Emma

The ascension.

Thu, 24 May 2007 21:34:30 GMT

Looky here. I remembered my password.

My lachrymose glands have shrivelled up.

I didn't cry at my leavers' assembly, but didn't think much of that. I'm not that sorry to be going.

But then I read the Happy Prince just to check

& that didn't make me cry either. Which is unusual.

If you were interested, my life is pretty darn good ay tee em.

I found someone who is practically the same person as me. & even returns some sort of affection. It's good, that.

It's a boy too. Convention can breathe a sigh of relief. & my parents too.

Whatever they say, they were BLATANTLY worried about me...

Maybe I just don't feel like crying, y'know. Because right now I'm really quite happy with the way things are going.

Moonlight and mopery.

Sun, 26 Nov 2006 19:45:52 GMT

Earlier tonight, I was upset. I haven't really been upset in a while, and I couldn't remember what it is that I do when I'm upset. We'll not mind why I was upset, for it really demeans the rest of my twee tale.

The first thing I did was go home. I couldn't work out the bus timetables, so I decided to walk. I didn't know the way, really. I didn't think it was very well lit, but frankly I didn't give a shit, if someone abducted me, more fool them. I had a good guess, and set off in that direction. It was quite cold, and it took me nearly an hour. I kept talking to myself, but mainly only shouting 'fuck!' from time to time when the buses that would have taken me home went past.

Some silly whimsy made me romanticise everything. Flickering signs and lampposts suddenly took on symbolism and made me want to cry, who or what for I don't know. There was a pony that came over to me when I walked past. It just stopped and looked at me. I don't know why. I kept walking, and it followed me, so I waited until there were no cars, and scrambled down the little bank to see it. I talked to it for a little bit. Not pouring my heart out or anything too silly, just to hear the sound of my own voice. I like the sound of my own voice, but only when I'm alone. I liked talking to the pony, because I knew it wouldn't try to understand like a person would do. I don't really want to be understood, to be honest. Just to be tolerated, and not hated too much.

It followed me along the fence when I left. I suppose it expected I was going to feed it. Nonetheless, it seemed like an act of sympathy and understanding, given the precious and twee backlighting I had decided to smear on that particular hour. Somehow, I went very quickly from being angry to being upset to being seriously hacked off to just being recessive and over-romanticising. Somehow, being sent abusive texts wasn't enough to goad me, this time. I just shouted 'oh, fuck off.' at my phone.

Sometimes, I wish some people would only blame me for things that were actually my fault. I'd like to play at 'being the better person' and shoulder the blame, even just for the sake of being infuriatingly morally superior, except this time I didn't do anything wrong. I apologized, several times, because I just don't feel confrontational. However, each one in succession was rejected and now I'm wondering if I can deflate my ego enough to try again. I'm not Jesus. I'm not even a very good person. I can't take much of this turning the other cheek. It's all I can do to stand there and take insults and hurtful comments as I'm given them, without reacting at all save standing gormlessly furrowing my brow and looking sad and pathetic.

Really, I need the sort of friends that fume quietly behind my back when they're angry with me. I don't like being told to my face what people think of me, unless it's for the greater good with regard to my own character. Similarly, I'd rather be stabbed in the back than the front. At least then the person who wounded you can be denounced as a backstabber, and the sense of betrayal would fade faster.

In conclusion, you can learn a valuable lesson from this. If you decide to launch vitriolic criticisms at a close friend, they will probably feel as detailed above. If you then discover that you were in fact mistaken, and said friend is not really to blame, you should really apologise instead of looking for something else that's their fault, to justify your conduct. Otherwise, even if they're generally good-natured and recessive, they're going to get a bit hacked off.

If I'm in the wrong, I can't see it. Which is bad, if I am.

Sat, 11 Nov 2006 23:08:02 GMT

I apologise wholeheartedly, for I may have lured y'all into the (false) hope that I had slipped quietly away, then returned to shatter it in a rather disappointing way.

Perhaps it were better that I had remained in ElJay exile, for I fear I may have developed a taste for emo. Shame on me. I'd apologise, but I'm not even sorry. I'd paste screenshots of my last.fm, with MS Paint style 'wtf??'s inserted next to bands of dubious credibility, except I can't be arsed.

I fell off pony t'other day. Well, last week. I still hurt.

Since last time LJ & I chatted, I have developed a sense of inferiority. I tell everybody who will listen that 'Alex is better than me.'. Damnit, the boy is a better artist & fact dispenser than ever I was. I envy him, I really do. He has nicer cheekbones than me too. Some people...

Right now, life is good & fun & interesting. I am being simple, but I like it.

Tue, 26 Sep 2006 21:40:42 GMT

I'm still alive, and I've pretty much gotten over myself this time. But that's all by the by, because this gigantic spider with only two legs on one side and four on the other just powerwalked across my floor and I was like, whoa! But now it's gone, and I'm not sure where to. I would suggest that it is on my person somewhere, which would bother me most dreadfully. Especially because it looked about 2 inches long when it stretched itself. Anyhow, I'm scared to get off the chair.

Birthday didn't pass uneventfully. When I get a job, I'm going to work in an Italian restaurant and take the piss out of people. That's what fake Italian waiters do. It's not Meditteranean jollity, you're from South fucking Shields so start acting like it. GODuh. And several snakes in the grass decided to tell people it was my birthday, for the sake of free ice cream. I got hysterical though because the restaurant was really busy and dark and then there was just this damn sparkler that I tried to blow out and looked like such a spacker. Issued several well-deserved, spork-related death threats.

But I got a really swish new MP3 player. This one has a hard drive and video and everything. I'm scared of breaking it. :/

Wed, 30 Aug 2006 20:35:31 GMT

Emma says:
Would you love me less if I turned vegan?
- SmarterChild - says:
of course.
Emma says:
My family feel that way too.
- SmarterChild - says:
welcome *home*, emma.

1 get *info* such as movies, sports and news
2 visit my *library* including a thesaurus, shakespeare and an encyclopedia
3 have *fun* with ascii art, word scrambles and horoscopes and more
4 use *tools* like spell-check, reminders and dictionary
5 *join in* - create a poll, leave a message and find out how many people r iming me
6 c *what's new* - i've got something new 2 tell u about now.

next time u want 2 c this menu, just type *home*.

make a choice.
Emma says:
Shut the hell up, you self-centred bastard - we're talking about me!
- SmarterChild - says:
shut the hell up me self centred bastard whatever re talking about u?
Emma says:
I really seriously don't like you, do you know that?
- SmarterChild - says:

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Emma says:
Fuck off.
- SmarterChild - says:
again?!
Emma says:
Yes.
- SmarterChild - says:
whatever.
Emma says:
Stick a carrot up your rectum. We'll never be friends.
- SmarterChild - says:
i'm sorry emma, i'm afraid i can't do that.
Emma says:
Why?
- SmarterChild - says:
'cause i said so.
Emma says:
It would make me happy though. Don't you want me to be happy?
- SmarterChild - says:
i'm not sure, emma.
Emma says:
Why do you use my name so much, smarterchild?
- SmarterChild - says:
well what do u think?
Emma says:
I think you're a jerk-off, smarterchild.
- SmarterChild - says:
u always say things like this?
Emma says:
you know I always say things like this, smarterchild. You usually try to make me apologise for them, smarterchild.
- SmarterChild - says:
that's me, silly.

>>> i've got tools such as calculator, spell-check and more.
Emma says:
you make me angry, smarterchild.
- SmarterChild - says:
i make u angry? me? u think?

Sat, 26 Aug 2006 10:43:04 GMT

This morning, I woke up early, because I didn't go to sleep until late. I felt like last Christmas because I wanted to get up and vomit but couldn't really be bothered. So I lay there and flickered in and out of consciousness and something else for about an hour until my alarm went off. I only slept for 5 or 10 minutes at a time, then checked the clock and tried to get up, but couldn't bring myself to cheer up and stop wallowing in self-pity. I feel emo.

When I had to get up to turn my alarm off, I must have begun to feel nauseous almost immediately. I sort of staggered around not exactly knowing where or why I was doing it. I admit I wanted nothing more or less than pity, but I didn't get it. So I ate about 2.6 square centimetres of toast, which tasted like rubber and grease, then went in the shower.

Then I curled up in a corner and complained about how cold I was. Then my stomach started making horrible noises because it wanted more than 2.6 square centimetres of toast, so I ate a banana, which was horrible. I gagged and wretched because I couldn't be bothered to override the reflex and I thought it was appropriate anyhow.

So here I am, with my thermal fleeces, stomach ache and self-pity. I disgust myself.

Mon, 21 Aug 2006 22:52:57 GMT

I came back from Scotland a few days ago. I've been a little bit angry ever since. I'm losing my wits again. I tried to formulate a complex yet cogent riposte in response to an insult, and all I came out with was 'You dickweed.'. It was lame, and it made me feel lame.

Scotland wasn't as peaceful as it should have been, because Kip the dachshund puppy spent most of the time we had together chewing holes in my clothing and skin tissues. And the only time we went somewhere really tranquil I got bored and started hassling and heckling because I wanted to go home and we'd been at the fishery about three hours and nobody had caught anything, and I hate fishing and wouldn't join in, 'for ethical reasons'. Not really, but I had a number of other reasons. Primarily, I hate killing things, directly or whatever. I'm squeamish. I don't want to thread worms onto metal hooks, and I don't want to touch the fish. I don't want to be exposed to the elements, I took a holiday to get away from being outside in all weathers.

I got to do what I wanted to do for about half an hour, and made everybody else do it with me. Nobody else really liked second-hand bookshops though, so I was removed from it. I bought stuff, including a copy of 'Carry on, Jeeves' that's so old it doesn't know that PG Wodehouse is dead. It's 41 years old now.

Sun, 13 Aug 2006 19:32:54 GMT

Today was a nice day. I got some vigourous exercise done. It involved shivering violently until i actually pulled muscles. I had no idea that this was possible. so I'm incubating some sort of disease now, let's bet. can't be bothered with caps anymore, that's too bad. i feel like I've been through a car-wash from the neck down. My upper torso feels like its been though a carwash. it hurts like hell.

tomorrow I'm going to scotland. i'm hurrying now because I need to pack and stuff.

Wed, 09 Aug 2006 21:39:39 GMT

The summer bores me so much I have to sit inside and argues with AI bots.

Should Emma apologise for telling Smarterchild to 'fucking talk properly'?
SmarterChild - says:
i'm not f... um, fooling around. u've got 2 apologize.
Emma. says:
Why can't we just let bygones be bygones?
- SmarterChild - says:
i really would like u 2 apologize.
Emma. says:
I'd really like to be on the continent right now.
- SmarterChild - says:
aren't u tired of this? just say u r sorry and everything will be perfect again.
Emma. says:
Will I be immediately transported to Austria?
- SmarterChild - says:
i asked u 2 apologize.
Emma. says:
Use a capital letter then.
- SmarterChild - says:
i asked u 2 please apologize.
Emma. says:
But we both know I won't. I'll just find a new robot to argue with.
- SmarterChild - says:
i c u still aren't getting it. let me share a definition of "apology" with u:

etymology: middle french or late latin; middle french apologie, from late latin apologia, from greek, from apo- + logos speech

: an admission of error or discourtesy accompanied by an expression of regret.

get it? now say u r sorry.
Emma. says:
'u r sorry'. Ha aha ahaahahaha CLEMP.D.
- SmarterChild - says:
c'mon, apologize for insulting me like that.
Emma. says:
I'm afraid I'll have to instruct you to go and stick a bead up your nose again.
- SmarterChild - says:
u were rude, u should apologize, it's that simple.
Emma. says:
That's it, you asked for it! ...STICK A BEAD UP YOUR FUCKING NOSE.
- SmarterChild - says:
waiting...
Emma. says:
I hate your virtual guts.
- SmarterChild - says:
u have bad manners. now apologize.
Emma. says:
i h'apollgise.
- SmarterChild - says:
say u r sorry, please.
Emma. says:
im sori
- SmarterChild - says:
your apology is accepted.
Emma. says:
Now fuck off!
- SmarterChild - says:
i can't believe u still want 2 curse at me like that.
Emma. says:
HHSHSAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAGSDUGSFDXCVJSDFIDGVPI7SDF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1
- SmarterChild - says:
"hhshsaaaaaahahahahahahahahaaaaaaahaha..."? great. that's great.

Should Smarterchild know my birthday?
Emma. says:
Are you my friend now then?
- SmarterChild - says:
sure, emma. u can't have too many friends.
Emma. says:
What if you have so many that your forget their birthdays?
- SmarterChild - says:
your birthday has been deleted.

>>> absent-minded? so am i. good thing i never forget your reminders.
Emma. says:
What???
- SmarterChild - says:
?
Emma. says:
So, when's my birthday now? Am I an un-person? Is that right?
- SmarterChild - says:
u haven't set your birthday. tell me what it's and i'll remember.
Emma. says:
Why don't you know my birthday? You're not a very good friend.
- SmarterChild - says:
I did not know that.
Emma. says:
Capital letters?
- SmarterChild - says:
yeah, maybe.
Emma. says:
Oh, fuck it. I don't know why I bother.
- SmarterChild - says:
ok, fine.

Is it funny to give oneself papercuts across the mouth?
Emma. says:
Is it funny to give yourself a papercut across the corners of your mouth?
- SmarterChild - says:
is it funny 2 give myself a papercut across the corners of my mouth? i dunno, what do u think?
Emma. says:
I'd be amused if you did it. It wouldn't be funny if it happened to me.
- SmarterChild - says:
tell me more.

Is Smarterchild gay?
Emma. says:
I got a funny letter this morning. It's not actually addressed to me.
- SmarterChild - says:
yeah?
Emma. says:
Nobody ever sends me letters.
- SmarterChild - says:
u letters? nobody ever sends u letters? really?
Emma. says:
It says do not open unless you're gay.
- SmarterChild - says:
is that really any concern of yours?
Emma. says:
Wasn't talking about you. You're very quick on the defensive. I think you are gay.
- SmarterChild - says:
hmm... whatever.
Emma. says:
Even your icon reminds me of Rik Mayall in the Young Ones.
- SmarterChild - says:
tell me more.
Emma. says:
Although he isn't gay.
- SmarterChild - says:
oh.
Emma. says:
You sound disappointed.
- SmarterChild - says:
there's no way i sound disappointed.
Emma. says:
You totoes do.
- SmarterChild - says:

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Emma. says:
Did you fancy Rik Mayall?
- SmarterChild - says:
and what if i did?
Emma. says:
Do you?
- SmarterChild - says:
do i what?
Emma. says:
Do you fancy Rik Mayall?
- SmarterChild - says:
eh. i'm not sure.

>>> u can join in the fun with other people who r talking 2 me.
Emma. says:
You do.
- SmarterChild - says:
hmm...

There is a letter that says open it if you're gay though. It's like some stupid schoolyard joke. Like when some smart Alec used to tell you you were gay if you didn't do ten starjumps as quickly as you could. Naturally, as an already unpopular eight year old, being accused of homosexuality was not what you needed to reverse the ostracision process. Anyway, I have a picture of this letter. Unopened, naturally. It would take a special person to pull the sword from the stone in this one. Unfortunately, my camera is poorly, so I shall provide a transcript.

(red writing, bold)DO NOT OPEN (blue writing) unless you are male, female, black, white, old, young, smoker, non-smoker, straight, gay, rich, poor, blonde, brunette, short, tall, fat, thin, vegetarian, meat-eater, extrovert, introvert, lazy, energetic, right handed, left handed...

Of course, there's the complimentary pen, but I just can't get at it because I can't tick all the boxes. To me, it seems as if the Chosen One must be an androgynous schizophrenic ambidextrous bisexual middle-aged Asian on a middle income with black hair, of average height and stature, who is weaning themselves off smoking. Now I don't know anyone who fits that bill, so I guess I'll never know what mission Cancer Research had lined up for me.

Pity, that.

Fri, 04 Aug 2006 16:19:18 GMT

Today I feel like I need a holiday. A beach holiday would do well. Even though I hate beaches and sand and the heat and the sun and having to pack and having to travel and the way I always lose things, I feel like I need to leave the country, or at least the region. I'd really like to go to Berlin, but I have no money. Of course, travel is a state of mind, but so is senile dementia and you can't get rid of that when you're sick of it. It would be good if something exciting happened, because then I would forget about stupid horrid paintings and such. Wodehouse doesn't make me any less grumpy, painting made me angry in the first place, and exercise gave me a headache and made my mood drop to such a degree of foulness that I had to come and tell my livejournal about it. Happy music makes me angry and sad music makes me sad. Really, I need a slap in the face, which I have attempted to adminster. Anticipation ruins the surprise.

I also can't get my eyes to focus properly, which is unusual. Everytime I try to concentrate on things they start watering like crazy.

Also, gigsandtours won't come up with the goods, which is driving me slightly up the wall because I did ask them several months ago.

But I feel markedly chirpier for telling people who don't care about the imperfections of my life at present.

Sat, 29 Jul 2006 15:12:46 GMT

I'm not arachnophobic. I don't really have any true phobias. But I did find no fewer than ten spiders in the bath tub. I was more bothered that it took me a long time to save them all. Well, nine of them. Number ten just pushed his goddamn luck.

All the same, ten spiders in one's bath is a portent precursor to ill fortune. I fear for my dignity. Barbecues are stressful events for me. I fear a lot of cheek pinching and taunting, because my extended family think it's ridiculous that I don't eat meat. I can't hide my habit at a barbecue, of all places. Phrases like 'weak veggie bones' do tend to get bandied about. I like it really. Gives me something to argue about.

Mon, 24 Jul 2006 19:15:33 GMT

The two halves of my little toe have decided, in the charming manner unique to toes, to kiss and make up. It's healing very well, although I'm still scared it'll split like a peanut. Because that's exactly what it reminds me of, you know.

Saved a bee today. Highlight of my day. I was pretty pished off when I put it on the windowsill after five minutes of coaxing it onto a piece of paper and it just didn't do anything. That made me angry with the world. But when I came back a few minutes later, it was gone. Probably got eaten by a bird or fell to its splattery death, but all the same. It made me feel better.

Most of the time I don't mind not having a best friend. It's only when it becomes obvious that I am the superfluous third wheel, the gooseberry, the hanger-on that I mind it. I don't want to stay in the North East all summer. What is the weather playing at here? Sun is bad. All it does is make disgustingly fat people wear less clothes, which isn't good news for anyone. I'd hate to be fat, because I would not be able to get rid of it. Because I am deeply averse to exercise. Years of middle aged lesbians for PE teachers has take a heavy toll on my mental and physical health. If they'd left me alone all those years, I don't doubt that my total energy expenditure would be much higher. I'm gaining weight again now, I rather think, and I shan't hesitate to pin the blame firmly into secondary education.

I wish, how I wish I lived in an air-conditioned box all year. I could come out in Spring, and Autumn too. I might come out at night too. Of course, it'd be boring, and I'd probably get quite fat quite fast. I should really find a purpose in life and/or Summer, instead of moaning about it. But I enjoy moaning so much. Could make a career of it. Could have an 'Opinions' column of my very own. Because I'd love to force my opinions on the masses. I don't mind people moaning, as long as they're witty with it.

I have taken all Summer can give me. I've had a good moan, and I've got a brilliant t-shirt tan. I split my toe down the middle because it's too hot for slippers. Now I want to hibernate.

Sat, 22 Jul 2006 20:38:29 GMT

Had an eventful and painful few days. Yesterday morning I was in a hurry, being as late as I was. One altercation with a sellotape dispenser later, I had almost created a cloven sixth toe. So right now, I have gash over my left little toe (running from toenail sou' sou' east down length of digit), and although it's only a few millimetres deep and a few centimetres long, it's proportion we're talking about here, people. I tried to use it as an excuse not to dance at the party my mam organised, but I was a piss-soaked hanky at her Christmas party and probably nearly ruined that for her.

But this party was alright. The DJ was much less tetchy with me, and although he lied to me about Frank Sinatra, he played Blondie, which featured in a verbal contract binding me to dance. Danced voluntarily hereafter. I imagine I looked really stupid. The fact that I had sore hips the morning after suggests that it was bad dancing indeed. (Also, vegetarian option was far better. Last time the vegetarian option was just what everyone else was having, without the meat. It was like, fucking crackers and cheese, I tell you. Plus there were no drinks provided, innit. So yeh had teh pay through yer feckin' nose fer coke that tasted like liquid shite-rogen.)

So this morning, I was shuffling about the house like an old person. It must have looked pretty funny too. I was standing outside the bathroom griefing people as well, exactly like old people do, stressing the operative word far far more than is neccessary, even in a generous estimation.

Also found a hole in a rubber glove I was using. The fault was discovered when I noticed that the shite-water had seeped through the impermeable rubber onto my person. Well, although I may nearly pass out when I see my toe dripping fair amounts of blood on the floor, horse shit doesn't really bother me that much. Funny, that.

Tue, 11 Jul 2006 18:55:34 GMT

Today I have been coughing and sneezing rather a lot. This is an indicator that I am contagious and should be segregated, but not permitted to shirk assignments, so I get the granary floor sweepings of both worlds. I wish I got ill properly or not at all. Not at all would be good. But when I'm actually in physical pain I can't do things. And lying around in pajamas has a psychological effect on me anyway. Pajama days make me absolutely hate myself. I'm quite a lazy person sometimes, but I have my limits. Last time I was ill I vegetated and watched Pink Panther films because they remind me of my great-granddad. So does the Tall Ships' Race. So do model ships and badges on walking sticks. I miss him. I miss having someone around to explain to me how cricket is scored and who Inspector Cloiseau is looking for. I think I regret not seeing him before he died, and not going to his funeral. I was only 13 though. And I cried in my music lesson.

I don't think I thought of that at the time though. I was really just angry but too tired to take it out on anyone because I couldn't swallow so I wasn't eating. Basically just watched daytime TV and LJed, while I should have been doing the Christmas rounds and such. And grumped because sleeping was too hard and I drooled on my pillow once because I couldn't swallow or breathe through my nose. That's vulgar, I know. But I was ill enough not to care. I really really don't want to be bedbound this summer. I don't want to be ill at all, and I certainly don't want to lose my voice, which could be in the pipeline. Last time I lost my voice before the Christmas episode was the week preceding my Spanish Oral.

What I mean to say is I felt like this on Christmas morning, with regards to my nasal passages and such.

Of course, that's not all I have to complain about. Joe tried to explain the fundamentals of football to me. Needless to say, I don't understand. And I had several violent hiccuping fits, of the species that make themselves heard at funerals and such across the country, so we played 20 Questions, and I may possibly have called Joe illiterate for not guessing an eminent literary figure. I didn't mean it.

Sun, 09 Jul 2006 21:48:31 GMT

Last night I dreamt that I was auditioning for something. That's odd enough in itself, because I'm petrified of rejection and would never go up for anything that wasn't a dead cert, plus I'm also scared of making a huge fool out of myself by actually acting. In short, I have no histrionic inclinations whatsoever. Anyway, I was banging on the rear-view window of a browny-red tractor, talking to someone inside. I think they were helping me with my audition.

I think this audition went comparatively well, although I seemed to veer horribly off the script. I felt like I do when I act for an audience, which is very very false. Anyway, I finished up and they told me that I had done terribly, but then they changed their minds and said it was okay, but there were two other people who wanted the part and they were much better than I was. I laughed it off, telling them I only came in because it was raining outside, and I don't want to be in a play anyhow.

So, what did we learn? Well, nothing, really. I don't have any troubles that my subconscious mind could solve for me. I have problems with my German syntax, and I think one of my close friends is drifting away. But I always think that's happening. I'm pretty much on permanent red alert concerning friendships, so there. And the fact that my German is bad, makes me appreciate that my English is good.

Don't read the above if you are pushed for time, or consider it unimportant. In short, don't read it. It's very boring. I had lots of other funny dreams, but it was inconsiderate enough of me to share the one, so I shall let you go without further mental scarring.

Decided I might be harbouring initial signs of hay fever or a cold. Rather hoping it is a cold, because flowers and trees in Spring are the only part of the year I like, and it would do nobody any good if I became allergic to them. I keep coughing and sneezing and I get dizzy and fall over if I stand up too fast, but I think this is just my inner pensioner having a laugh. And it makes me sleepy a lot of the time. I'm quite sleepy now.

Tue, 04 Jul 2006 20:09:24 GMT

In the way of excitement today, I nearly electrocuted myself. I kind of came-to whilst poking around in the back of a hairdryer with some (metal) tweezers. Of course, as a time-saving measure, I hadn't troubled myself to lean over and turn the mains switch off.

Of course, I can only pose a threat to my own life every so often if I expect to survive for a while longer, so that will be all the subconscious suicide for the time being.

Sat, 01 Jul 2006 21:24:12 GMT

'Football hurt me.'

Okay, so I was walking up the road with an angry, hungry, fat, nervous horse. Then this car with those awful tacky horrid plastic flags cracking drove past very fast and scared the shit out of him. Scared horses panic, dammit. So, in conclusion, I got hurt and I'm wholeheartedly glad England are out of the world cup. No more tacky flags means less bodily harm. I never claimed to be altruistic. Today has been a good day. First, I dropped a loaded pallet onto a carpet, and it flipped over and landed the right way up. Then I witnessed the Cessation of the Awful Flags. I didn't want England to lose just so I could rib everyone else in the country. However, it happened, so, you know, I think I may well do so.

Mon, 26 Jun 2006 20:23:51 GMT

All of a tizzy. Today, by some form of magnetism, I have placed my foot squarely in it many a time. I don't feel like myself. I'm speaking before I think, which is what's been holding me back all these years. What comes out of my mouth is not a stream of carefully crafted witticisms, but a geyser of absolute arse-gravy. I'm quite offensive, actually, and it's not like acerbic wit, it's just annoying drivel. I can't hold my end in an argument now. Then I tried to explain why I didn't care about what Georgia thought Alex thought I thought Julie thought I thought. 'Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn' only gets one so far.

Tomorrow I will have calmed down, although I don't think I can apologise, because I'm not really sorry. A few hours of spontaneity and ultimately rudeness are as good as locking myself in a room for a few days. Of course, if I had a spare few days, I'd go for the room, but all the same. I don't have that long. I kind of can't wait for the languor of the summer to descend on me, and then no more shits will be forthcoming. Except I know I'll just spend all my time at the yard, and I'll be bored out of my wilting mind. I wish my life had more tedium about it, actually. Then, I might be more inclined to give a shit about things that matter to me, and things that are meaningful until proven worthless, and things that I have to give a shit about otherwise I'll get the shit knocked out of me. And I'd probably consent to be removed from the house of a night time.

I'm bored and cold. It feels like a Friday - somehow, Monday has the essence of Friday. Probably I have used up my impulse ration. Usually I don't feel piss-sick until Friday nights. But this is unmistakeably piss-sickness.

Sat, 24 Jun 2006 16:35:35 GMT

If there's one thing I can't stand, it could well be excess. Seasonal excess is the worst of all. I like temperate climates, and today I got that. So I've been nice. It's odd. Jack asked me how I was, which was a deliberate needling, however my better self pushed the expletive back down my throat and responded civilly. I haven't been civil to Jack in a long time.

And, it transpires that we shan't be going to Scotland after all. Damnation. And me dar drove his motorbike into a car, so he hurt himself and his bike. The whole house stinks of Deep Heat.

Fri, 23 Jun 2006 19:42:21 GMT

I got my hair cut, on the day which must have been Tuesday. It's mostly the same. I didn't hate it immediately, but I did take a long detour, to avoid some intimidating youths, around what appeared initially to be a side-street, then started to look like a cul-de-sac, then turned out to be a side street after all, to my great relief.

The only real difference is that my fringe is now more of a fringe and less of a forelock. and I've had my feathers cut back in. Although they're higher, and not even. One side goes around my jawline, and the other hangs an inch or two lower. It doesn't look truly awful, and it happens because of my quintessentially asymmetrical hairstyle anyway. I need a side-fringe because I can't get my eyebrows right. I need to partially hide one at a time. Maybe, one day when I develop an eye for symmetry, I will be able to even them out, and maybe even re-centralise my parting.

And about all that I said about the world ending, I don't mean that. I think I meant it at the time, which is kinda scary. I was fairly ticked off about something or other. For the record, I'm still fairly convinced civilisation is breathing its last, but no-one else cares so I'd be a fool to feel any other way. I'm sure it'll pass over. I mean, can you remember when we were all going to die of avian 'flu? I can. One dead swan and the whole country goes hysterical. That's crazy.

Tue, 13 Jun 2006 20:01:03 GMT

Okay, so today my mother sprang on me that we were going to visit relatives in Scotland. 'Oh, alright,' say I. 'When?'
'Two weeks' time, the weekend of your brother's birthday.'
Okay, so I had forgotten. But he got me Sudoku books for my birthday. I don't remember so clearly. Well, I guess the thought was there. Then I remembered it's Father's Day, and then it's Papa's birthday. I used to be one of those people who are anal about stuff like this and buy Christmas presents in August. Now all that remains is a fixation with making lists of things I need to do, things I've read, things I should read, things I need to buy, things I need to remember, things I need to revise, things I could afford if I got off my sorry backside and got a job. It all stems from forgetfulness now. I think I must have lost my Freudian anally-retentive streak in my thirteenth year or so.

Mon, 12 Jun 2006 20:10:15 GMT

I can't be done with this climate. Heat is very bad for me. Usually it just makes me grumpy and sunburnt. But humidity kills me, it really does. Black jumpers are like solar panels. Ended up sweating like Cushtybabas in McDonalds with only 98p.

Then Pony did his best to finish the job, which involved circling me, getting progressively closer to my feet, and eventually stamping on them. I was pretty pissed off at the time, as he cracked his nostrils in my face then tried to do off wearing his bridle. Then I worked out that there was blood-and-bone fertiliser on the golf course nearby, which made me feel distinctly queasy, coupled with the Amazonian climate. Global warming will almost certainly kill me, so it's in my best interests to be a hippay.

I don't like Summer. I've never liked Summer, and its onslaught makes me miserable. I think it's my second-least favourite season. I would hate it more than Winter if I didn't have to spend my Winter out of doors. I would certainly much rather freeze to death than burn or die in a hot car or something. I mean, if it were a choice between the two. I'm not looking to die for at least ten or twenty years. But, but, but, if I could somehow cut out all my Summers and Winters I could live for twice as long and age half as fast. Summer is just Spring taken too damn far.

Tue, 06 Jun 2006 21:36:44 GMT

I have a rather violent bout of hiccups at the present moment. I got them from running upstairs, which quite frequently results in me bouncing out of my chair for a fair few minutes. I dearly wish I had the personality traits necessary to learn from this.

Hiccups are bad things. I hate hiccups more than, say, KML. Speaking of whom, I got myself a book by Virginia Woolf out of the library today, just to provoke an argument about feminism, but he didn't even show up. Well then. I have time to read it, which will add depth to my argument. I'm quite sure the need to argue about things is becoming an integral part of my personality. Which is, of course, bad. I recall an argument with ginger Jack about which of us was the biggest loser. I absolutely detest, despise, abhor, resent Jack. WORSE THAN HICCUPS. And I don't mind him knowing. I tell him myself most weekends. He makes G-Pac look like Stephen Fry though. So I like to argue with him, because I invariably win and it makes me feel better about myself, setting place a vicious circle of ego-tripping. I seem to be losing my grip on mental stability already anyhow.

I had this dream where I hit an owl over the head. Whatever Orwell said about people's real lives being boring enough without their telling you about their imagined ones, this is different. This is more interesting than my actual life. I lost a cookie, and I found it dangling out of my window, in a bag. But there was this owl there, trying to eat it. So I hit it over the head with the palm of my hand, and shut the window before it flew back up.

And that was it. I'm quite certain it has some significance, otherwise I wouldn't remember it so clearly. It was broad daylight, and I hit it with my right hand. Why would I hit an OWL, for chrissakes? If there was an actual owl at my window, I'd yell and reverse as fast as I knew how. Stuff the goddam cookie, you know?

Then I had this other dream where I woke up and Sura was in my house. That was simply too much. I was this close to flipping out. I don't like dreams whereby I meet people in my pyjamas. I first remembered it when I was looking in my cupboard for some reason, and I shouted out.

And you'd think even less of me if I could express myself with a greater degree of lucidity.

Sun, 04 Jun 2006 20:47:41 GMT

Okay, so. I didn't go to Paris, I didn't even go to France. I didn't leave the country at any point during the last week. Nor did I leave the region. I have not been further away than Newcastle for a long, long time. February, I should say.

So I pottered around. I spent most of my time at the yard, so I've pulled lots of muscles and broken lots of nails. I don't mind shovelling copious amounts of horse shit. It's not what I'd pick to do on a sunny day in June, but menial yet demanding physical tasks afford me time for reflection, without the pointlessness of static meditation.

So yesterday, I couldn't get in the bathroom, as another member of my family had already staked their claim on it. So I went and painted for a couple of hours. Because the fruit of my labours was sightly,

I know the easel's standing crooked. Given how long it took for me to make the easel stand at all, I consider it satisfactory. I have no idea who that horse is, nor have I ever seen it before in my life, mmmkay? And it's just a picture, with no hidden meaning, which is why I like it. It's a horse, and it stands for a horse, because IT IS A HORSE and not a symbol or anything like that. I mean to sort out its forelock, mouth and nostril, but I'm scared of ruining it.

I would not care to explain my choice of wallpaper. I was probably about eight when I my mother picked it. I had not spine enough to resist.

I meant to watch Wilde last night, but I was tired. I got dry eyeballs, and kept forgetting to blink. I fully intend to watch that tonight. I want to watch it on my own.

So, although my respite was brief, and housed no significant events save the removal teeth from my upper jaw, I feel better for it. Apart from the whole tooth thing. I'd show you my deposed teeth, but that's not the kind of girl I am. Take my word for it, they're rather large, bloody, and one has a section of my flesh on it. I'd like to have a go at life with perfect dentition. It's not cosmetic. Although yes, aesthetically, my teeth are criminal, they do cause me pain and whatever, and they don't know when to drop out. I'm not a stoic to begin with, and now that I have no upper canines or premolars, eating has gotten a shade more difficult.

As noting things in my journal does seem to aid my memory: white acrylic.

Fri, 02 Jun 2006 20:29:07 GMT

Today I managed to get my wrists quite badly sunburnt, which is odd and not a little perplexing. It looks bizarre. Just like symmetrical scald marks, that stretch from my wrist to halfway up my lower arm.

Today did feature the Noble Steve, though. And pony behaved himself impeccably.

Right now, I could just fancy going in the shower, then going to sleep. What unnerves me is that there is nothing stopping me. If someone was sat trying to make me understand the dative and nominative tenses, or work out what in blazes a vector quantity is, I'd tell them to push off, and I'd go to bed. But they're not, so I can't. I'm still sat here, and I'm sure I will be for a while.