Friday, 28 March 2008

Random bouts of laughter.

When you suffer from depression true moments of happiness are few and far between. Laughter happens, but there's no feeling in it a lot of the time. The moment you stop you feel low again.
That's why, when they do happen, no matter what, you treasure them and savour the moment completely.
I had this today whilst on the bus back from Oxford Street.
I felt like complete crap yesterday (I was having an ugly day...y'know, those ones where you feel like the ugliest thing that ever walked the earth?) and it kind of carried on through into today. I decided to go out for a walk to try and get some fresh air, just to see if it would help me at all. Soon felt my mood lighten slightly - although I did buy things, that usually helps - then got on the bus and sat down, just letting my mind wander off.
About half way through my journey, I remembered something from yesterday. Something that made me giggle at the time anyway, but replaying it in my head made me burst out laughing. Loudly. Tears in my eyes and ribs hurting like fuck...on a packed 7 bus!!!!!
I made a bunch of little kids start laughing, and the old lady sitting next to me. All of us were red faced and gasping for air. I must have looked completely insane, but I really didn't care. I held on to this one little gem of a memory and let my crazy sounding laugh out, not bothering to wipe away the tears that were now streaming down my face.
It's the most eleated I've felt in months. The fact that I made other people laugh made me feel even happier. My mood has improved for it and the good news is that I don't feel that ugly anymore. I'm back to my usual self. Laugher is a beautiful thing and a whole load of it came from me today :oD

Monday, 24 March 2008

Can't hack it...

I NEED to get out of this bloody house!!!!!
It's getting to the point where I'm going to go fucking insane. Dad and I seem to be arguing more than ever (tonight included...arrghhh!), I feel like I have sod all privacy (a knock or a lock, that's all I ever ask), there's no space for anything anymore, I'm scared to move anything in case I accidently knock a wire and get yelled at...I NEED SPACE!!!! My own space.
I wish I was moving out in September. Honestly.

I feel so's doing my head in.

Sunday, 23 March 2008

Hooked on Fry & Laurie

I'm in love with these guys at the moment.
Bought series 1 and 2 of 'A bit of Fry & Laurie' whilst out with Nawal last week and they've been on repeat ever since.
There's one particular bit that cracks me up because of its brilliance. Here it is:

"I think it was Donald Mainstock, the great amateur squash player who pointed out how lovely I was. Until that time I think it was safe to say that I had never really been aware of my own timeless brand of loveliness. But his words smote me, because of course you see, I am lovely in a fluffy moist kind of way and who would have it otherwise?
I walk, and let’s be splendid about this, in a lightly accented cloud of gorgeousness that isn’t far short of being, quite simply terrific.
The secret of smooth almost shiny loveliness, of the order of which we are discussing, in this simple, frank, creamy soft way, doesn’t reside in oils, unguents, balms, ointments, creams, astringents, milks, moisturisers, liniments, lubricants, embrocations or balsams, to be rather divine for just one noble moment, it resides, and I mean this in a pink slightly special way, in ones attitude of mind.
To be gorgeous, and high and true and fine and fluffy and moist and sticky and lovely, all you have to do is believe that one is gorgeous and high and true and fine and fluffy and moist and sticky and lovely.
And I believe it of myself, tremulously at first and then with mounting heat and passion, because, stopping off for a second to be super again, I’m so often told it.
That’s the secret really"

Friday, 21 March 2008

Stream-of-conciousness (excuse spelling and lack of punctuation...lack of clarity and sanity too...).

We forgive yet we are still upset at all the snapping and the harshness and the words that wanted to explode from our mouths even though we kept them in. We held our tongues with imaginary metal clamps, producing babbles rather than curse words. Leaving with a push rather than an embrace.
Why oh why oh why why why why why why why why should it be that stupid. Why?
Stupid stupid stupid with extra stupid and a spattering of "What the fuck happened?"
I'm too tired. Waking up hurts. Croak of a back in unison with croak of the bed and croak of the voice moaning that it's too hot and who the hell turned the radiator on to wake people up when they were sleeping quite dreamlessly. Up and awake to a Friday that's supposed to be good but I highly doubt it'll be anything other than a disapointment and a broken promise out of spite. We give eggs around this time, a different day and week each year, because apparently Jesus liked chocolate and believed in the holy bunny. A time of fertility and rebirth, but only do it if you're married, folks, except you pagans for who his day was originaly invented for anyway. Sorry about your hijacking, but here, have an egg.
I should clean this keyboard...there's cranberry juice spilt carelessly down the keyboard and it's sticky to the touch. Sticky to the type. Letters AQZS and caps lock all stiffened by a boucing red berry. Technology is so perfect, so advanced, so state of the art...yet it can't protect itself from a crushed berry attack when its idiot owner deciced to shake the bottle before pouring but forgot to replace the cap first.
Wants and needs are playing on my mind, I know what I want but I know I don't need the hassle if it all goes wrong but I can't say a word against it because I'll be back to paragraph one all over again.

Monday, 17 March 2008

I've been proposed to!

Yes. I have been asked to be a blushing bride.
Thank you, thank you ever so much...but wait 'cos it gets better...

...the question was popped by a gross dude in Sainsbury's *shudders*

I don't half get some creepy men after me sometimes. It really is quite gross.
This dude was following me around the shop earlier this afternoon when I went in to grab a few bits and bobs. Well, I say following, he was pretty much walking behind me the whole time and asking if he can grab anything for me. Rather embarassing when you're down the tampon isle and all you can hear is "I am not scared. I get them for you. Regular? Super? I don't mind!" (yes, that really happened...).
I left vowing not to return for a few weeks just to try and shake off the sick feeling of having to ever bump into him again. Fat lot of good the vowing did, 'cos I had to go back with mum to get easter eggs for my little cousins. I tried the "I don't partake of Easter" excuse, but she told me to stop being a grouch and dragged me along anyway.
Shopping was fine and we didn't bump into anyone unsavory...until we got to the till and he was there. He chatted to my mum about sharing the eggs we had just bought, then his eyes fall to me and he goes "Ah, so this must be your beautiful daughter. Hello again"
I mumbled hello then walked off to start packing bags, but he stoped me saying "may I see your hand please?"
I looked over to mum but she just shrugged, so I held out my hands and the dude leaned in and said "Ah, you wear a lot of rings, but the important finger is bare".
Mum burst out laughing and I quickly pulled my hands back and carried on stuffing bags with eggs. I did manage to mumble "and it's staying that way" but I doubt it could be heard over mum's cackles.
He then started going "You can make beautiful babies, I see it in your eyes. We could make them...I could take that finger for you."
Mum cracked up again and I just said "Mate, I'm already taken...and!"
"You are not taken. I see no ring. I would get you one if you will be mine."
"I aint being wife number 15 or whatever so bike it!"
then mum cut in with "yeah, her boyfriend wouldn't be too pleased" then "but she annoys me enough, you can take her."
"Aha, a mother's permission is binding where I am from."
"Oh just fuck off."
"Shelly, don't swear."
"Just pay and go before he pulls a dress from under the counter or something..."

I feel gross now.
Why do women enjoy attention like that? Seriously? I can't fucking stand it.
He seemed like a complete wasteman *shudders*

Urghhhhh, someone run me a bath...and get me a scouring pad.

Saturday, 15 March 2008

Fiends in human shape.

Urrgggghhh...why do I always seem to befriend the company of liars, big mouths and backstabbers?
Over the last few weeks I've had so many grievences caused by people who I used to be able to happily call my friends. It's amazing how some people can turn in an instant.
It's now getting to the point where I'm becoming increasingly upset, a tad on the lonely side and at a loss as to who the hell I'm supposed to be able to trust now. Things are driving me crazy because I don't really know who I can talk to in confidence anymore, well, apart from a stuffy therapist clutching a clipboard and gazing at me in a condecending manner. Not really what you want when all you're after is friendly banter.
This probably seems like a trip to paranoia land, but so much has happened that I don't want to blabber on about publicly...arggghhhh people!!!!

Thursday, 13 March 2008

So I can actually write...

I had a tutorial with Leone today.
I was completly bricking it last night because I had written sod all to show her for the portfolio. I gulped a glass of wine then hacked away at my keyboard just to get down SOMETHING...ANYTHING. I finished at about 2 in the morning with 500 words to print off and give to her ready for scrutiny.
Shockingly she actually really liked what I had written. It was mainly a piece of characterisation about a once glamourous woman now turned agoraphobic with only her son for company. Aside from a few alterations - I'm a bit wordy - she said it had a beautiful rhythm to it and it had the right levels of sadness and fun. We mainly sat around discussing where I can take it, like if I was going to leave it the way it was to make it a snapshot, add an inciting incident or add a twist (she told me that she hates twists and hopes I'll steer clear of them though).
I really can't believe she was that happy with it. I always think I suck at what I do, but this has really put me in good spirits.

Tuesday, 11 March 2008

Interesting homewwork...

Since it's now my easter break, Madam Leone has set some mad homework for us to be getting on with.
I printed the list of stuff today and had a read through. It's interesting but funny and a weenie bit weird!
Aside from the usual reading we have to do, we've also got weekly writing tasks to complete.

Week one: Spend an hour at your local bus station or train station, and make a conscious effort to overhear as many conversations as possible. Use one of them as the basis for a short story of any form. FINISH THE STORY.

Week two: Every day this week, write on one of these subjects for 15 minutes: Write about an incident that could be used against you if you ever ran for political office; tell a story in the form of a love letter; write about your worst habit; write about how your parent explained (or didn’t explain!) the facts of life to you (I do mean sex!)

Week three: Every day this week, write on one of these subjects for 15 minutes: write a sci-fi or horror story entirely in alternating chat lines in an Internet chat room; write a story about someone having their fortune told; invent a character who sees a phone number on a wall – what happens when he/she calls the number?

I can say, without shadow of a doubt, that I'm going to enjoy the exercises for week two a lot. Political office and worst habbit especially. The phone number one from week three will be a laugh as well. I'm brimming with ideas for once, just keep your fingers crossed that I'll be able to put them down in words.

Monday, 10 March 2008

Freezing my hypothetical knackers off...

I'm so cold!
My friend Abi and I had to trek back home from Roehampton because of some problem with the busses. We waited around for a 72 for a good hour, then decided it would just be quicker to walk it since there was no sign of the thing. We go down Roey lane but no bus, into Barnes but no bus, into Castelnau and still no fucking bus...turns out most weren't running or had been diverted because the bus station had been taped off by police. Fuck knows what's going on down there for that to happen, all I know is that I'm now officially knackered and I'm damn sure Abi must be as well.
However, before I go and tuck my tired self into my gorgeously warm and cosy bed, I'm going to share my day with you peoples.
I was rudely awoken by my alarm, to which I kept hitting snooze, but I finally realised I needed to get up as I only had half an hour left to get ready. Ran around the house in a panic then legged it out of the door and into the cold.
Usual walk to the bus stop with music blaring from my headphones to drown out the schoolkids. Waited an hour for the 72 and just about made it to my Romanticism lecture. That was boring as hell.
Went up to my advanced narrative class straight after English and met with the crazy peoples. I sat there like a lemon whilst they nattered on about anime and watched puffs of smoke go past the window. Class was cool: Leone sent us out to watch two people having a conversation and we had to write down all their movements. Hard to do when people realise you're watching them and start to clam up or get hostile though.
Second part of the lesson was just damn funny. Diana and I had to sit and have a conversation whilst Abi wrote down as much as we were saying as possible in order to catch our natural voices, then body language had to be noted as well as something else but I can't remember. We then had to do a touching exercise. Well, only us brave ones who didn't mind someone else stroking us did the exercise anyway. The rest of the class watched. I was paired up with Abi who had to close her eyes then grab my hand, feel my face and stroke my hair. I had to do likewise afterward. Classmates and Leone were laughing at us all half the time, especially the girl who came over to watch Abi and I.
What an odd thing to ask us to do...think I may have accidently gone up Abi's nose at one point. No worries though 'cos she did that to me. Lol.

I will edit this blog when I'm no so cold, but right now I just want to curl up and watch QI in the warm!!

Saturday, 8 March 2008

Don't lick the passion fruit.

Oh what a day...what a couple of days in fact.

Emma and I went out today because I SERIOUSLY needed to get out of the house and have some female company before I went fucking insane. She pretty much needed to get out of the house and have some less irritating company before she went insane too.
Aside from still feeling like crap, and her the same most probably, it was a really nice day. We met up in Hammersmith for lunch then went for a wander around the shops for a little while. It was freezing and starting to spit down a bit, so of course Em decided that Oxford Street would be a good idea.
We waited around the bus station for a 10, then waited around Kensington High street for about 50 years because the driver was so bloody slow. Ok, so it was an hour rather than 5o years, but it felt that way. The only thing that stopped Em from going mad and me from falling asleep was the driver of another bus sneaking up alongside waving, winking and blowing kisses at us.
It started to piss down as well. Not that great really when I had no hood and no umbrella...and Emma was sitting there in just a t-shirt and a really thin cardigan, so when we got off we were going "ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh" whilst trying to stay under shop shelter and dodge the elbows of other shoppers. People are so rude and push-tastic considering as they don't really have anywhere to go...
Anyway, we finally managed to get to Dorothy Perkins - where Em pretty much bought half the shop - as well as a quick peek around Evans for shoes, then we got a bus back down to Queensway and ended up in a funky cocktail bar. £8.50 a cocktail but FUCK they were nice!!!
I had one called a Passion Star - was rum with orange juice and passion fruit - and Emma had one called a Painkiller. OH MY GOD they should sell them as sex aids...I kid you not, I've never had a drink like it. Cannot describe how good it was. Tottally worth the stupid amount of money (plus I was in serious needed of a drink today).
We left at about 6 because Emma had a date with her new bloke and needed to get home. When she left I decided to have a wander around the shops. Bought some stuff, as you do, then I walked back home and collapsed on my bed.
It was so damn nice to go out. What with uni, the homework and the general lack of friends with free time, I barely get to go out anymore. A trip OUTSIDE with my girl and a good dose of booze has really worked wonders.

Tuesday, 4 March 2008

Freeing my inner child.

Leone gave me back my story for Writing Fiction 1 yesterday.
It had a whole page of critism regarding what was right and wrong with my piece, but I've only just been feeling brave enough to read it.
It actually isn't as bad a report as I feared. Madam Leone said my weak points are wordiness and poor sentence construction - which is cool because I know I have major problems with those - as well as a poorly constructed 8 point story arc (I wasn't in for that lesson, that probably explains it).
These are things I know I can work on with a little bit of positive energy. I'm only stupidly wordy when I'm not sure of myself, so I'm going to spend some time this week making sure I know exactly what I want to do with this semester's portfolio. As for poor sentence construction, that's something I'm constantly trying to improve. Most are aware that a lot of what I know has been self-taught because of complications at school, so I'm having to play catch up with my peers who were already taught the basics. I think a throrough read of Strunk and White is in order.
I'm really chuffed with the more positive feedback she's written for me. She said I have excellent characterisation skills, a beautful eye for detail and a great sense of humour. She also said that I should carry on writing from a child's perspective because it appears to be the most natural writing voice I fall into. Hey, cool by me...
Overall I'm feeling quite positive about where I'm heading, which makes a change because I'm usually not happy with things related to my course. I don't think I'll ever be a traditional story writer, but I've given it a go and didn't completely flop.
At least with the advanced narrative module I can write stories that don't have to follow an arc and that can just rely on good characterisation. It means I can play with things a little bit more and go back to the snapshots I'm comfortable with.

Sunday, 2 March 2008

A message from the past...

I just opened up one of the books I've borrowed from the uni library and a piece of paper fell out.
It says:

Beef stock cubes"

Hello my ghostly - and hungry - lit lover from 2006 (I'm assuming it's that year because that's when it was last taken out before I got to it).

Up, down, up, down. Here we go again...

Decided to blog a bit whilst on my tea and naan bread essay break (screw what the advert says, naan is better than a kit-kat any day!).

Today - just like every day for the last three weeks now - has been a rather up and down.
It's becoming irritating. One moment I'm elated, laughing hysterically and playing a mean air axe along to the radio, the next I find myself conked out on my bed falling asleep and deciding whether I want to cry or hit something. It's like temporary bipolarity has struck me down and decided to go in fast-forward just for the sheer hell of it.
I do know what's causing it all though, it's my little old friend, stress!
Without going into full scale detail - because this is only a 15 minute break I'm taking - I have a lot happening and a lot to worry about at the moment. It's all swirling around my head in murky blues and greys. Storm clouds and lightning in the form of tears and headaches. I'm finding it hard to sleep, to concentrate, to enjoy things, I feel about as desirable as a painted boulder, and I keep getting the most stupid food cravings EVER! Honestly, it's been chocolate then carrots, then naan bread, then chocolate in naan bread (and no...before anyone thinks it...just no!).

In truth , this happens to me a lot, but I wish it wouldn't happen during deadline time. Falling asleep whilst trying to read stuffy literary theory and write for my essay just isn't cool.

If anyone knows of any instant pick-me-ups then please let me know.
That's what email and text messaging was invented for!