There is only one thing I hate more than men; Love. I use a lot of four-letter words in my everyday vocabulary but this one, on the rare occassion that I use it, rolls off my tongue with much difficulty and is full of bitterness. Love is crap.
I never believed in love at first sight, even when I wasn't a cynical 22 year old with a terrible track record of relationships. I find it completely illogical that anyone can see someone across a crowded room and instantly fall in love, thinking "I'm going to marry them." You can't. How can you love someone you don't know? It is built up over a long period of time and is based on what you have in common, if you find each other attractive, whether or not you can look past their bad habits and still want to be with them. It doesn't happen instantaneously, it's logically impossible.
I read people's stories about their "fairytale romances" and how they were swept off their feet, are desperately in love after only a few days together. Utter bullshit. Relationships take work. The real name for a fairytale romance is "the honeymoon period." When you meet someone new, they're exciting because you know nothing about them and it's all lovey-dovey mushy stuff, the generic "you hang up" " no, you hang up" phone scenarios, walks along the beach, romantic picnics. I suppose it varies with everyone. Your honeymood period could last a few weeks, others a few months. I would define a fairytale romance as finding your prince charming out of nowhere and living happily ever after. Apart from in Disney movies, this never happens.
When I read these romance stories, I wish I could scream at the person "Look, love. It's all a load of bollocks. You can't fall in love with someone after a week. You don't even know them. They could be a serial killer for all you know. How can you say that this will be the person you're going to marry. Get a grip!" But of course, I don't. I would see it as a fair warning but they would probably just see it as me raining on their parade.
So you may ask where I get off telling people this love nonsense is well... nonsense. Personal experience, my friends. I fell in love with someone I thought was my "one" when I was 17. We had a great time together, everything was lovely, romantic and all that. I genuinely believed he was for me. I even moved in with him into our own place and I had a baby with him. Then he abused me, lied to me, cheated on me and eventually left me. I don't believe I did anything to deserve it other than try and fight to keep together what I had wished for. Ever since, I have had whirlwind romances, everytime I kid myself into thinking this one will be different from the last. I dated an old friend who couldn't stop himself from flirting with other girls. I dated an insanely dull guy, mainly based on his looks, who suddenly dropped me with no warning and I later found out he had had another girlfriend all along. I dated a guy who turned out to be a crazy person when I realised things weren't working out between us and tried to finish things, he threatened to throw himself off a bridge. So, as you can see, love does not fit into my grand plan very well.
Everyone always says to me "You feel like that now, but when you find the right person you'll feel differently." To those people, I say "Hell to the no." I used to go through life hating being single. I hated everything about it. Being lonely, having nobody who could call round or take me out when I felt rubbish. Now I couldn't be happier to be single. I genuinely DO NOT want a man. Ever. Times three.
So, just to re-capp; Love at first sight equals a load of crap; Fairytale romances equals total rubbish. Love equals more effort than it's worth. I may be bitter and cynical, but I don't need a man and I'm happier for it. The thing is we can hope life works that way, that there are lovely, loyal men all around us who will grab us when we most need to be caught, but it doesn't. They may be there to begin with but months, years down the line, they will just end up letting you down. The more we wish, the more we delude ourselves and the worse we feel when things don't go right.
Thursday 25 August 2011
Wednesday 17 August 2011
Long time, no speak...
Hello all! Well, it's been quite a while since I graced this blog with my presence isn't it? Where to begin...
Well I have been deathly ill for a while. Ok, slight over exaggeration but it definitely felt like I was. I went to the doctor about my shoulder which has been agony for weeks. She told me I probably have a frozen shoulder. Fantastic. I'd been feeling sick for a week but I didn't mention it to her anyway. So the next day I went to Gay Pride in Liverpool with two of my friends. I have never seen so many transvestites in my life. Especially ones that have better legs than me. That night was when I thought I might be dying and I ended up laid in bed for the next couple of days until I managed to haul my ass out of it to get myself to the doctor. Again. I went out in my total scruffs, no make up, jogging bottoms tucked into Uggs. Not very sexy to say the least. I was seen by a new doctor. Dr Sillitoe (I did laugh) who was fairly young. I had to sit down and tell this young, new doctor about my bodily functions whilst looking like I'd crawled out from under a rock. He gave me some pills and I went back home to bed since I had to get up at stupid o clock to go and have my bloods taken the next day. I went in the next morning and the woman looked like she should be working in a tattoo parlour, not a doctors. She said to me "I'll go and find a smaller needle" which made me feel a little better. I'm fine with needles, not so much with blood though. But alas, she came back and told me she couldn't find one and so she'd have to use the big needle. Sob. It was fine though and I soldiered on.
On Wednesday, I went to Belfast to see some family. I had to get up at 4am which did not please me as I am NOT a morning person at the best of times, especially not when feeling like death. The plane journey was short but bumpy, like riding a bucking bronco because it was one of those propellor planes and there was cloud after cloud after cloud. We were staying in a nice apartment right in the middle of the city and we did a few things, shopping, museum wandering etc. The first day I got an ominous voicemail from the doctors asking me to call them urgently. Thankfully I am fairly cool-headed and didn't panic (joke, I was panicking like a panicky thing on panic pills) but he just wanted to tell me I need to go and get my blood done again and that I had, and I quote, a "deranged liver function." Anyway, I started feeling a little better as the days went on and I actually started eating again which I thought I would never do. Last night we went out for my dad's birthday to a nice Italian restaurant and then went back to the apartment to have a nose at the concert that was going on across the road. None other than 30 Seconds to Mars and my future husband Jared Leto. That was our last night and we flew home today. No clouds so it was fairly nice. Stepped off the plane and it was actually warm. Belfast isn't exactly reknowned for its hot weather so it was nice to be back in sunny England.
On a sadder note, our cat Peppy died today. My grandma was keeping an eye on her while we were away and she called while we were still in Belfast to say Peppy wasn't well and by the time we had got back home, she called to say she had died. It was then that I really realised that I have a strange way of dealing with death. My sisters were in tears, so was my mum who didn't even like the cat. I had her growing up, she was 16 and we had her from a little kitten, when she was a little grey furball. I did feel a bit sad when I heard she had died, poor thing. But I didn't cry. I was surprised she lasted as long as she did. She was deaf, blind in one eye, not to mention ancient. And she died curled up on my grandad's knee rather than being put down by some strange vet. Feels a bit weird that I won't see her parading around my mum's house anymore but I suppose when it's our time, it's our time. So RIP Peppy. Hope you enjoy playing with the other crazy kitties up in kittycat heaven.
Anyway, I'm now back in my own house and my own bed now. I have so much tidying up to do. I was far too ill to tidy up the place before I went away and a week later I've come back to a pigsty. But of course, I will put it off again until tomorrow. I'm looking forward to getting back into my story again too. Had a writing itch all week.
I shall say ta-ta for now though.
Night :)
Well I have been deathly ill for a while. Ok, slight over exaggeration but it definitely felt like I was. I went to the doctor about my shoulder which has been agony for weeks. She told me I probably have a frozen shoulder. Fantastic. I'd been feeling sick for a week but I didn't mention it to her anyway. So the next day I went to Gay Pride in Liverpool with two of my friends. I have never seen so many transvestites in my life. Especially ones that have better legs than me. That night was when I thought I might be dying and I ended up laid in bed for the next couple of days until I managed to haul my ass out of it to get myself to the doctor. Again. I went out in my total scruffs, no make up, jogging bottoms tucked into Uggs. Not very sexy to say the least. I was seen by a new doctor. Dr Sillitoe (I did laugh) who was fairly young. I had to sit down and tell this young, new doctor about my bodily functions whilst looking like I'd crawled out from under a rock. He gave me some pills and I went back home to bed since I had to get up at stupid o clock to go and have my bloods taken the next day. I went in the next morning and the woman looked like she should be working in a tattoo parlour, not a doctors. She said to me "I'll go and find a smaller needle" which made me feel a little better. I'm fine with needles, not so much with blood though. But alas, she came back and told me she couldn't find one and so she'd have to use the big needle. Sob. It was fine though and I soldiered on.
On Wednesday, I went to Belfast to see some family. I had to get up at 4am which did not please me as I am NOT a morning person at the best of times, especially not when feeling like death. The plane journey was short but bumpy, like riding a bucking bronco because it was one of those propellor planes and there was cloud after cloud after cloud. We were staying in a nice apartment right in the middle of the city and we did a few things, shopping, museum wandering etc. The first day I got an ominous voicemail from the doctors asking me to call them urgently. Thankfully I am fairly cool-headed and didn't panic (joke, I was panicking like a panicky thing on panic pills) but he just wanted to tell me I need to go and get my blood done again and that I had, and I quote, a "deranged liver function." Anyway, I started feeling a little better as the days went on and I actually started eating again which I thought I would never do. Last night we went out for my dad's birthday to a nice Italian restaurant and then went back to the apartment to have a nose at the concert that was going on across the road. None other than 30 Seconds to Mars and my future husband Jared Leto. That was our last night and we flew home today. No clouds so it was fairly nice. Stepped off the plane and it was actually warm. Belfast isn't exactly reknowned for its hot weather so it was nice to be back in sunny England.
On a sadder note, our cat Peppy died today. My grandma was keeping an eye on her while we were away and she called while we were still in Belfast to say Peppy wasn't well and by the time we had got back home, she called to say she had died. It was then that I really realised that I have a strange way of dealing with death. My sisters were in tears, so was my mum who didn't even like the cat. I had her growing up, she was 16 and we had her from a little kitten, when she was a little grey furball. I did feel a bit sad when I heard she had died, poor thing. But I didn't cry. I was surprised she lasted as long as she did. She was deaf, blind in one eye, not to mention ancient. And she died curled up on my grandad's knee rather than being put down by some strange vet. Feels a bit weird that I won't see her parading around my mum's house anymore but I suppose when it's our time, it's our time. So RIP Peppy. Hope you enjoy playing with the other crazy kitties up in kittycat heaven.
Anyway, I'm now back in my own house and my own bed now. I have so much tidying up to do. I was far too ill to tidy up the place before I went away and a week later I've come back to a pigsty. But of course, I will put it off again until tomorrow. I'm looking forward to getting back into my story again too. Had a writing itch all week.
I shall say ta-ta for now though.
Night :)
Tuesday 2 August 2011
Monday 1 August 2011
And then my mother poisoned me...
Not written on here in a few days. Apologies! I've been super busy working on a website to promote my writing. Which is actually going terribly.
I had been thinking about doing one for a while so on Friday I thought I'd just go for it. I paid for a domain and web host. And that was where I had no idea what I was doing. Someone suggested I find a web design site online so I did and I sat up until 3am doing it, getting it perfect. Then on Sunday, it occured to me that I couldn't actually use it, as it was published with another website. I wasn't impressed to say the least but I carried on. I had absolutely no clue what I was doing so a couple of people helped me out and it looked like I was finally getting somewhere, only I couldn't find a decent website template that made the site look awesome. So I gave in and started doing some housework.
I got a call off my dad asking did I want to go over for dinner and seeing as I had eaten nothing all day and had nothing in I did go over. My mum had made pasta with chicken and bacon and it was nice, up until I thought I had eaten a bit of raw chicken. I have major chicken paranoia, I usually always check inside every piece before I eat it incase it has the slightest tinge of pink. But as I was so hungry, I didn't bother to check. And to my own peril. Not 5 minutes after finishing it, I felt so sick, I actually had to run back to my house. All night then, I felt off so I ended up going to bed at 9. I can't help but wonder if I had picked up the wrong meal and the raw chicken was actually meant for my sister who was driving my mum up the wall.
Anyway, I feel a little better today, although it is August 1st and instead of blaring sunshine, it is grey and raining. So I got up fairly early and decided to have another go at this website. Which has resulted in me completely blocking myself out of my control panel so I can't access anything at all. Fantastic. I really cannot be trusted with these things. I have the technical capacity of a dead squirrel.
Infact, I should probably get off here now, before I do something wrong and my page just vanishes. I'll put up the link to my website on here. If it ever gets finished and I don't throw my laptop at the wall beforehand.
x
I had been thinking about doing one for a while so on Friday I thought I'd just go for it. I paid for a domain and web host. And that was where I had no idea what I was doing. Someone suggested I find a web design site online so I did and I sat up until 3am doing it, getting it perfect. Then on Sunday, it occured to me that I couldn't actually use it, as it was published with another website. I wasn't impressed to say the least but I carried on. I had absolutely no clue what I was doing so a couple of people helped me out and it looked like I was finally getting somewhere, only I couldn't find a decent website template that made the site look awesome. So I gave in and started doing some housework.
I got a call off my dad asking did I want to go over for dinner and seeing as I had eaten nothing all day and had nothing in I did go over. My mum had made pasta with chicken and bacon and it was nice, up until I thought I had eaten a bit of raw chicken. I have major chicken paranoia, I usually always check inside every piece before I eat it incase it has the slightest tinge of pink. But as I was so hungry, I didn't bother to check. And to my own peril. Not 5 minutes after finishing it, I felt so sick, I actually had to run back to my house. All night then, I felt off so I ended up going to bed at 9. I can't help but wonder if I had picked up the wrong meal and the raw chicken was actually meant for my sister who was driving my mum up the wall.
Anyway, I feel a little better today, although it is August 1st and instead of blaring sunshine, it is grey and raining. So I got up fairly early and decided to have another go at this website. Which has resulted in me completely blocking myself out of my control panel so I can't access anything at all. Fantastic. I really cannot be trusted with these things. I have the technical capacity of a dead squirrel.
Infact, I should probably get off here now, before I do something wrong and my page just vanishes. I'll put up the link to my website on here. If it ever gets finished and I don't throw my laptop at the wall beforehand.
x
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
