Stealthy Frenzy Of Belief
|Dec. 21st, 2007 12:41 am The Weaker|
Tut, playing catch up are we, the only interesting news from the week apart from seeing Alex, the Mexican who did my portrait on Friday and having coffee in Starbucks with Edgar and Lew recently recovered from the flu, and his departure on saturday, me and Evil Lewis going to my first concert ever, THE KAISER CHIEFS, with supporting acts THE PIGEON DETECTIVES (awww, kooky hair, cute top and accented rock are my favourite) and JING JONG JANG WHATSIT BAND THE NAME OF WHICH ESCAPES ME, and it all being rather wonderful me standing for 4 hours in a packed room with great music and strobing lights, being occasionally doused in spit and beer droplets.
Me and Evil Lewis went back to my London Pomme De Terre, with a bottle of wine, pork scratchings and indulged in watching Hazel O' Conner videos, Eighth Day, and Grace Jones in Vamp all rather delicious, and Evil Lewis told me all about Superhero-ness, and oh it was all so wonderful, when he retired to bed, I got all Philip Larkin and began to dwell onthe thought of all this coming to an end, and I was slightly miffed at the thought and had a panic attack!
Sunday I rose at midday, Evil Lewis knocking meekly on the door to the living room "Simon are you awake?" my husky reply "yes" and we took coffee and maryland chip cookies in front of the television Cash In The Attic and Keeping up Appearances if you please, then we went into Croydon Town Centre and had a wander round forbidden planet and HMV where I got a rather scrumptous 49p button badge saying "As Seen On TV" (well if you count 2 shots in the audience of "The London Debate") and then had dinner in some Pizza Hutch, then Evil Lewis went home and I so did I.
My beautiful boyfriend felt guilty about his meanness during his stay and I told he should remember it, and how it affected us....hmmm.
The week has been spent trying to get ready for "The Simon and Lewis Christmas at home special" which involved buying a rather limp, thin and spindley "Worth it!" Woolworths tree, covering it 99p lights and ball-balls hung on with dental floss and draped in cheapy tinsle, oh dear! I've made the wrapping paper, and done my home-made xmas cards, most of which may never reach their destination, oh, I got my new mobile which is my sisters old mobile, not transfered it yet, pfffft....
Tuesday, I woke up late, despairing moments, catching bus and train to slutton to see Sue, and we galavanted off into the highstreet to buy a mulititude of things for the christmas period, also bumped into Martin and Shari in Cafe Nero where we exchanged pleasentaries and talked, making plans for the Thursday dinner, then after Ray dropped me back to the flatlet with the "Big Telly" I stumped up a fiver in petrol money, and the fucking telly's reception is rather dodgy, so I watched Derek Jarman's The Tempest (Toyah Wilcox and Christopher Biggins and full frontal male nudity) "Our little life rounded by a sleep", and then Beckett on film: Waiting for Godot, (Irish) the first act funny, the second act harrowing "we are born, we die, all in the same second" oh, this is good for my deep-seated pychological fears....tut!
Oooh, and they rang me the Job Centre, saying that my Incapacity Claim has been re-opened and to ring the Income Support to let them know, as I write this such orders have not been carried out as it's such a fucking liberty I refuse to even think about anything beaurocratic for a very long time!!!!!
Wednesday I slept and slept and managed to crawl out of bed to get the 152 to Colliers wood, get Dads ready meal, ooh, popped into a piercing tattoo place nearby, the cutest piercer, the biggest darkest eyes, the darkest hair, little baseball cap and hoody, tats and piercings, couldn't find my little black studs, but I found a nicer stud....just appreciate the aesthetic beauty of that boy....no you can't, can you? Bitter, resentful and sickened!
Just sat in my 'rents living room, calls were made to Cherbie, Treacle; all lovely, all charming. I was round at the 'rents till quite quite late, having real relationship-affirming conversations with My Beautiful Boyfriend that really strengthens our...erm....relationship also on the phone, but yeahs, I waited in for Mumsie who is on nights, and didn't get back till gone 10pm and we watched Charlie Brooker's Festive Screenwipe which had an amusing visual joke which involved Bonnie Langford being compared to Ronald Mcdonald and we saw a fat old strumpet in a rather offensive blouse doing sign-language to popular beat combo's on one of the music channels.....and me and Mumsie indulged in rather ribaldrous conversation before I knew it was quarter to midnight and it was time for me to catch the 152 to its terminus in Pollards Hill, all the way trying to stave off fits of despair of the idea ofmy own demise, something which I have been having silly fits about during the last week, which is rather embarrassing to the self, and would rather wish that my mind didn't do.
Had to wrap the aphorisms before bed.....fell asleep on the sofa, was hoping to be up early enough for the Group they-rape-me, so I could take photographs of the room for the set design for the future fringe production of a play I am surely going to write, but instead I overslept, naughty, slothful Simon!!!!! Got bus, train, tube to stand under Freddie, to meet Edward, was unusually late, but Edward passed the time in Virgins unimaginatively and uncatchily renamed Zaaaaaaaaaavvvviiii (bluergh!!!) we tottered along to The Bagel Place where I unusually paid for lunch, we indulged in banter, then went onto The National Gallery and The National Portrait Gallery, playing the rather innapropriate "Guess The illness" in the first one, and religious blankety blank in the other....oooh and I sang carols by the norwegian tree in Trafalgar Sqaure with Edward, "O come, oh ye faithful"....indeed, "oh come we adore him" belted out in my Cilla voice I think is something ironic and post-modernism for an athiest (pretence?).....ooh, and Edward can fill you in on the meeting of one of his acquantances who was a stand-up comedian! Pffft....."cute, though" Edward adds between gropes.....ha!!!! Did give him my design consious framed thingy, his was Leviticus 20.13, look it up!!! (It the one about gays being evil and should be murdered....charming, mind you if you eat shellfish you're in the shit too!!!)
The tube to south wimbledon and I had to freshen up with a pop into the newsagents for some soft mints and then a dash round debenhams cosmetics counter to get the apparent ammonia smell off Lews Coat (Edwards jealous comment) and the fag smell off before I met Martin and Shari, a trip in his big car off to Banstead, such wonderful conversation, as we got to zizzi's and met with Belinda and her partner Paul (Think Anne Bancroft and Sylvester McCoy) ooh and Billy Bob Thornton for Martin and Shane off The L word for Shari, they liked there home-made cards (red splodges) which prompted Belinda to remember an amusing anecdote when I rang her from A & E after a threat of suicide and told her I had a cut on my ear and she said "ooh well if you were aiming for your wrist you missed" quite light humour compared to Martins lot at the moment, with his Mother ill, his Brother on the verge of a nervous breakdown and he himself finding a lump, I just held his hand and well....I was heartbroken, but the evening was full of lovely conversation nonetheless, me and Paul talked about Pinter and Potter and Me and Belinda revelled in the old days (she had a polyp removed from the inside of her nose just removed)....ooh Paul mentioned a website where you can send in written stuff which was cited for me, which was rather lovely, he marked (a-level stylee) a monologue I did in 2005 about a character who recounts the mundanities of his life before he throws himself under the wheels of a passing high-speed train I did say "well you must dig it out because I've lost my copy and I've just thought of a title "Passenger Taken Ill" which was rather nifty I thought, I gave them all there framed aphorisms scrawled with calligraphy pen doused in bloblets of ink, I shant give them away just yet as they are for my friends eyes only, I put effort in but well, I am my own worst critic (no, anyone is a far worse critic....but, still) but they were all touched.
Martin gave me a lift home and here I am, waiting in for the cooker tomorrow, Treacle on saturday, Lew arrives sunday/monday, lots of food/pressie shopping in between!!!!!!!!!
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|Dec. 13th, 2007 08:31 pm Weak|
Oh, I have neglected this worthless little blog for over a week, what a blow for you! Well I have been tending to a rather fluey Lew (My Beautiful Boyfriend) and have gained my own rather disgusting consumptive like hacking cough of my own, feels like I've been gargling razorblades (ha!ha! -felt like I should've been doing something else with the razorblades over the paranoia I suffered with a grumpy, meanie bf, just "narky" as he puts it, sorted now...buuuut) yes, we've been in my flatlet since he got here on Friday, and well it's all been a little trying, especially with all my charges, a lot I didn't get to do, I mean today I should've been to my group they-rape-me, then into college to do my editing, pop in to the job centre, back to have a drink with college mates, then off to charring cross road to get psychogeography signed by The Will Self, then onto some aquatic themed party with C, none of which took place
Instead, me and grumpy boyf went over to a squity mumsie (whose been very kind in ransacking her life-savings just to keep me in supernoodles, gas and knock-off rental DVD's) more "ooh, we're stressy" taking place, the bf being much better than the previous days enjoying the abundant feast of chicken dippers and oven chips..."ooh, you look so pale, that coughs terrible etc. etc." Mumsie winning the gold in pointing out the bloody obvious, but so lovely, so lovely, and the guilt cuts through me as I get more money out of her bank account "it's only money" she says....but her money, money she works so fucking hard to earn...sorry getting distracted by Never Mind The Buzzcocks, don't want the bf perving over Simon Amstell, Patrick Woolf etc....anyway....we get some shopping, go back to mumsies, my mother dressed as a dalek for our delectation, the egg whisk and plunger pointing out in a rather peculiar way....anyway me and the bf sorted out the grumpy meaniness thingy on the bus home and all was well, when we got home we even kissed on the lips which we haven't done for five days :D I should ramble on more about the week that has passed, but I really can't be bothered.....
oh, on the monday I went for this photoshoot thing @ doubletake studios in farringdon, sitting around for hours in this rather posh, bar like reception with this blonde giggly bimbo, in a tiny little black dress 'n' heels lathered in make-up, pouring me champagne, having lots of foundation and blusher put on my face in a glitzy...erm....make-up room with those bulb-bordered mirrors and things on my eyes....not cucumbers but should be, my hair made stylishly messy....then more waiting around in the bar/waiting room, then lovely french lady photographer made me do poses in a seires of sets, one a white room, one with red-brick wall and leather sofa, etc. etc. anyway I was posing in my cravat 'n' waistcoat, the stripey suit, the black blazer n starry tie, suggesting my own poses like a st-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-aa-r......they tried to sell me them in a personalised big screen slideshow, bought one digital print, not going to get them till the beginning of next year, bang goes the xmas portrait for ma! (which was my cover for senseless egotism, really it was just an "experience", pah!)
Oooh, found some photos of a plonkdud's plonker on the bfs phone (I was through no fault of my own browsing through his mobile due to my usual paranoia) and spent the whole of last sunday wracked by this betrayal imagining the worst possible scenarios of an affair, of my inadiquacies, all the rest of it, making myself sick, went to see Treacle bought her flowers as she deserved them, she was greatful for the blooms, and she was chatty and lovely, "disassociative" and she told me to talk to him...which I did, he said it was absolutely nothing, just some guy he talked to, n texted n hadn't met, I questioned him about it, saying it looked dodgy, but it was all out of context, and although I felt a chump, I believed that "nothings going on" and he watched Cranford, with me tidying up in the background.
Nothing else to report really, tuesday upset me, because I felt I couldn't leave moody lew and go off and enjoy myself and Edward told me that sian (I thought you spelt it Shhh-arrn) and Matthew were asking after me, that warmed the cockles of my heart, and we will see each other again in jan I promise you all :D yes....well my busy schedule was unfairly cleared by illness....viruses are bastards....
....oh, and apparently I am not as funny as Joan Rivers!!!!
P.S. Hope the paranoid arguing in my head will stop....not fair...thought me and the bf were on the rocks, but at this moment in time things are looking up :)
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|Dec. 5th, 2007 10:56 pm Oddities, Oneism and Orlando (WEDNESDAY)|
Me and the kids from College were a bit silly today, lunchtime in McDonalds proves a bit too much and we sort of descend into playground banter and giggly fits, I however sort of do a bad impression of it!
Although a nice little line came up in print journalism:
ROSE: Simon, are you okay?
SIMON: Yes, everyone knows that.....oh am I okay? I thought you said something else.
Saw Mumsie, she'd texted saying "why don't you call your poor ol' mum" so I paid her a visit, she helped with the money woes, taking one load off my shoulders, I had a long-ish conversation with my boyfriend, me being "soppy" and saying lots of sweet-nothings, oh how I wished him to be with me everyday, there is so much I want to say to him, I have fictional encounters in my head with him all the time, we talk, argue and fuck all in my own head, but when we're together, words are not always needed, we simply be and when all anxiety is laid to rest, when the trivialities of life are locked away in a draw, for both of us, then I am truly happy, blissful it is!
Debbie a friend of Mumsies came to the house, she is in recovery from alcoholism and is doing well, we can have a mutual understanding about mental health and benefit bastardry which is nice.
Then home, did a boi thing, slightly worried that people can see through the windows but not much chance with the lights off, then I had pizza and watched Sally Potter's Orlando.
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|Dec. 5th, 2007 10:30 pm On Her Majesty's Theatre Service (TUESDAY)|
Up at the crack (bluergh!) slightly dazed as I make my journey by coach and train to my College, odd how you find so many ignorant stupid people in a place of learning, but alas, that must be the reason they are there!
Sort of vaguely paid attention to the others powerpoint presentations as I caught up with work that had to be done, my open nature regarding the nature of my sexuality more fluid than it has ever been in an mainstream educational environ, no fear, no sickness, no shamefullness, just queer and eccentric (pah!) just a tiny niggle with Jude the Obscure, but I think he made a reference to the fact that being Nigerian or of Nigerian descent he therefore has the right to be a homophobe....or so is my understanding of the matter.
Study skills dull, locked out of my ucas, got a load of books out of the library on Dadaism and got Jarman's The Tempest and Beckett's Waiting For Godot on VHS to keep me entertained. Carried the books under my arm like some American Teen, or studious brat, take your pick.
Popped in Mumsies but she was out, so watched HIGNFY on the teleport, was excited that Will Self was on the panel, seemed a little lifeless to me, perhaps the edit, must have a word with him about that on the 13th. Although when I meet him I don't want a repeat of that time I asked Germaine Greer a question on Front Row, where she just looked at me dumb-founded, and Mark Lawson had to stick up for me, well re-iterate what I was trying to say.
I returned home to kit myself out in my waistcoat, cravat, velvet jacket, cane, hat etc. and hick my heels to The Haymarket, twiddled my cane when I was on the train, thinking "they're all revelling in my beauty" (ha!)
Met Cherbie outside Her Majesty's, she'd dressed up beautifully in the satin gloves, silky dress with red floral design that matched the carpet, she linked my arm and we went up to the bar where four glasses of wine cost £28 pounds....and me without any income whatsoever....shhhh!
Made another of my social faux pas that haunted me during the evening by calling C (herbie was Edwards psydonym for my friend, not mine I think I shall let it go) "Mother" or referring to her as my Mother, I thought it was either cute in an Alan Bennetty type way, cozy, or at least John Cleese standard Cynicism, either way it was fond jesting, and not creepy and offensive as C took it, I apologized unreservedly and mentally bashed myself for it, but the damage has been done I think, I atoned but she keeps referring to it and using it as a get out of jail free card to mock me, a nasty blemish on a burgeoning friendship. How awful.
But as we watched through our binoculars from the balcony, the megamusical melodramatic traffic of the stage my mind slipped off in very dark, panic attack-filled icy waters, perhaps it was lack of meds and two glasses of rose on an empty stomach, but that staring into the void or the pit of despair that makes sickness, sadness and death course through my vains, the fear, the fear, the emptying of my soul....blah, blah, blah you get the idea, but as they sang Masquerade I was battling sickly my inner turmoil.
I was contemplating the meaningless of all existence, the fear of death and the impossibilty of life as I was trying to find a pair of socks to wear this morning, but quite harmlessly, a moments thought and then engulfed my snug, warm and lovely trivial day-to-day things, but in that theatre utter misery, lonileness and disgust at the self burned inside me. Not a good review for Andrew Lloyd-webber really?
Felt a little restored once it was over and I was standing in the lobby, my apologies sort of going down well. "I think of you as an equal" she said which made my heart sing, oh to be grown-up, oh to be taken seriously, then she said I was more intelligent which was a bit too far, but I held onto the first sentiment and snuggled my face into it as one would some gorgeous metaphorical security blanket. E was in trash-palace with some friends from york, so I took C along there, felt much more comfortable for a bit, talking harmlessly about....well what one talks harmlessly about, then they were doing silly ribbing, mocking me in a rather diluted way, I mean very low-grade piss-taking, that I thought I could now deal with, I mean Edward still thinks I did porn and relishes in telling people, perhaps because of his own insecurity that he fancies me in a purely lustful way, I know, but yet he cannot have me, I don't know, I thought me and him had got beyond taking the piss out of each other, but alas no, he is still rather lovely and charming and all the rest of it, just wish we could say other things than falsities about our own stereotypical behaivour...I was very vulnerable and they didn't know let's leave it at that, but "you can dish it out, but can't take it" C mantra, BUT AH, my dear girl, my motives were purely honourable and misunterstood, social ineptness coupled with mad confidence and exhibitionism, m'dear, but yes, I havn't done any porn...yet...but don't tell Edward he laughs laughing at me for the fact that he knows this sordid truth, ha!
I went a bit quiet and morose, too much alcohol perhaps?
Slow journey back.
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|Dec. 5th, 2007 10:09 pm Whoring myself to the multi-conglomerate (reprise) for £50 (Monday)|
Catching the train back from Birmingham to London around 1ish, reading "To the lighthouse" some of the way, looking out of the window occasionally seeing the green expanse flit past. Was missing my boyfriend already :(
Wandered round Oxford street, going in the wrong direction trying to find 124 Wigmore street, asking strangers for directions, I take a peverse sort of enjoyment in talking to complete strangers, go figure. Anyway, found the bastard place with time to spare, and recognized a girl, that student nurse from last week. "Ah, funnyman" she cooed as she saw me, her voice was husky and she had bags of shopping. We went inside, signed our names and waited in the "respondent cafe". She kept asking questions in the tone that she knew I was gay, for instance when I said "is soandso coming" she immediately retorted with mild smirk "oh, do you fancy him?" or when I mention a male name "is that your boyfriend?" or when I sit down and wince from my trapped nerve "oh, too much bum-sex?" well the last one is not true for two obvious reasons, but the point remains. I take an instant dislike to this blonde little pig because she put-down where I lived, just for me asking her where she lived "cheam" and I say "oh, that's a nice area".
POLLARDS HILL: A LITTLE LESSON
Pollards Hill is a residential district crossing the border of the south London boroughs of Merton and Croydon between Mitcham and Norbury. It is the name of a council ward in Merton. The district is bisected by the Merton/Croydon boundary along Recreation Way. With no road connections between the Merton and Croydon portions of the district, they retain very different characteristics.
To the west (in Merton), at the foot of the hill, is the Pollard's Hill estate stretching to Mitcham Common. A section of the estate was put under the authority of MOAT housing association in 1998, which has since rebuilt four blocks of flats dating from the mid-20th century.
To the east (in Croydon), covering the sides of the hill are larger houses, stretching towards central Norbury. The roads are lined with pollarded lime trees.
Covering the crown of the hill is Pollards Hill Park, an open area of 7.75 acres (3.14 hectares), managed by Croydon Council.
The nearest train stations are Norbury railway station and Streatham Common railway station. Buses advertising 'Pollards Hill' (and road signs to Pollards Hill) take you to the western, Merton, district. The buses that serve the area are routes 60, 152 and 255.
Pollards Hill on the Merton side also contains a wide range of community facilities including a library, community centre, youth centre and a neighbourhood police station, the first in Merton. In September 2006 the Harris Academy opened in place of the Tamworth Manor High School, the academy is on the Merton side but right on the boundary of the Croydon.
In recent years the area has seen a growing Ghanaian community on the Merton side, the ethnic population of both parts has grown with a large Asian community on the Croydon side. Currently the ethnic population of Pollards Hill is over 40%.
The area is represented at Westminister by Siobhain McDonagh on the Merton side and Malcolm Wicks on the Croydon side, both are Labour Party. Both sides of Pollards Hill also elected Labour Party councillors at the last Council elections in May 2006.
Then a guy that I recognized working in the recruitment office that I used to work for, (where I got the gig for the two whorings, and many before) texan drawl, bad shoes but perfectly charming otherwise, we exchanged in kind about the dislike of the stupid, fat, condescending, bitchy twont, his box and my ex(boss), although the student nurse cow chimed in "well she's a strong, powerful businesswoman" which is obviously a reasonable defense for the boss to be a complete egotistical, selfish and thoroughly rude shag-sack and treat her employees like barkers-eggs!
The actual market-research thing was about mobile-phones, I saw myself from a distance in the two-way mirror thinking I looked half-decent, (something later disproved in the bathroom, with a much close mirror and brighter light!) I kept looking at the clock and then at the sandwiches laid out, something the nurse-pig made me self-consious about taking one as she remarked that I stuffed my face with them last time.
£50 pounds in my pocket to tick a few boxes and nod occasionally for two hours, hmmmm. So cheap, Simon!
Then onto Clapham Junction to see The Divine Madame and we took supper at a usual haunt, The Fish In The Tie, which is a gorgeous little establishment just down the side-road from the station, £7 for a slap-up three course meal and mildly sexy waiter(s) I couldn't recommend it enough, well I could, but yes, do go!
I think I hall omit our conversation as I got a little slap on the wrists for divulging her sordid love affair with a dutchman on this online community "disapointed" she was, so I shall endevour to keep mum about all her cock-sucking exploits....Oh, whoops!
Then home, to pass out on my coloured bedspread. Well same old bedspread.
NOTE TO SELF: Need to get some cool new sheets, ones of my own choosing!!!!
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|Nov. 30th, 2007 02:00 pm Therapy, Touching-up, Thomas Hardy and Trainspotting (THURSDAY)|
Think 11pm at the latest is my beddy-byes, coz I got up bright and early to rush off for my The-rape-me, at the Spring-Chickens, hadn't been for something like 5 weeks, but, I didn't know about three weeks it wasn't on because....I dunno Flav got her scarf caught in a mangle....interesting session, actually everyone engaged on the lovely little topic of "Incest Dreams".
Then off to College, where I did no editing of the 20-shots I had done, just sat about the French-Guy bought me coffee and gave me a ciggie, saw the little stalker-ginger, who fancies anything in trousers....'xcept me of course....not that I want him to....but still!!! Lana, gave me a rather lovely massage on a table in one of the film editing suites, whilst people watched on, Coleen, saying "ooh, look at his little bum" and saying how lovely my arse is....shucks ;)
During our two hour break me, The French-guy (Yanik) and Elise went to pizza hut with a little diversion in Primark to get a shirt for WAD, hmmmmmmm.....of course, Natalie, Coleen and Najaad, all met us in the hut, and we scurried off to the park nearby to smoke a spliff, I had none of course....well one puff and a slug of the cheap wine...to be sociable, obviously.
I got locked out of my ucas for typing in the wrong password more than five times, thats got to be finished by next friday!!!!! Eeeek! Well watched a Francis Bacon documentary on youtube for my research project instead.
To Wimbledbum for my book-group, didn't actually read any Hardy, but I printed a few poems off with great names like REVULSION and UNKNOWING to look like I had, and well, with my faux intelligence I can bluff through anything. The understanding was that because the group was getting so big, it would divide into two groups Me and Laura running the more out-spoken free flowing one, and Bridget running the nice cozy one....well that didn't happen as the manager had decreed otherwise although she'd said so last time.
I read Revulsion:
Then I left the group early to galavant off to Leicester Sq, (with a quick lovely chat with my beautiful boyfriend on the way) to queue up for a free screening of Trainspotting at the P.C.C. with Cherbie, and her frend IwantCandi who had a danny dyer-esque boyf with her with a northern accent....fit as fuck, and his stoner friend. We got the "love seats" at the back, but there were twonts behind us shouting "oi oi" all the way through and other twatty hooliganisms, Danny and Iwantcandy were canoodling, Ewan McCregor as a heroin addict is apperently sexy to some which makes me feel inadiquate, so felt a little deflated on the train home, but when I got in scoffed some noodles and popped off to bed with L.B.C.
Although me and my boyfriend say "I love you" to each other all the time, I can't recall myself saying that I was "in love with him" so I said it to him on the phone before I went to bed and felt all nice relieved, glowing inside. :D
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|Nov. 30th, 2007 12:34 am Whoring myself to the multi-conglomerate for £30 (WEDNESDAY)|
Sat in a room with a load of "students", one a lispy Special Constable, and a dishy (I won't look) black eyed boy, as rambled on obnoxious, obvious drivel to the scottish woman who was doing a marketing plan for Doritos.
Little exclusive here for you guys, that Doritos are launching this "Make your own advert. Win 20k"
scam idea, it's going to be launched in March 2008, so start making your adverts now to be in with a chance, and you could end up with your crap being shown on television. I bet that woman was "well vexed" at my contribution. Oh well.
Then popped over to mumsies for pizza and to watch Girl, Interupted, another Treacle film on my list, bit naughty, forgot that I promised to watch it with her :( My bad.
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|Nov. 27th, 2007 11:25 pm (TUESDAY) Playing Scrabble with strangers in the Royal Festival Hall|
Blimey, up since 6am, and the first thing I did, before the crack ;) was finish my little letter to the only u.s prisoner who replied from the half dozen I sent to incarcerated bi/gay guys across the pond, trying to cast myself as a modern day Lord Longford, except from the hair, the religion, the visiting, I keep my prisoners at an arms length, an arm that stretches the length of the atlantic oceon, like Mr Tickle in a way. The guy that replied is called Scott, he's in for life, for murder, I havn't asked the whys and wherefores yet, we've been chatting about royalty, athiesm and the like all rather harmless...although when I told Treacle about the idea, she seemed horrified? Maybe it is a fucked up thing to do? Mind you I have also signed up for Amnesty International...so. that she wrote just before drowning herself in the river by her home. I could see the tears welling up in Lukey's and Natalie's eyes. Oh it makes you proud.
Caught the bus to the train, and saw Li'l O' Josephine, a girl from the old NRG days, little tiny red-head thing that attends the brits-school, she shoo-ed her brother Haydon (had a very rainbowwy hat on) out of the front seats so we could sit and talk together, she was going on about her driving lessons, £20 quid an hour, and she had four hours a week!!!!!! I've got a provisional do-dah, seems a bit steep, I'll have to look into it in the new year, but as Mumsie, the nihilistic voice of reason, "you could never afford the upkeep of a car!" just watch me, you beeaautch!
A tootle on the train with some breakfast subway, grey meat in a bun smothered in mustard....sounds like a description of an ex really ;) got into College the same time as Angie, my Multi-media teacher, talk with her as she gets her banana and yoghurt, and we climb the stairs to M211, the big room full of macs.
Today was presentation day, and I had to stand up in front of the class and talk my fellow pupils through the powerpoint slides. My presentation was about literary dead lesbian Virginia Woolf, the title sub-heading "life, works and suicide", charming. I rambled through each slide, but everyone thought that I knew what I was talking about, I mean I have a little understanding of her, but I really was just blathering, although I did manage to reduce afew class-mates to the verge of tears when I read out her
The Tutorial/study skills stuff in the afternoon was easily do-able elsewhere, but I stayed and chatted with Manal, Luke and Rosho, about sex mostly, while I doodled lots, Manal giving me ideas "I would like you to draw a.... pinapple/egg/barbed wire mesh fences with bodies hanging off it/a coffin with scratch marks on the lid" etc. etc. I am going to photocopy this big A3 page covered in doodles lots of times....it's my own home-made wrapping paper....another feeble attempt to be creative, no doubt!
Had to pop into Wimblebum afterwards to see about my halted benefit "oh, well the special decision maker has been notified about reinstating your benefit, that was on 21st but we'll have to wait a couple more days till we know" they said that last week! grrrr, I've been in and out of that Job Centre since the 6th ringing, ringing, ringing and ringing. I feel like ringing their fucking beaurocratic throats until they couldn't so much a hoarsely whisper "can I have your national insurance number" ever again!!!!
Not that I am bitter in any way ;)
Oh, little errands in woolworths and the post-office, quickly popped round Mumsies but nobody in, had a glass of milk (fascinating stuff all this, I assure you) and went on my merry way. No post, which is always a disapointment!
Oh, gosh and golly, there was a bit of an incident on the bus going back to mine, two little boys, what they must of been about 9-10 years at the very oldest, could easily of been 7 or 8, were taunting an even smaller boy in the bus, telling him to "get off the fucking bus" so they could beat him, I had my music on, but they were right next to me, the boy on the seat behind be, I didn't take on, until this tiny little blonde boi, I mean tiny, just erupted in anger "FUCKING FUCK OFF, IF YOU WANNA FUCKING HIT ME, JUST FUCKING HIT ME, YOU FUCKING FUCKERS!!!!" just a stream of it, as he kicked and punched at these two boys, who then just laughed at him, and ashamedly other adults and kid s on the bus did too, others just looked on aghast, I stared out of the window, pained but helpless, the boys kept taunting him, laughing at his outburst until the boy was riled up again, this time the bus stopped and the driver came to seperate them, telling them not to behave this way and he didn't care what was going on, just to quieten down, the driver hadn't even got back to his seat before the two boys were shouting at the other again, so the driver chucked the two boys off, the driver asked how the little boy was feeling, to which he replied "bad" the driver just raised his eyebrows and went to drive the bus on. All the rest of the way I could hear the boy behind me, whimpering and sniffing and I just felt so uncomfortable. The driver had another, kinder word with the boy when the bus terminated, and some lovely middle-aged woman was walking with him and talking as they walked off down the road.
I went into my housing office, to find out how the rent was being paid, none had gone in yet!!! nearly a month behind, they were about to send me a possession notice!!! Paid two weeks up front, and going to go down to the council tomorrow to sort it, so they pay the housing straight to them without having to go through me.
Got in my flat, musty smell, ugh! I think it's musty, must get a plug-in glade, put the bins out etc. etc. Had some microwavable salmon crumble with steamed veg...then it was time to pop out to the royal festival hall.
Must admit a tad nervous, not terribly, and once I'd found all these kindly peeps at the tables, we settled down and engaged in harmless banter and played a couple of games, I came last in the first round with a measly 113 points, to the winners 300 something, and I got 156 the second go, when I was bunched with the remedials, I tied with Michelle and the sweet jumpered Theresa, a primary school teacher won and was really happy, "oh such a pleasent way to spend the evening" I declared, was so easy and calm and normal. Although caught a glimpse of my bad posture in those big mirrory things by waterloo station, must sort that out. But yes enjoyable evening, shouldn't keep looking at my watch, don't do that next time!!!! Much better than getting pissed up in a dank gay-sea monkey frottage club!!!!!!!
And so to bed....Leave a comment
|Nov. 25th, 2007 09:39 pm "Weekenders on our own"|
This weekend was spent visiting my darling Treacle and spending time indoor with my most beautiful boyfriend. If you would like to read the following drivel:
Current Location: The flatletLeave a comment
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Current Music: ITV1 @ 10:45pm
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