will do fine. Please do not have a glorious shot of Indy swinging across a warehouse spoiled with a CGI-based dropping into the truck. It RUINS the whole thing- You should not be able to tell what is CGI ILM– Go and speak to Weta and ask them how they do it. Fuckwits.
Not the worst film in the world by a long shhot however I feel much more let down by this than I did by the Phantom Menace. I suppose the alien sub-plot was equivalent to Jar Jar Binks x 2.
I spent Friday drinking to excess in honour of Caversham Princess’s birthday; I took an interest the the craft of a bartender and ended up getting a gratis shot of the fabulously named Monkey Shoulder… Interesting stuff, and I am not one for whisk(e)y. Could just have been however that I was lacking many of the old taste buds due to the fair amount of booze I had already consumed.
I was gobsmacked to have one of my images selected for a piece on Boing Boing- Ah to think that the delightful Xeni Jardin picked my photo :D The wonders of random Flickr browsing… on a less happy note a message I sent to MW#1 has gone unanswered… funny how that just keeps happening.
I’m currently home alone for another day or so; I have been making lots of mess and have been eating my first luscious nectarines of the year… I find them eating them a rather pleasurable experience- their smooth skin, soft aromatic flesh… lovely to bite and linger over. Ahem.
Lahndahn tahn tomorrow and the British Museum’s American Scene- Prints from Hopper to Pollock; I visited their temporary print collection last time I was there and it was a real gem of a find, so I am really looking forward to seeing what they’ve dredged up from the archives this time.
I wondered why I was getting new contacts added on my Flickr account… The image above is currently being used on Boing Boing to illustrate a piece about a stripper’s blog…
Starbuck by The Sizemore McCabe Project
Towards the end of the week just passed I received some better news about my position in September. Miraculously, the incompetent prick “in charge” of timetabling has managed to bump me up to a 0.7 teaching schedule, and this will rise come September.
This lands me with a 5K pay cut but my salary would be just enough to pay my bills and survive, so at least I will have a relatively full-time job permanently. Still means i’ll be on part-time pay over the Summer break so once again I will be saving money for the lack of a full-time salary and not off somewhere hot and distant- though to be frank even if I did have some saveable cash, who would i go with? At least I will have some sort of income for September, and a fair bit of strife has been lifted from me for a while.
Here’s hoping now that hope has been returned to me that it is not taken away again…
In other news, I watched and teared up at the last episode of Supernatural- Oh lovely, damaged Dean… You do not deserve to be getting intimate for all eternity with a meat hook… Come spend the Summer in my back garden- You could rub sun cream into my shoulders in time with the clickty-clacking of the passing trains.
I also indulged in a bit of a sci-fi fest, taking in The Undiscovered Country, Generations and First Contact (alas, I could not find The Wrath of Khhaaaahn) and have also worked my way through far too many episodes of Battlestar Galactica- A new Surf The Channel joy for me to while away the hours. Eee. It is strangely involving when it really should not be… Captain Starbuck is my kind of gal :D
Astoundingly this week is going to be a busy one- I am very excited to be going to see Singin’ In The Rain on the big screen, and am really looking forward to taking in Indy IV; I am also fiinally getting my hair cut and drinking excessive amounts in honour of Caversham Princess ticking off another year in her life.
Then, thank frack, it’s half term. Sigh.
It’s the weekend and once again I find myself spending it alone in my bedroom propped up in front of my laptop. It’s late and i’m tired and lonesome so I find myself thinking about the fact that I spend most weekends by myself and I begin to feel glum.
As is usual my mind wanders onto pondering my chances of finding someone who’s living, breathing, flesh-and-blood real to hold me rather than the usual partners in my head that lie next to me to rub my back. I come to the same conclusion every time- there’s little hope for me. No workplace or social life to meet people in and too shy to internet date. I’m going to be alone for a l-o-n-g time to come. Then my eyes start to fill and hot tears slowly meander down my cheeks.
It’s my baking powder moment… except there’s no happy ending for this Mademoiselle.
Ugh, same old same old. I think i’ll go crawl under my rock.
I’ve looked at a lot of Rauschenbergs lately as he was put down as an example artist for the GCSE exam paper; I have gained an appreciation I did not have before for his artwork consisting of layered imagery, smeared paint and smooshed objects. From this I felt a little sad at his death, or at least sad as in he is an artist who has had impact and who no longer exists. The slow death of the Pop artists…
I will feel similarly when Gene Hackman goes. Yes, I know it’s odd, but his eventual non-existence weighs upon me a little. I put him in the same class as Roy Scheider, Dustin Hoffman, Donald Sutherland, Jane Fonda, Clint Eastwood, Robert Duvall, Morgan Freeman… and the younger Al Pacino and Robert De Niro… It’s like without them, what will we do? Lindsay Lohan just doesn’t quite cut it.
I had a great time over the weekend in the beautiful depths of Surrey; the kids were pretty well-behaved and I got to do loads of cool stuff i.e. wearing harnesses a lot and jumping from great heights off various poles. Harnesses and poles… heh.
I would write more about my good time but all of the goodness of the weekend has quite frankly been pissed all over by work: I was told back at the beginning of March by the person doing the timetable that I was fine, fine for a full-time job in September- 0.8 with Year 7 enrichment on top. I arrive back from my excellent weekend and am told no, I am sorry you were told that but due to budget cuts your post is going to be far short of full time.
So, on their assurances (me and my boss were told more than once) I ignored all the job positions advertised from February onwards on the understanding I was given that I was totally, utterly fine for September. I have missed all the jobs at the schools nearest me as the main period jobs are advertised is March through May, and pretty much wherever you look the schools that are hiring are not going to be the best.
I am VERY unhappy.
I have had a meeting with the Head and all she could say is that they want to keep me but budget restraints blah blah and that she was sorry that I had been told I had a full time position. I feel extremely hard done by and feel like somehow I should be able to sue them for lost earnings, lost because of their assurances that turned out to be bullshit- losing the potential full time salary of a new position and losing the full time salary i was told i would have in September at my current position.
I have to wait and see if they can squeeze more hours out of the timetable but when I have had complaints from students that they want to do art or photography but after a meeting with the man who does the timetable are told that they cannot do it and that it’s tough, I wonder if I will get much improvement.
I love the department I work in but the senior management seem to fuck stuff up all the time with not much care as to the impact. Ugh.
I could resign and hope a job turns up at a school that won’t drive me mental (no chance) or go back to supply full time (worse than death). The only option I feel I can take is to stick where I am and see if my timetable is filled out and do supply on the side. I am so fed up of doing it- I’ve been doing it for two fucking years…
I am off on my first proper trip- An entire weekend with 120 Year 9 students; although it has potential to be horrendous I am quite looking forward to it as it’s something different and may just even be fun. I just hope there aren’t any boys from another school on site- I can bet you that certain members of my form will be packing the GHD’s along with their waterproofs…
Look at this excellent spam:
One afternoon, I was in the backyard hanging the laundry when an old, tired-looking dog wandered into the yard. I could tell from his collar and well-fed belly that he had a home. But when I walked into the house, he followed me, sauntered down the hall and fell asleep in a corner. An hour later, he went to the door, and I let him out.I quite like the randomness of it; I had to do a double take to check whether it really was spam. Maybe i’m just tired.
The next day he was back. He resumed his position in the hallway and slept for an hour. This continued for several weeks. Curious, I pinned a note to his collar: “Every afternoon your dog comes to my house for a nap. ”
The next day he arrived with a different note pinned to his collar: “He lives in a home with ten children – he’s trying to catch up on his sleep.”
I cried from laughter
Sorry, if not left a message on Rules.
I am now tumblelogging at
All the random crap that I find interesting during my trawls through the internets is there; the stuff I save for later ‘cos I think it’s of relevance or important but never get round to publishing on here.
Quickies – Siege GTA IV Flowers = Happiness Oxytocin’s not the most important Semen as rehydrator MMA
I love love love this- very NSFW A Human Sacrifice by the fabulous Clayton Cubitt AKA Siege
From NSFW The Daily Siege (reg required)
“I think there are two types of beauty.Cubitt interview by The Reverse Cowgirl at JPG Mag
The easier kind is inherited beauty. Youth and its accessories. Flawless skin, toned muscles, bright eyes, silken hair. Also, the ageless genetic gifts of symmetry, grace, and form.
While I cannot help but appreciate inherited beauty, I do not respect it as much as the other type of beauty.
Earned beauty. Laugh lines, scars, stretch marks, tattoos, the folding wrinkles of age. These are marks life leaves on the body. A roadmap of a body’s temporal path. Each crease tells a story, each scar a mark of honour.
I’m perplexed by people who buy jeans, or boots, and scuff and distress them right away. Better they should enjoy the inherited beauty of them new, and as life works on them, the earned beauty will shine through. Be patient. Appreciate it. the process is as important as the destination.
The same as our bodies age. Enjoy the beauty and blush of youth, but also the patina and mystery of age. Be young and beautiful. Be old and beautiful.
You were given a body. But have you earned it?”
Cognitive Daily – Experiments prove that flowers really do make you happy – Read closely all you suitors…
The Anterior Commissure – oxytocin, vasopressin, and "no strings attached" – On pair bonding and the chemicals involved
From The Reverse Cowgirl – Grand Theft Are You Fucking Kidding Me?
“The fact of the matter is that you cannot police the sexual fantasies of men. It isn’t going to happen. You can’t distill one man’s desires into some reductionist understanding of 21st century America that posits women as the victims of men once again. You can’t continue to stick your head into the sand and refuse to believe that this isn’t a part of how men really think and feel and fuck and want and love and hate and live. You just can’t. To do so is insanity.”Science Daily – Sex Is Thirst-quenching For Female Beetles – I frequently seem to feel dehydrated, but as much as I love to be intimate, I don’t feel the need to top up my hydration levels with a bottle of semen… but these beetles do. Not from bottles, obviously…
From the excellent The Walrus Magazine (my new favourite read) – Mixed Martial Arts Fights for Legitimacy – Really well-written and seemingly well-researched article about the current state of Mixed Martial Arts, UFC etcetera.
Broken Heart by bored-now
Danger… Vicious uber-long rant ahoy…
Ever since Bobby Convey began rather successfully dipping her toes in the potentially toxic environment of internet dating I have rather more frequently than usual found myself pondering my “romantic” future.
I currently care for someone who is unwilling to commit to me. From an entirely selfish, indulgent perspective, I think I deserve to have time, attention and yes money spent on me, and MW#1 does not give me what I think I am entitled to experience.
It could be said that he has been honest, in that he told me (texted me) that he didn’t think he could give me what I wanted. The problem is that things he has said and done since then have indicated to me at least that he cares for me, and on the balance of probabilities does not see me as a toy to play with and then throw away.
Comparing his behaviour with my own he can be said to be completely undeserving of me; I spend most of my time restraining myself from acting on how I feel, not saying things I want to say and trying to pretend that yes, i’m good thanks.
Sometimes I wonder if my sticking with people who are undeserving who are not able/do not wish to have a relationship with me means that I am missing chances to meet someone who would do me justice. I don’t think this is the case as I really do think that in my current situation (just as the last few years have played out) I am not going to meet anyone. Do I waste my time and stick with the familiarly undeserving because I have a fear of being alone? Well, I feel lonely for companionship most of the time, so it’s almost like i’m alone already, but I suppose there’s some truth to that.
I have never had a boyfriend, i’ve never been in a “proper” relationship and thanks to society’s emphasis on coupledom I feel like I have been deprived and have a serious shortfall in affection. I feel stifled and frustrated in regards to expressing and exploring my sexuality; because I do not have a partner, a part of my life is left untouched, literally. Receiving a little bit of affection means a lot to me after the exploitation and nigh-on-abuse of The Monster- It means more than it should do, or at least I think it means more to me than the giver because of these experiences. Put another way, I respond well to tactile shows of affection; from another I care for the other person more than they care for me.
I still carry the baggage of teenage years spent feeling deeply undesirable, asexual, weird- not fitting in, liking things i’m not supposed to like, not being feminine enough, thinking too much. I sort of carve out my own path now and I feel happier and more sure of my worth, but I think this makes it even less likely anyone will want to be with me.
It’s like I missed my chance when I was a teenager, missed my chance when at university and therefore i’ve completely missed any chance of finding someone to love. Yes, I know I’m still relatively young, but I think about what experiences I’ve missed out on and what opportunities might be lost; I think about my desire to continue my species and contribute to the world I inhabit, being able to have kids WITH someone as an extension of my love for them rather than going it alone with a turkey baster.
Looking at things from a positive perspective I’ve got ten years or abouts for someone to blunder into me and think I’m a half decent bet, but then it’s a couple of years to get to know them, a couple of years living together, then possibly years trying to conceive and carry to term an assorted type of offspring. It seems I live in a world that is much more real to me than it is to many men.
At the moment I haven’t the courage to internet date just as I can’t pick up from bars- I don’t do pulling and never have done. I need to be around someone and get to know them, build up some confidence. I’m so afraid of being hurt that for me to believe anything a man says I need repeated proof and indeed patience, and I don’t think many men will want to go through all that.
It would just be nice for once in my life the someone I love would not be full of excuses, would not to lie to me and let me down all the time; that I wouldn’t spend my evenings alone in my room messing my glasses up with tears as I write these blog entries. I would also like to be able to be truthful to the someone I love and not feel like I have to pretend and hold things back for fear of seeming too into them, caring too much.
More equality- having someone echo my thoughts about them and tell me that i’m important to them, that I help make the world be a little easier to live in. Appreciate my existence in their life, be proud to stand next to me be I in t-shirt and combats or skin-tight latex and Stripper Shoes.
With MW#1 I feel like God forbid I actually take the initiative and invite him out- He’s full of excuses, apologies, teh stupid. I caved a while back and invited him out for an evening of despicable behaviour; he proffered excuse after excuse as to why he was unable to go out and so, as is usual, I went round his for TV, which was very enjoyable but not what *I* had in mind.
We never go out like we used to before the sex and his lying got in the way, of late I get the impression he doesn’t seem to want to be seen out with me and he doesn’t seem to be able to keep much of a conversation going online… Ugh. It’s not as if i’m pestering him to go out every weekend- We’ve not been for a proper night out in a year and a half – yes, a year and a half.
What do I mean by a proper night out- I get dressed up, he gets dressed up, we bar hop late into the night and talk about random shit whilst he makes a move on me and I try my best to resist. The evening isn’t artificially shortened as he has to get up early, the evening doesn’t happen because oh, he’s not sure where I could wear my rubber to – the lame! – and I don’t have to go home to my own bed because I have to deal with my form populated with bitches in the morning.
The dumb thing is that although MW#1 is hugely undeserving, if he stopped inviting me round for wrestling, ceased making me laugh, didn’t hold me or rub my sore back I would be left deeply hurt… I feel a great unreasonable tenderness towards him. I care.
I often wonder if he has less respect for me as a person because I don’t kick him to the curb when he is caught in whatever lie he’s perpetrating or lets me down. If anyone’s going to do the ending it has simply got to be me, and he’s doing an increasingly efficient job at making me grrr so I might finally gain the confidence to do so.
That will be a black day indeed.
In a previous entry I mentioned a phrase uttered by MW#1 and I pondered what I thought the answer/s might be- Here’s what i’ve come up with….
“I find you intensely interesting… Why do you think I continue to see you?”
You’ve been drinking
You’re fed up of the usual type of women you bring home
I’m a decent fuck
I’m an easy fuck
You feel comfortable with me
You feel sorry for me
I’m the nearest available piece of arse so i’ll do
Let’s turn the question around and imagine I was asking it:
You make me laugh
You stimulate my brain
You are gentle and considerate towards me
You make me feel happy
Because I am weak
You like wrestling in a non-ironic fashion
You are able to hold your own in an argument
Because I care for you
Because I am fucking stupid
Because I need the affection you give me too much
I feel comfortable around you
You accept me for how I am
This is a highly simplistic view on both hypothetical sides, but there’s the ring of truth in all of it… Ugh.
More ugh is how I rant rant rant about my woes but let’s face it, in the short term it’s not like I am going to kick MW#1 to the curb, nor do I want to; what’s more grim is how desperately sad I would feel if he went of his own accord.