Monday, 4 July 2011

so that's that then

and I don't even feel rubbish.
B the harpy sent Drummer boy a text 'from me' (and to several others) saying: I love wine and I love you. He replied with a rather precise message about us being just friends and he hoped that he didn't spoil my evening. He also said that I was drunk (and therefore would forgive the message? hmmm, p'raps) I replied explaining that B had stolen my phone and sent the message to several people (one of whom, S the mini G, responded by saying that she loved me too. Not fucking hard is it?) and, alas, he was one of them and that one should never tell people one had unlimited texts and I wouldn't mind but she was only drinking Pepsi. He replied that he felt like a fool (well, you said it) and that coke is better than pepsi. I agree with that opinion. He then sent a text saying that no one in there (sic) right mind would love him (erm, issues anyone?) 'good night x'
Shove your 'x'
I replied with a final text: No one in their right mind would prefer Pepsi. Good night x


So, that is that then.
I still like him, anyway... you can't help how you feel, can you? Just coz he wants a hamster and I am a dog... meh

Monday, 27 June 2011

Sunday Sunday, so good to me

So on Wednesday a friend of ours who is in a different band to DB's asked if I was going to their gig this Sunday (yesterday). I said 'I can't, sorry! It's Old H's 30th... please forgive me!!'. DB heard this and sadly said 'Oh! You're not coming? Bring your friend' I said 'she has a kid!!' He said 'Bring the kid!! Come!' So...
Sunday I met uni' R, told him my plans (not going to the gig) and he said 'you'll go...' anyway, HOT day and I am melting already, need to meet S and get to Old H's house. Am late, am sweaty am tired and am HOT! Got on th train, met S, my Dad drove us and we had a lovely time. This was the first time S had met OH and as they are like family there it was ermmm interesting and very fun. As part of a deal with S I texted DB asking how the gig was. He said 'they're on at 10. Come here now' after a second of debate we were off (with my birthday friend's permission, I am not a cow-bag) sweating and melting on 2 tubes trying to get to the gig (North London to East. It's awkward I tell you). I get to the venue, sweat running off my face, nonchalantly order a drink for S and me and scan the crowd...
He came over said 'hi, we're over there. Come on.'
S whispered 'oh he likes you' 'what!? Why say that? He barely said "hi"' I whispered back. 'Body language'
So, the gig finishes we chat a little we stand outside we get the bus to his area, which is very near S's area and merely a bus-ride away for me (convenient, hey?).
And S and I hung out with him at his flat til 2 so we are firmly friends and progression is being made. It is allll good and I am happy with the situation as it stands.
Also, S ended the night by saying to my brother and me (he picked me up, he's a good brother. Sometimes :) )'There's chemistry, it is good!'

I was going to end this post with a miserable sidebar about text messages and lack of smileys or 'Xs' and a note on shitty friends but, you know what? Let's leave this positive.
Peace.

Friday, 24 June 2011

I love the trees and the sky and me

And I have been doing Wii Fit Plus ALL WEEK. I still cannot sleep very well but I am alright thanks. B the harpy tells me I look glowing. I said it's because I love the trees and the sky and myself and I have beautiful, lovely friends, which on the whole I do.
Anyways... B is a harpy because she has been hassling me re the drummer boy. We all went to the gig on Wednesday and it was all very good and that. And our friend did an awesome cover version of London Calling and I love The Clash so that's good. Innit?
So, DB and I spent a lot of time talking and chatting and hanging out and drinking and having fun. B the harpy said she thought it obvious that he liked me but I think that if I believe that wholeheartedly then it is merely wishful thinking. As I have stated previously to anyone that'll listen (and those that won't) I have no doubt that he likes me (what's not to like?) but only as a friend.
I am OK with that. By the way.
It was B and "Kenny's" 4 year anniversary yesterday and she coerced me to text DB and invite him down... so I did and it was all good, we had ("Kenny" said) 'textual relations' and his advice was 'keep it up, he's a canny lad' and there is no doubt that we're great pals.

Other news: I am stuck on Zelda: The Ocarina of Time, my degree results were supposed to be ready today but they aren't, and I have a sore back. Too much Wii Fit?

Sunday, 19 June 2011

INSOMNIAAAARRGHH!!!

I have not slept for over 40 hours and I am knackered but I cannot sleep. I might die.
WHY can't I sleep?

Friday, 17 June 2011

Update

So, as previously mentioned, I have acquired DB's number. I sent him a message after 2 days of hassle (mostly from one of my married friends. B. who has text me almost non-stop, and another married friend. H. Marrieds, eh?). And he replied and he said he was going to a gig of our mutual friend (this was the spurious reason I gave for texting him) and he ended with 'see you there, I hope'. And you know what? That's OK. I haven't over-analysed the shit out of it. It is what it is, I will see him on Wednesday and until then I shan't obsess. Promise.

Wednesday, 15 June 2011

Oh and also

The drunker certain people get the more aggressive their actions and thoughts. I am a happy drunk so I find this hard to deal with. (on a by the by, I drank last night but not too much, although I mixed it was all OK and I think I am being rather sensible if a little inebriated. Go me)I do not think all men are pricks, dicks, cunts or other derogatory word for genitalia. I do not think that I am destined to be alone. I do not think that age is an issue, even if my 'friend' wanted me to (for her. DB is only 4 years older than I am, this is not about me. FOR ONCE!!). I do not agree with 98.7% of the things that come out of her mouth. I agree to disagree, I sure wish she would do the same.
People, eh!?

so...

I got Drummer-boy's phone number (via the, I think, stalkerish means of asking a mutual friend for it) but I don't really know what to do with this information...
I mean, really, why do I need/want it? To what end? I know, I know, to text/call him same as I would anyone were I to have their phone number but I can't help feeling that (I have literally run out of things to say... ) what? What? Feeling that he may misconstrue my intentions? Or worse, actually construe my intentions? and so the heckity what?
WHAT IS THE WORST THAT COULD HAPPEN??


Indeed.

Saturday, 11 June 2011

I think it is really sad...

that it has taken me so long to realise that good friends exist and I feel lucky to have met some. Finally. All good things and all that though, and as usual I have played the long game. All this delayed gratification (though) makes the goodness that much better. Or something. Innit?
Also, I am able to zip up my army jacket (finally!!) and although it is a proper squeeze still it shows that all of this 'watching what I eat' stuff is paying off. GOOD.
And, I have proven my love and enthusiasm for 'Nineteen Eighty-Four' so much so that my adviser commented on it (an I got a decent grade, yo)... I love it so much it that it annoyed me that in her comments her referring to it as 1984 bugged the snot outta me. Orwell insisted on the words, thus so do I. He'd be turning in his grave, he would. Bloody academics.

Finally, due to me finishing reading the self-help book I have stopped mooning over Drummer-boy. Yes, I still like him (I can't turn that off, like some sorta tap) but I have become unobsessed. I just like him. This is after I signed into a different Facebook account to see whether he had blocked me even though, rationally, I knew that he didn't. BUT... Where are you drummer-boy? Where ARE you? Curiouser and curiouser... My mate (also in drummer-boy's band) is playing a solo set next week... maybe DB will be there, for moral support, like? Or maybe he's dead? Or moved? Or married? or WHAT? Where ARE YOU?
Fuck!

Thursday, 9 June 2011

I guess I am no longer a student...

... for now. But I am still really rather immature.
I was thinking the other day about drummer-boy (well, when ain't I?) and I think that some of the problem is that I really just don't know how to 'play the game'. I mean, when A says X B is supposed to say Z... I don't know what the heck any of it means. So when A says X I say some bullshit like 'did you know that pink is traditionally a boys colour?' or 'oh may I use your toilet?'. When someone asks 'would you like a coffee?' I hear 'would you like a coffee?' and reply 'yes please. Milk 2 sugars. Thanks' when what I should be saying is 'hmmm hell yeah I wanna "coffee" baby' or something. I don't know. I am approaching this from a 12 year old's perspective. Oh whatever.
I am reading this self-help book that a friend lent me... I'm not really into pop. psych. self-help stuff, but he talks a lot about a dog is just a dog and they accept you for who you are and you accept them for who they are. I like that. I do accept and love my dogs. And, totally, if someone doesn't like you for being you, so what? That's OK. That isn't rejection or a reflection on you it's just a thing. I don't like chillies, there's no offence meant to chillies they just aren't for me. That's OK. I can live in the world and so can chillies. So if drummer boy (or anyone) doesn't like me that's OK. It's not a reflection on me not being good enough, I just ain't what that particular person wants. And that is OK.

OK is fine by me.

Friday, 3 June 2011

too old to get too drunk

I don't know why I don't or can't just learn my lesson... What is wrong with me? I cannot go out and imbibe copious amounts of alcohol when I haven't eaten anything all day (even if I have, too). Now I have no idea how I got home, a graze on my hand and knee and bruises... maybe I got Rohypnol'd. Maybe I should just grow the fuck up.

Thursday, 26 May 2011

It's Overrrrr

So, I am a graduand. That is: someone who is in the process of graduating. Meh...
So, he replied. And? And nothing. He was away and now that he is back I have received no further communication from him except that his sister 'friend requested' me on Facebook. So, does this mean something? Maybe, what the hell do I know? Indeed.
I have decided to write stuff in the vain hope that this summer will not lead to a nervous breakdown by boredom. I have booked my graduation tickets and paid (£55!!!!) for them and an alumni card. I also bought a GameBoy game today. So that's something to do for a bit. SIGH!

Wednesday, 18 May 2011

So maybe I was a little premature stresshead cowbag

He replied.
Now to over analyse the shit out of the message. I am such a lame brain prick.
On a different note. Today is the day I print the dissertation. I attempted to find the Copy Shop but failed. Geez, can I do ANYTHING right? Am awaiting my fellow printee but am procrastinating from life now. I have little else to do so am procrastinating from living... ish.

and am vaguely on Operation:Acquisition... we'll see eh?

Probably

Tuesday, 17 May 2011

Messages and Freedom

So i have finished my dissertation and merely need to print it off. With this completion in mind I have decided to turn my attentions to the acquisition of drummer-boy so I sent him a message clearly and plainly asking him if he would care to meet for a drink. This was on the advice of my blunt Italian friend who said 'he kept looking for you and it is obvious he likes you' and she is mean and blunt and to-the-point so I thought: ok. So I sent him a message.







No reply.

Sunday, 8 May 2011

and there I was thinking I was losing weight...

alas, I look HORRID still, although from some angles I looked at least like a human being. So that's good. I have also been having a nervous breakdown but that is mainly down to my dissertation.... sigh.

Wednesday, 4 May 2011

Hey! Look, an image!!




This is not my image... however, it makes me feel better knowing that I probably won't become a serial killer. Back to the dissertation

Friday, 22 April 2011

One Last Push and then the dreaded dissertation

So, I have 1112 words left to write of my final essay of my degree and then it's dissertation til mid May. The sun is shining, it's Good Friday, and might well be a good Friday too, and I am sitting at a desk staring at a computer screen hoping beyond hope that I will think of 1,000 more words to say about Paul Auster's New York Trilogy.
At 3:30 I am meeting a friend for coffee, then I am going to a gig in which drummer-boy will be playing the drums (obviously) and then ALCOHOL. This essay WILL BE DONE. That is all.

Friday, 15 April 2011

Only 13,000 words left!

So enough nonsense, time to crash back to reality. My brain is not killing me any more and I have done my final (70%) Reading Childhood essay. It's OK, I am happy with it and it is printed. All that is left now is my final (also 70%) essay for my New York Century module. That aint gonna be easy, let me tell you! Then dissertation... but I will think about that later. It's all too much to think of at once. One thing at a time. One thing at a time. On a different note I am able to put on the smaller jeans that last month wouldn't get past my thighs. My hunger is clearly worth it! Booyah... I wonder how much more I need to lose in order to get the 'normal' graduation gown? Where is that damned tape measure?

Tuesday, 12 April 2011

Insomniargh

I cannot sleep. I have just got up from a very unrestful night and I am knackered. I have too many things whirling around my head, my stupid stupid head. I have a stabbing pain in my left temple that has been there for two days. I have a rash on both of my arms that I googled and one of the results was AIDS. The stabbing pain came up with a brain tumour. I have a mole on my arm that is raised. I swear it wasn't before. Skin cancer? I have this stupid essay to finish, another stupid essay to start and then the dissertation. I feel like a zombie. As much as I like zombies, I do not want to actually be one. No. I am looking my age, older in fact. I keep thinking about drummer-boy and I sure as heck bet he ain't thinking about me. Fool. I am going to school now.

Saturday, 9 April 2011

I feel like: you're one to talk

I realise and appreciate that my friends are ultimately only looking out for my best interests but I really don't think that many of them are well-equipped to be doling out advice. When in the same room as the guy that I like, a friend turned to me and said 'you could do better'. That may well be her opinion but a few things: 1, I haven't, have I? 2, I like him, I think he is "better" 3, It is not YOUR taste that matters here and 4, I don't care what people do for a living. I care about who they are. As people. Does he have a heart? Does he make me smile? Laugh? I don't care that we can't talk about Dickens and Dostoyevsky. I can't talk about those things with 90% of my friends, but I like 'em anyway. I am not a booksmart, geek-head that can only talk to other booksmart, geek-heads. I am a billion other things, as is everyone. I appreciate that my friend is concerned that I only like drummer-boy because apparently (although not apparent to me) it is obvious he likes me. I certainly don't think that he dislikes me... My friends wondered why I wasn't talking to drummer-boy last night. I feel like I couldn't 'duck them out' for the sake of a chat with drummer-boy (or indeed any boy). So, you know what I am going to do? Let me tell you. Let me try this one thing before I send teen-y messages on Facebook and gush about 'how great you guys played on Friday', coz I might throw up... I am going to go to the next gig early, and alone. That way SOMEONE will have to talk to me and we can see if it is him. And if it is him then I think that might be the best thing, hey? Well it'll be something. And in the meantime? I still got 15,000 words of essays and dissertation to write. I AM BUSY!!!

Tuesday, 5 April 2011

When I was a child...

I used to think that I would have to go to the hairdressers everyday, when I was an adult, because I couldn't brush my hair. I thought that I would own a pair of dungarees for each day of the week. I thought that I would live in a beautiful flat and not need to tidy up when my mum came round, but would leave a pile of magazines spread out and I would neaten them up when she came in and I would apologise for the 'mess'. I thought that I would have a boyfriend who was 4 years older than me and had neat black hair and would like to listen to every brilliant thing I had to say (I was a wanker then, too). And although NONE, I mean absolutely ZERO of these things is true now or has happened, I am still very happy (despite my almost constant moaning) with where I am now and what I am doing and if all else fails I can always remember that I still say pretty brilliant things. Now to find the bloke who'll listen to those brilliant things... hmm...