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Okay. We're going to try this again. This time I'm saving all my entries to a disk because all of November's are stuck on my computer. My computer committed suicide and will require a new motherboard. Can't sort that out until I finish moving. In other words, sometime next week. Gah. Boxes and more boxes surround me, and why in the hell do I have so much junk? Why do I keep all these things? What meaning do they have? And why can't I remember it? Thank god for laptops. This damn thing is a godsend and I love it.
It’s getting colder now. The leaves that were ankle deep and fire coloured on the pavement on my walk to college last week are now a dangerously slick brown muck and I’m developing ‘winter neck’ – where I get a crick in my neck from keeping it scrunched up into the hood of my jacket as I try and stop the wind getting past my scarves. It’s the time of the year where I should be hibernating, all warm and cosy in my bed. I should drop college and become a cat. Anyone else willing to join me? Brr. Freezing cold.
Tomorrow is the last day I’ll spend in this house. On Wednesday, I’ll have moved into the new one and then the great box unpacking can start. Oh how I look forward to that. I’m already wondering what I’ll loose this time. Sod’s law states that you will loose something important in the move, last time it was my contact lenses cleaner and a bottle of developing fluid. Speaking of Photography. I really need to start doing my latest college assignment – Portraits. Who in the hell do I know that has a small child? I’m a small child free zone!
Tonight is the last night in my house. Boxes of junk that have travelled with me from South Africa to Ireland and then on to England surround me. Hell, they’ll probably follow me to New Zealand in about 6 or 7 years. See, that’s my aim. Finish college, Finish University and then go to New Zealand. I have 6 years left in the UK and man; I cannot wait to leave. This country is so damn homophobic and I resent being typecast due to my sexuality plus, the rain and horrible weather is making my S.A.D worse. Ah, Sunshine. Bliss.
First night in the new house. My room is a pigsty and it’s not even a pigsty of my own making – no carefully arranged filing system that I’ve developed over two years of living in one house. Horror! It’s quite cold; I need to figure out how to work the heating because otherwise, I shall turn into a human Popsicle – a perfect example of 21st century punkgothgeek frozen to her laptop. I need to sort out the phone, I’m going insane without ‘net access. No email and no surfing make Meghan go something, something. Oooh, my anime’s on this computer.
The stress levels in this house are at an all time high as various members of my family freak out. My dad over the lack of shelves, my mom over the amount of boxes and me over the fact that I have to get rid of far too many of my books for my liking, due to lack of space to put them anywhere! Hell. If I can reach my bed tonight, it’ll be a miracle! Last time I saw it, it was under several boxes. The same goes for my two-seater couch, not that I’d fit on that either.
Working Friday nights is worse than working Saturdays. Sodding radio station and it’s continuous reminders that it’s Friday night and thus the start of the weekend for most lucky people. Those of us who have to work in pubs are not lucky people and we don’t need the reminders. So yeah. Worked last night which meant running from college to the train station, running home, stuffing a microwave meal down my gob and then heading into work for three hours of washing other people’s plates. Argh! I crawled home and cleared a space on my bed before dying. Ow. Feet.
Whee! Steam cleaner! I spent most of today cleaning the old house with the steam cleaner so that it can be shown off to buyers. The people who own it have decided to sell it so show house time. Fun. I think not. My main server went down yesterday, it’s down for the foreseeable future so I’m off to buy some paid hosting for one of my domains and just set the other one up to forward to a certain page explaining what’s happened. I need my email back! No doubt everything is bouncing at this moment in time. Bah.
Oh the thrill of working Sunday nights when you finish at eight thirty and can’t actually leave till nine. We had coffee and then added canned cream because we’re rebels, yeah! The floor got mopped at least twice and we even considered raiding the dessert fridge but then realised that we had drained the dishwasher and cleaned the sink already. We even resorted listening to the dodgy dance station on the radio and dancing around the kitchen with the mops but even that didn’t make the time go faster. Finally we snuck out at about five to nine. Yay us.
There is nothing worse than trekking the three miles to college from the train station on a Monday morning in the rain. sigh. Today was not a good day – for one the sodding server at college started eating my IT work, I have to hand the damn stuff in January and the technician keeps saying I should make backups. I would if I could even save the stuff in the first place you asshole. It’s exactly 9 days to go till my 18th, I plan to get legally rat-arsed drunk for the first time in two years. Should be fun.
It’s day two of the ‘fucking college network is an arse’ saga and it’s still eating my work. I swear I’m gonna haul my laptop into college and do my work on there – my teachers be dammed. I’m under some serious stress right now – 3 units to hand in for Jan and one of them involves writing an application that calculates speed in Excel. Shoot me, just shoot me now. I’ve had it up *here* with shitty macros and Excel’s ridiculous excuse for validation. And hidden sheets that keep reappearing. I think my blood pressure is rapidly reaching boiling point.
I hate taking self-portraits. I’m not fond of pictures of myself especially pictures that other people have taken. It’s one of the reasons why I’m a photographer – I’m behind the camera and not in front of it. So right now I have a roll of 36 shots of me. Rapture. I have to develop them tomorrow and choose the best ones to go in my portrait project. The side of this project that I’m looking forward to is taking my own model shots. I have a theme of mouths because they’re how we communicate to each other. See me bullshit.
It’s exactly a week to my 18th. I can almost feel the hangover. Or in theory because I don’t get hangovers, two years of drinking has taught me this. I figure it’s because I stick to vodka and vodka based drinks and they’re pretty pure, no crap in them like larger and beer both of which I can not drink without wanting to be very ill. I’m gonna be pretty stiff afterwards though. A night in the moshpit at Room is very good at reminding me about muscles I forgot I had and the bruises are quite good as well.
It’s that time of the year when the couples start going even more goo-goo over each other. I can’t move in college without running into another couple trying to suck the life out of each other. Bah humbug I say, Bah humbug. I’m sure that if I was in a couple I’d be doing the same thing but I’m not so it’s kind of annoying. I dislike being single. I’m a very touchy person – I need hugs and cuddles etc on a regular basis but there’s a distinct lack of cute punkgothgeeks around college. Once again with the bah humbug.
Shock! I can see the carpet in my room and my couch. This scares me somewhat. All I have left to do now is finish sorting though my book boxes and choosing the ones I want to keep, the rest will be then stored elsewhere because I sure as hell don’t have the space. The couch is however getting covered in cat fur as I type. One of my two cats has discovered that I have a couch and has now gone to sleep on it. He appears to be catching mice in his dreams. God, how I love cats.
Yet another fabulously fun night at work. Oh how I wish. Several million Christmas bookings and the usual drunken idiots. Spent most of my time counting the minutes till we could flee and go home. Arrived home to a fabulous early Birthday present – a lovely, naughty Mikhael/Tybalt picture drawn for me by the wonderful Sandra from Boy Meets Boy. Tomorrow is my old School’s Christmas party, to which I have been invited. Should be good, I haven’t seen most of them in two years and they all gave me so much shit for being a punkgoth. Now they’re all wannabes.
Ow. Moshpit related injures starting to make themselves known. Hellish bus trip to Room and back, full of idiotic drunken louts and bloody football chants. The moshpit was ace, just the right amount of decent old metal/punk/ska and not so much of the sodding cardboard, trendy nu-metal. Finished off my illegal-drinking career as well. Goodbye misspent youth! Wednesday will be the start of my legal drinking career, somehow it’s not going to be as fun. Seemed to have strained a muscle in my leg during one of my more manic ‘pit dances. Ankle brace and Deep Heat, where are you?
Pain. Oh god. Work up this morning wanting to know if anyone had caught the number of the donkey cart that ran me over. Had exactly an hour to get to college and just ended up skipping photography because once I sat down, I wasn’t getting back up again. Hangovers and computer s are not a good mixture but I’ve had a year of practise in regards to going out, moshing, drinking and then going to college at some ungodly hour of the morning. The first years aren’t so lucky. Poor sods, they looked like something the cat dragged in.
A is back from Uni. This is going to be interesting. The first thing he said to me was ‘I’m dealing now, so if you want anything, just call.” I just nodded because I’m generally drug free, the occasional joint is pretty much my dealings with illegal substances. It was good to see him; still looks completely fuckable – all long hair and elfin features. That’s why it’s going to be interesting. I crush on him, badly and I’m pretty sure there is something from him as well. The only problem is his ex-girlfriend who’s also a good friend of mine.
Spent today doing x-mas shopping and came home with a new coat, a very small fibre optic tree, some lights and various presents. Had fun yesterday, friends, Chinese and drinks followed by dancing and current crushes. Sigh. I still don’t know exactly what’s happening with A and me. I’ve got to ring him soon and we’ll most probably meet up and get stoned while watching The Young Ones, which is what we normally do. It’s been awhile since he split up with C and they’re still not on speaking terms so if something does happen, it’s gonna be painful. Gah.
Bad things always come in threes. Number one was opening the fridge, 5 minutes before leaving for work and having a large carton of yoghurt splattered down my jeans. Then when I shut the garage door, all the rain water that had collected on it went down my sleeve and when I finally make it to work, I discover that I’m not working tonight and they’ve put me down for Christmas Eve. I can’t work Christmas Eve; I’m working Christmas day and Boxing Day so I could have Christmas Eve and New Years off. Double pay is a reason too.
It’s snowing! The whole backyard was covered in snow when I woke up this morning. My neighbourhood looks like a sodding Hallmark card, all snow and pine trees and kids chucking snowballs around. The cats are in shock, sitting on my windowsill and staring out at this strange new world. I bet they’re dying to get their furry little feet out there to investigate. Alas, we have no cat flap yet so we can’t let them out, unless someone stays by the kitchen door and it’s too cold to do that so they’re stuck inside until the door is fixed.
I’m stuffed. Not another mouthful of Christmas Dinner can pass my lips. We’ve just had one big meal, so that my cousins could share the festivities with us before they go back down to London for Christmas day itself. I have to go to work in roughly ten minutes. Oh rapture, I just know I’m going to fall ass over tip on the icy path on the way to work tonight and deal with either the landlord’s wife or Martin the fuck-wit. He really is such an arsehole and he’s going to get fired soon because he doesn’t work. Yay.
All day I’ve had Blink182’s Happy Holiday, you Bastard running though my head. I feel that this is appropriate because I only have two presents wrapped. Argh! I need to go find the sticky tape and the scissors so I can wrap the rest. Organised? Who me? They’re showing A Nightmare before Christmas at 1:15 tonight. Or rather tomorrow and I’m going to stay up and watch it even though I have to go to work later that day at some disgusting hour to wash other people’s plates. I can hardly wait. It’s traditional – I watch that film ever year.
Merry Christmas Everyone! Hope you had a fabulous day and if you ate out, you left the lovely waitresses a nice tip because you were full of Christmas cheer. You did, didn’t you? Because if we didn’t get many – 13 quid and we had over 50 bookings! – so it would be nice to think that somewhere out there people still had the decencies to leave a tip for the people who’ve hauled their hangover arses into work to be all cheerful so you can bloody well eat out, instead of making it yourself. Six fucking hours of other people’s plates.
Sweet baby Jesus. The only thing that got me though today’s 6 hour shift of hell at work was the thought of the wage slip I’ll be collecting next Friday with it’s beautiful over 100 pounds total. I am never. NEVER. Working Christmas & Boxing Day ever again. I didn’t think I was ever going to see the outside of the sodding kitchen ever again, what with all the bookings and dishes and pots and pans and Martin the fuck-wit Chief who amusingly got put on prep work – i.e. Veggies etc which is lowly kitchen slave work. Ow. My back.
The year is almost finished. Ye gods, it’s gone so fast and so many things have changed. I’m already thinking of my New Years Resolutions – which I don’t normally do because I can never be arsed to keep them, but this year I’m going to make them easier for me, more realistic and all that. My aunt and cousin are coming up for New Years so I’ll be at home, I was thinking about going to Spiders’ party and rocking in the new year but we’ll have to see how it goes. I haven’t been out to Spiders in ages.
Only three more days to go on the December 100 words and I’m getting to the point where I can write and write and then stop either on 100 words or just before without using the word count function. Occasionally I go over 100 words and a sentence or two requires a bit of editing. I’m working on my original writing site and I think these will be included. I’m actually looking forward to next months. I’m going to take part in this for as long as possible because it’s very structured. I find myself writing more and setting goals.
The family have arrived. Cue much catching up and talking about life in South Africa as kids. My cousin Robyn is only two years younger than me and we spent a lot of time together as kids so we have a lot of memories and it’s amusing – everyone is slipping back into half English and half Afrikaans so the sentences are all jumbled. It’s surprising how much of it I remember – but I suppose when you learn it from nursery school it sticks around. Pity my French hasn’t done the same or the Zulu, they would be helpful to know.
Excuse me, I feel the need to cackle like a mad thing. I pissed Martin the fuck-wit off so bad tonight. He chucked bits of carrot at me at work and I hit him with the mop (you know – I seem to do that often, got fired from the army base for smacking a squaddie across the head with one.) and chased him outside and locked the door. We’re now on a truce. Matt spent most of this fight laughing his ass off, Sunday nights are slow so anything that provides amusement is milked over and over until it dies.
Well, lookie here. It’s the last day of 2001, so News years resolutions because writing them down means I remember them. Number 1 is to write something everyday, minimum of 100 words, even if it’s just a paragraph on my epic fic. Number 2 is to get fit and stop eating so much sodding junk! Number 3 is save money – I will prove to the bank that I can handle a Switch card because my Solo is pissing me the hell off. Number 4 – tell the people I care about that I do care – even if I don’t seem to.
The Tip Jar