After my last little outburst, I'm feeling a hell of a lot better. I actually feel quite sorted, which is, to be honest, an odd emotion for me. Especially as the last time I wrote anything, I was feeling like shit. Since then, quite a lot and nothing has happened. Maybe this change in mood is just a temporary thing, but I'm enjoying it all the same.
I didn't actually get pissed on Thursday as I was planning to do. Instead I went to ballet. It was a really easy class as our normal teacher was away. We had a replacement who had no idea what level we were. At one point she asked us if we could do pose pirouettes- something we have all been able to years. Of course, we didn't say anything and enjoyed having a relaxing class. Even the allegro combination was easy- just glissardes, pas de chat and a couple of other easy steps. Though of course, I didn't do the allegro- I just sat on the floor and did some stretches.
On Friday, things started to go a bit tits-up. I'd got up pretty early but managed to waste so much time in the morning that I didn't manage to get to work early. It really seems that whatever time I get up has no bearing on what time I get to work. The more time I have in the mornings, the more time I manage to waste. Anyway, work was okay. I started on my personal statement, and helped draft a letter to the HR department telling them to stop pissing me about if they wanted to keep me. I almost had a falling out with a guy I share a room with as he got annoyed that I'd gone for a cigarette break. Sometimes I'd like to shove a lit cigarette up his moaning arse.
After work, K and I headed out for a drink. She was off on a hot date and needed a drink to calm her nerves. We ended up perched on the end of a table. The couple at the other end of the table had an argument and the woman stormed out. The guy responded in such a feeble way- he sort of stared at her, open mouthed, then turned back to the table and poured the rest of the wine into his glass. Nice to see that men are equally useless wherever you go (note to all male readers: I'm sure you're not all pathetic. It must be just all the ones I've met). I love hanging out with K but I've not seen her all that much since Christmas. We've both been ill, and when I haven't been ill, I've been a bit nuts (walking out of parties and the such like).
Anyway, K went off on her date and I set off home. I called a friend to see whether anything was happening that evening- when I'd spoken to her earlier in the week she'd said she would keep me updated. When I finally got through (my mobile really needs replacing- its top of my list of things to do), she said that there was some thing happening in east London and that I should come. However, then the ultimate spanner was thrown in: "oh, we've invited your ex but you should still come". Rather than spitting in the gutter (what I felt like doing on hearing that) or kicking something (what I thought about doing a split second later- I would've done it had I not learnt my lesson from the last kicking incident), I tried to be very polite- though I probably failed, I don't know, I was a bit angry- and hung up, then walked home, swearing under my breath the whole way. I'm not very good when I'm angry. I either lose it completely and start shouting, or I bottle it all up and turn a bit malevolent. Luckily (for Thameslink trains at least), I only had to wait three minutes for a train, or else I might have been tempted to become a little destructive.
Back home, I decided I didn't want to eat potato bake. Fuming, I cooked some chana masala, though it was quite watery with tears, and I added enough spice to suit my pretty fiery mood. As I was cooking, I poured myself a giant vodka. My housemate got home, and knocked back some booze of her own, which of course, made me drink more. And then I started crying again, though this time about what I thought about the world in a more general sense, rather than my own personal world.
I retreated to my room where I put on some music as loud as I thought I could get away with and drank more vodka. I stopped drinking Zubrowka as it was less alcoholic than the Smirnoff I had in my room. Zubrowka is a nice 40%- enough to get you pissed, but you don't get pissed quick enough to turn into a liability. Smirnoff Blue is 50%, and I usually drink it far too quickly. However, I had watered it down a little with 40% vodka when I was in Norway. I'd been sick on the Blue and decided that adding a little weaker vodka would stop me being sick. It worked- I wasn't sick, though I was quite a horrible drunk. As usual, I started feeling a bit lonely, and I tried to call people. I called M- no answer. I called S- she was pissed at the Barfly. I called the friend I'd spoken to earlier and apologised for the text message I'd sent her, even though I couldn't remember what I'd said, and even though I know that apologising for your actions- especially if you don't know if you mean it- is pretty fucking weak.
In the end, however, I had quite a good night. My music collection is pretty cool (to me anyway) and kept me entertained for hours. The vodka seemed never ending (though the mixer seemed to be, which of course meant stronger drinks as the night went on). I even found someone to talk to who was just as pissed as me and didn't mind running up a huge phone bill. I fell asleep, if not happy, then drunk and content.
On Saturday, I decided to be ultimately lazy. I had- before I started drinking- planned to go to the library, and then go to girl S's for dinner before meeting up for another friends birthday. As it happened, I didn't even get dressed. I just hung out in my pyjamas all day, baked some cookies and read a book. I had some nice chats with some of my friends, and hung out with my housemate for a bit. I even, as I was in such a lazy mood, had a nap, though I was rudely awoken thanks to the fact that I'd fallen asleep on a pair of nail scissors.
The thing that upset me the most on Saturday was the whale. I hadn't been following the progress of this whale. In fact, it was only on Friday that I realised that when they said it was in the Thames, they meant it was actually in London, rather than in the Estuary. Seeing the pictures of the poor whale on the boat, dying, made me really sad and I ran to my housemates room in tears. I find myself crying so much nowadays. I cry about a whale. How sad is that? I even cried when Ariel Sharon had a stroke, and I'm completely anti-Israeli (or pro-Palestinian, I guess they're one and the same, sentiment wise). I dont know why a whale would upset me so much. I think I have real issues about death, but I'm hoping I can put off addressing these.
Sunday was a nice day, all in all. My mum came to visit. I'd figured that she wouldn't get here until just before three, and planned my time accordingly. So I was a little surprised when I was in the shower and my housemate knocked on the door to tell me she was here. Seems she ran for her connecting train. They're resourceful, these mums! It was really nice, hanging out with my mum. I showed her round the Camp (that's the name of where I live, long story) properly, as she hadn't seen it since I moved in, and hadn't really seen most of the flat. She was amazed that it was possible to fit so much stuff into my room. I guess it's quite packed full of random stuff, as well as having far too many clothes and books for the amount of space. I like it that way though. I know my room is very unique- no one else would want one like this. It's tidy, but only out of necessity. If I let it get messy then I can't find the floor, so its easier to keep everything in order.
My mum and I went for a stroll around the area (which takes all of 5 minutes to do) and went to a Spanish restaurant for lunch. Over an enormous paella (for me) and a plate of flesh (lamb or something, for her) as well as chocolate souffles, I talked and talked about everything that was going on. She- amazingly- agreed with most of the things I was saying. She too thinks I should have more self-respect and should not be around (or even care about) people who don't respect me and don't treat me in an acceptable way. She also agrees with my views on my current job situation, and doesn't think I should let them basically shit on me. The funny thing is that I do actually have a lot of respect for myself- it's just that I don't always expect other people to act in a similar way towards me. And I've had enough of that. From now on, if someone is my friend, they will have to act like that. I'm not chasing anyone in the hope of finding some intimacy when they have no intention of doing the same.
Some friendships are, by their very nature, transitionary, and the best thing to do is to know when to let go. That's not to say that I am going to shift to being mean to anyone. No, I'm just going to stop expecting relationships with people to be carried out with the level of integrity that I like to think I have myself. Some friendships are also not worth the effort that goes into them. Is there really any point trying to force something that won't grow naturally? I'm not so sure that that's the way we should be conducting our lives. A far better way would be to see things as temporary, rather than a thing that can be quantified and labelled. What may feel right one day may not the next week. The person you feel the closest to might not the same person one week to the next. No one's emotions are static, and so neither should be their friendships.
I suppose what I'm trying to say is that I'm going to relax and take things at face value. At the end of the day, the only person I can rely on and trust is myself. You can only really achieve intimacy through physical closeness. Is this why I sleep with people? Possibly. Is that bad? I don't think so. It's certainly no worse than trying to achieve intimacy through other methods. Why are certain types of intimacy seen as being worse than others? Frankly, I don't see what the point in being open emotionally is if you're unwilling to be open physically. That doesn't mean that it has to be to the same person. In fact it's often better if it's not. Pretty much all the people I share my thoughts and feelings with, I would never ever want to sleep with. And that works both ways. Realistically, what are the odds that you will connect with someone on a physical and emotional level? In my current state, the answer is zero as I will do anything to avoid being put in that situation.
This is turning into a bit of a tirade, and a very badly written one at that. I'm not sure I'm expressing myself very well. If it comes across like I am sleeping with people left, right and centre, then please be assured that I'm not. Nor am I talking about my feelings with people all over the place. This blog doesnt count as there is a degree of separation, making it far easier for me to write about how I feel. Plus the fact that I will probably never meet most of the people reading this.
The other thing I have been thinking about recently is this: There is absolutely no need for me (or anyone else) to use other peoples opinions to validate myself. Constantly seeking the approval of others in order to feel good about yourself is stupid and completely devoid of any purpose. If you are happy with something then that is enough. It doesn't matter that it's not the coolest band or the best book or the most fashionable jeans. If you like it, then have the fucking strength of character to stick with it. Don't be so impressionable and weak that you value other peoples opinions over yourself. Recently I had a conversation about the profiles that people write on myspace and the concerted effort that goes into the lists of favourite bands and so on. Why lie? Are you that insecure that you think writing the truth will scare people away? So you like Take That. Write it down! So you think that the Crazy Frog is on a par with Mozart. Write that! To be fair, there must be quite a few people who like it, wasn't it number 1 for about four months? Someone must be buying it, and I dont think its those green toad-like creatures living in the pond. Its the painfully-wannabe-cool music lists that are the worst, stuff along the lines of "I'm so fucking edgy, look at my hipper-than-thou music taste and my eminently superior style. I'm so up-to-the-fucking-minute that by the time you read this, it will be so pass. I'm off to start another uber-cool trend that I've stolen directly from the Guardian style magazine".
Actually, that was probably an excellent description of The Rakes. What a bunch of tossers they are. Sorry if anyone likes them. I personally think their music sucks and that they're wankers- though I would say that, really.
I've gone off completely on a tangent now and I can't remember what I was writing about. You'd think that the obvious thing would be to scroll up and have a look, but my mouse is broken and it would be too much hassle to do it any other way.
Oh, just so I don't forget, The Rakes is a shit name for a band anyway.
Hmm, I think I was going off on a rant about myspace music lists that think theyre too cool for school before I started going on a rant about The Rakes. I have completely lost whatever train of thought I had, anyway. Which is probably just as well, as it's bedtime.
Good night all- I'm off to listen to the crappest music I can possibly find. Love to you all!!
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