We've got each other and that's a lot

Looks like today isn't shaping up to be so bad after all. I just got a text from Lucy, saying that if she manages to sort out train times, she will come to the party. She lives in York, so it's more than a little understandable. Elle all ready said she would let me know nearer the time, but that she would love to come.


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Lucy and me met on enrollment day of college - we sat next to one another and snooped GCSE results while filling in the forms. At the time, we were doing the same A levels, so it made sense to hang round together, though we soon discovered that we got on extremely well, bonding over 80s rock and fantasy novels.

A few weeks in, she introduced me to Elle, who I'll admit I was petrified of. Lucy is an extremely quiet soul, possibly even more introverted than me, and I always assumed Elle would be similar. However, what I got was a loud mouthed girl bearing a tattoo fetish. Appearances can be, and usually are, deceiving for Elle turned out to be the most soft hearted person I had met in a long time.

If my college friends come here, I don't care whether or not I have Chii ears.

Did you just call me pudding?

Carley's birthday celebrations went ahead last night. Since the majority of it was set to take place in H20, a place containing heavy strobes, I decided to sit it out. Not that I was disapppointed or anything - I highly doubt I would have been drunk enough to fully appreciate it.

As it turned out, I didn't miss out on anything, as Carley played her music in full anticipation, so loud in fact that when the ticket people came and Skye and Alex were thrashing her door, it took three attempts for her to hear.

I didn't get much sleep that night and as a result woke up this morning feeling oh-so-grouchy, a step backwards to my usual frame of mind. I also received an email that (though admittedly on the trivial side) did not improve matters. My chii ears have been dispatched, but are going to take three weeks to arrive. That means that unless some miracle occurs, they won't be here in time for the cosplay party.

I really hate complications.

This is Akatsuki

....Where the skies are always blue...

My mother rang last night - not that it was a surprise or anything, she does it every night - but I've noticed that since my imminent return to Whitters, she's started to do it earlier and earlier. Plus, as well as her usual questions, 'what did you have for dinner?', 'what are you going to have for tea?' she's added, 'you sound bunged up'. I know full well I'm not at all, it's just her maternal instincts going into hyperdrive.

She promised that when I got back we'd have pizza (it's one of my favourite foods, but I don't ever buy it because it also happens to be the favourite food of the idiot on the other side of the wall). I would be excited were it not for the fact that my mother is allergic to bread; whenever she's feeling really desperately hungry, she makes herself a cheese sandwich and then lies on the sofa for days, clutching her stomach.

I only hope that my presence doesn't inflict madness upon her.


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I never knew, You never were

A challenge on Raw Em0tion recently was to submit a poem that had 5 or more alliterative lines. Here is my submission:

I never knew
You never were
And hated hearing empty words
Feeling every emptiness
Like bitter bounds of joy
I never knew
You couldn’t be
Something that meant more to me
Another status quo, it seems
I never knew you were.

Delight is....

When I think about delight in its simplest form, a whole manner of cliches come to mind - chocolate, romance, a pretty sunset. Who am I kidding? It's a sickening combination.

The sad truth is, my happiness comes from a far differen source, miles apart from the previous three. How many, after all, would admit that it was someone's death that inspired their happiness?

I thought so.

I was fourteen, young, naive and in the midst of examinations. The last thing I wanted was to be at a funeral, especially since the person in the casket had been like a mother to me. I remember watching as they carried the coffin out to the graveyard out back, followed by a number of arrangements - flowers shaped like angels and delicate words I could never say.

Don't worry, the laughing comes later.

Weeks passed and the mourners left one by one. I watched as my mother withered away in the graveyard, watering the flowers morning and night. I half expected the priest to come knocking at our door, praying for the soul of my ghostly mother.

The day inevitably came that I failed my exams and returned to a house of flowers; my mother and aunt sat on the couch with shadowed faces, the dead chrysanthemums of the cemetery in a bucket behind them. When they told me of their plans to create a thing of beauty, I laughed.

Within a year, they were creating angels angels with golden wings, purple framed lettering, a snowman with glass eyes and a top hat.

The reason I associate funeral flowers with happiness is that it wasn't until our front room had no heat and finding the phone became an expedition and I walked with a constant limp due to holly leaves, which I kept finding in my shoes, that I saw my mother laugh. I deeply believe that moments like those are better than any selfish cliche.

Lust of the Dopey variety

From the moment I stepped out of bed this morning, I knew today was going to be slightly off-peak. Having stayed in bed most of the weekend, catching up on my previous sleeping pattern (a phrase of Alissa's I swore I would never use), I felt refreshed and ready to face today's lesson.

I always enjoyed poetry in school, mostly because no one else got it. The second I arrived in college and was seated in a classroom with sixteen likeminded individuals (the seventeenth an IT student who seemed extremely lost), the novelty wore off.

Anyway, I was determined that ready for my poetry workshop I was going to go to bed early and not be in a grouchy mood, as seems to be the default these days. I guess it doesn't help that the teacher we have is the happy, smiley, stay at home mum type that keeps a bucket of lollipops under the desk in case you scrape your knee on the way to the projector.

As it happened, I was wrong in my assumptions, for as I was about to switch off my laptop, Pru came on MSN and we ended up talking until almost 1am.

I'll never understand MSN - I think it's useful, but ...weird. Whenever I'm talking to Beth, she makes a point about disappearing then coming back, saying 'I've just been speaking to ________, __________ and ______', giving me a running commentary on what happened in their conversations, even if I'm talking to them as well. Then there's my friend Douglas, who keeps every conversation he's ever had on file in case he needs to use it as evidence.

I made it through poetry class, luckily, if I hadn't there would have been disastrous consequences. Following the lesson, me, Laney and Pru went to the food court for some lunch, where our table was suddenly confronted by the strangest and funniest thing I've seen in quite a while.

As a Derbyshire girl, the height of scams I've seen is people begging on the streets for their blind Auntie Doris, so as you can imagine, this kind of took me by surprise ^^. A woman, who I can only assumed bathed in perfume, appeared at the end of our table, waving fliers for some random stylist. Pay £59 for a styling session! she was going on, you'll get £500 worth of stuff and a bottle of champagne! She was really giving it some, how you could bring your own clothes and how there were tonnes of hot guys on the shoot....I only wish I had a camera.

Getting home from the food court, I ended up following about seven people into the entance, so had to wait about five minutes for the lift to come back, which for some reason took forever. By the time it finally arrived, I all but threw myself into it, but my stupidly bad karma struck again. The doors had barely closed before they were open and the only person in the world I would have asked not to be stuck in a lift with stepped in.

yup. Carley.

She's having a party tomorrow, to celebrate her birthday and guess who wishes they weren't invited?