Monthly Archives: April 2007
Whilst out cruising the neighbourhood over the weekend I spied a rather rotund spiky-haired boy standing wordlessly outside an open door to a terrace. My interest was piqued as when he turned around I noticed he was sporting a pair of silver handcuffs, his hands cuffed tightly behind his back. I couldn’t see anyone through the doorway; he didn’t seem to be overly concerned. He merely twisted slowly this way and that under the sun.
Some people watch Saturday morning cartoons- I watch porn. I was watching some absolutely horrific early 90’s stuff where the guy looked slightly Chuck Norris-esque with beard, tan and ponytail with leopard print slacks. That is how I would describe them: slacks. Not pretty. Sort of like he was a member of Color Me Badd working his second job. I was not getting turned on by the Alexis Carrington themed action so I moved on. Still nothing… I was finding all the sex rather depressing until I almost spat my cup of coffee out onto my shiny laptop whilst laughing upon hearing the lines:
“Yeaahhhh… That’s right…. You like that big chunk of man meat, don’t you?”
*mumbles* (she was occupied at the time)
Later I drank half a bottle of cheap bucks fizz (£2.49 of awesomeness) before retiring under the duvet before Cinderella hour. I held Patrick tightly and pressed a hot water bottle to myself to ease the tension in my lower back (crap posture, standing all day) and so that I could pretend someone was lying behind me holding me. I need a back rub. When I awoke I spent a long while gently sliding my fingers over my hip and waist and imagining someone other than myself experiencing the soft warmth of my skin.
“When I look for the lightning, it never strikes. When I look away, it does.”
Lightning – 1977 – Paul and Marlene Kos
Strangely compelling: “A silent film of collaged and painted sequences of lovemaking between Schneemann and her then partner, composer James Tenney; observed by the cat, Kitch.”
NSFW Fuses – 1965 – Carolee Schneeman
Today for a laugh I gatecrashed a PGCE-only recruitment day at a local school. I thought the interview went well, touching on subjects such as Mexican wrestling, injuries and the like, but alas I was not invited back. I, or my work “did not fit”.
I am decidedly nonplussed about it. In other *much* more important news, my beloved 11 year-old HP printer has died. The belt inside it’s grey boxy structure that drove the cartridges shredded into violin bow horsehair the night before my interview, so no more printing.
I’d dearly like to fix the poor thing as it’s (usually) reliable and is quick to start and print but it will cost too much to do (40 bucks), especially as I can get a new basic printer for £30… It seems such a waste to throw it away, especially as I know whatever I buy won’t last as long :(
British Library The Three Living and Three Dead
I will write about something different today. I am making an effort. So let’s go sciencetastic.
Over Easter I visited the Hunterian Museum at the Royal College of Surgeons. I’ve always wanted to visit it (because I am weird) and I was not disappointed. There were babies in jars and anatomical weirdness galore along with the bits of animals crossing many species.
It was arranged by subject so that you’d have a case full of jars of digestive organs from different species, or a case of eyes or vertebrae etc so that you could compare how different structures are put together in differing animals. The best/worst sections were the morbid anatomy cases filled with things that go wrong with our bodies.
The collection was put together in the 1700’s, therefore lots of the specimens involve syphilis. From the terrible erosion of skulls, bones and soft tissues I gained new insight into just how bad that disease can be and how horrible it can get is it is left untreated. Monstrous. The congenital form is particularly sad. Get yourself checked regularly!
It was somewhat odd to be browsing the specimens with my Mother and come across a case full of cancer-riddled breasts (she has had two lumpectomies) and some jars full of nasal polyps (that I have to have excavated from my head).
The most glorious was the section of a boy’s head showing the polyp that didn’t turn out to be benign (it could happen to me one day) which when you looked around that back you could see his face.
Wellcome Library Electronic Texts
Excellent evening out and about with Leia Ewok Village. Long time no see so we covered a wiiide selection of topics in our increasingly drunken conversation. I even bought dinner.
I was pretty drunken by the time I got home; maudlin head holding proceeded to occur once I stretched out in bed- thus the pitiful photograph and rambling.
I think it all hit me once I was home alone. Stuff that we’d previously laughed our arses off about was distinctly unfunny when recalling seeing two people walking hand-in-hand whilst curled up drunk and lonesome next to Patrick.
I thought about how not a single person i’ve loved has held my hand other than to drag me somewhere and that they would never do so as it would imply some sort of connection that was something other than “that novelty funny fuckable girl who’s too comfortable to commit to…” I would compare it to sex workers not kissing because it’s too intimate. Mind you the said-same people have kissed me (one extensively), so I guess it comes down to experiences of small intimacies that feel important.
I really don’t have anything novel to say, do I? Just re-treading the same things i’ve been writing about for the last three-and-a-half years… It’s a wonder anyone reads it.
Upon thinking of MW#1 whilst inebriated
I’m not that important
I’m easy to pick up when the going gets bad with whatever female he’s with
I don’t cause much fuss so am easy to ignore
I feel content when I curl up next to him
His brain is interesting
He loves me
He doesn’t love me
I’ll always be the one he does not choose
“Baby, baby when I lay with you/There’s no place I’d rather be…”
Seriously, Feel For You is one of the greatest tracks evah… (4.18 onwards is where it’s at) Be it by Prince or Chaka it is awesome.
Epiphany :: The Best Of – Chaka Khan
http://rapidshare.com/files/4134164/chakakhanepipthbesof.rar 70mb vbr [buy]
Hey Fellas… added Friday glee: http://www.zshare.net/download/usher-pop-ya-collar-mp3.html
Upload an image and get a colour palette based on that image produced for you: colr.org
YouTube: Law & Order: Special Letters Unit
Every day this week I’ve woken up with thoughts of “duvet day” running through my brain. Alas, although teachers are well-known for going “on the sick” I am too responsible to bunk off skool. I think I could do with looking after myself a little this weekend; I will be supremely grateful at the end of the day on Friday to go home and curl up… even if I spend a least a couple of minutes cursing the name of UFC…
Sigh. School today. Already feeling fed up, and I haven’t even got there yet.
The sun is too bright of late; I think I need to hang something behind my curtains so that I can get some decent sleep. Not that the ridiculously noisy fuckwits next door help very much on that front either.
Speaking of fuckwits, I am feeling pangs of remorse over the missive I sent MW#1 the other day. This is an indicator of just how diseased my mind really is, as I don’t really have much to be sorry about, apart from having the odd spazz now-and-then. I guess I feel remorseful as the spazzing is so typically female, and in that way I consider I was weak.
I do not consider myself feminine and consider being so to equal weakness. At the same time when I have had acknowledgement that I do possess charms of a feminine nature it is important to me. Just small things said, gestures made… maybe this is why I am easily fucked with.
So fucking tired. Bed.
So i’m home alone on a Saturday night. I’ve had two weeks to mark three classes worth of books and they are still sitting in piles on the floor. I figure i’ll do them tomorrow…
I did manage to put in a call to Nitram so I have accomplished one good thing today… During the process of transferring old emails to the new machine an oversight meant that I overwrote the informative email I wrote to MW#1 wherein I expressed displeasure at my situation. So I spent ten minutes re-writing it from memory so that I had a record of it. Text is strangely important to me.
I think I might go and open my tiny bottle of champagne that Caversham Princess bestowed upon me for my birthday and enjoy moping for a while.
…Aaand the honeymoon is over. Vista is spazzing over my wireless connection when it returns from sleeping and even when it starts up; through poking about I hope it is now fixed by my less-than-fair hand.
The big problem is that I can’t use my Zen on the machine because I need to install some firmware onto my Zen that I can only do on XP. I have 98se or Vista. Sigh.
MW#1: Just when I thought it was safe to go back in the water… It amuses me that he feels like he has to be the man to all women; I think he should start smaller and work up- You could try behaving like a decent human being to me first, Sweetheart.
The main problem to this theorem is that this idea works on the basis that he gives a fuck, and the jury is most certainly out on that one. I’m not overly unhappy or upset; I feel quite blah about it in fact- maybe my heart’s becoming blacker.
I must admit I am a little tired of living my life so far as the novelty act- The one that gets looked up when they break up with their gf/ when their gf is inferior/ when their gf won’t give it up/ when they’re bored/ drunk/ lonesome and who is of minor importance if one of the previous situations is not extant. I can extend this feeling of being the novelty act into my work and my relations with colleagues too, so maybe it’s not purely down to my relationship abuses- Never taken seriously nor thought to be appropriately professional.
I’ve just got to remember not to believe a single gosh-darned thing he says… I was overly cynical and questioning before but now I must be like a firewall and let all kind words and compliments bounce off me. An icy firewall. Woo.
Speaking of which, I wish Zonelabs would hurry up and make a Vista-compatible firewall- the windows one is weirding me out…
Back in the county.
I arrived back with the new machine- I must admit that I am greatly enjoying it’s Vista-encumbered self. The reasoning behind this of course is simply that i’ve been using 98se for the last seven years or abouts so something as new as Vista is super-great in comparison.
Don’t get me wrong, my old machine served me very very well, and I love it’s brick-like being… but I am just enjoying having something new. And quiet, quick and feature-filled. It’s silver, alas but my pirate software works really well on it arrrrrrrrrrrgh…
nopoke looks a bit odd on the new machine. Ah well- a good reflection on it’s owner.
I am “pleasantly unique”. Go me.
Out of the county ’til Thursday. Am itching for season two of The Wire having rampaged through the first lot whilst sprawled in the nest. Even though I knew what was coming, my stomach still chilled as the team raced to the scene of their officer down; sadly I rather let myself down a couple of minutes later by shrieking with excitement at the sight of Dominic West with his top off (physique, manfur). Go me.
Eugh. Going through a “I want to be appreciated” phase. It will pass… I just have to keep myself leashed on the inappropriate texting front, even if I can’t stop thinking impropriety…
Which is just plain fucked up, as it was around this time last year that MW# royally fucked me over. After all the compliments about how I feel/look/smell, after all the statements like how i’m comforting or like how he longs to wake up next to me or that he loves me, I still remember his comment on how he was “visiting relatives”…
One year on I still find myself wondering if he really means anything he says. I’d love to believe him, I want to believe, but nothing is ever backed up with action. I imagine he tells other women the same things. And yet I wake up in the morning and wish I could feel his warmth up against my back. The truly pathetic thing is that this ridiculous thought provides comfort to me when i’m lying sleep-stained and rumpled, alone (except for Patrick of course) and warm in my big lonesome nest.
Before you ask, an explanation of the bulge in my pants and the trailing wire: I tucked my Zen in my underwear as I had too much to carry upstairs with me in one go and did not possess the appropriate number of hands. Or pockets. And I was sans trousers as I was in the process of crawling into my nest. Remember, this is where the magic never happens.
I was feeling happy after a meeting with McCy, three-quarters of a bottle of perry and Acceptable In The 80’s on loop. Forgive me. Was muy excellentay to chew the fat with her- I have as usual been mighty poor at keeping in touch. She was extremely generous and gifted me season one of The Wire. I will now not be doing much marking tomorrow…
I am still alive. And i’ve got hugs for you if you were born in the 80’s (and maybe a year or two either side).
I am now installed in a new abode avec Caversham Princess and am on my Easter break. Woo.
So what have I been up to? What am I planning to do in my two school-free weeks?
Well, I moved house. I have overly inconsiderate neighbours who are unable to talk at a normal volume. I am still living amongst boxes and assorted detritus but me and Patrick have managed to put together an excellent nest (see photo) that I am greatly enjoying lounging about in during my time off. I got paid. I’m spending loads of my hard-earned cash on the increased bills I now have to pay, taking my Mum out to lunch, a fancy router and a dress that makes me look totally TEH HAWT. That I don’t really have anything to wear to. Awesome.
I got overly excited at seeing a new Maplin store in a local industrial park (dork), I actually enjoyed taking rolls of old carpet to the local amenity site and seeing the way things were organised and all the different people unloading different things and have spent most of today being excited configuring the router and being excited at being connected to the internets by something other than dial-up.
I even got to spend an evening being wined and take-away dined by MW#1- Yes, amazingly he managed to come in under the “three months without contact Mister and you’re history” limit. I wait to see if there’s a repeat of that behaviour. It was good to see the Walking Carpet, even if he is a complete Nerfherder at times; there was lots of embarrassing-in-front-of-the-housemate playful slagging off of each other- Choice quote:
(MW#1 rubs his Vista-infected laptop against my arm)
Me: Ewwwwwwww/AAAkkkkk! (recoils in horror) I’m going to have to burn this now (points to jumper) and I only washed it today…
When I saw him there was lots of hugging and holding on offer, because apparently there’s some sort of quota system being run that I was previously unaware of- He gives me lots to “keep me going for a while…” I freely admit that I long to be tactile with him but at the same time I was like, “Dude! Do not give me hugs to keep me sweet! You came within two weeks of losing the awesome individual that is me. Sawht it ahht…” The wine was uber tasty however so I decided to keep the vitriol contained within my head. I didn’t get to see Wrestlemania either. As my students would say- Thass well rubbahrshh…
So I need to mark three classes of books, unpack and organise and go visit the family at some point. I am slightly excited yet horrified at the prospect of a shiny new Vista enabled/encumbered laptop that might be waiting to ambush me up North courtesy of my Dad in a good mood; at least if this is the case I will be able to rant first hand about how eeeevil it is sure to be.
Right, must get back to the mirror to continue dancing around in my underwear to Acceptable in the 80’s.