Day 24 - A photo of a night you loved.

a controversial entry, no doubt. but it's my gut response to a night i loved. i've been thinking about this for weeks and this night had to be it. it started as a film night for me and pow that ended at five-thirty in the morning as a drinking fest with graham and liam. one of the nights that i can remember having to stop and catch my breath to remember how special my life is.

princess tuesday...

moving.

so.

slowly.

i've woken-up this morning now for the second time. the first was to make my tiny soldier some breakfast and lunch. this time, it's to type-up this blog, dress and try to find my way to the post office to send off two parcels (one for my hairy little graham and the other for tiny molly). i should eat but am upset that i gained a pound.

this second time of waking-up was substantially better than the first (despite the distinct lack of Muffin) because of three things. ONE: an email from miss gorman (of the scottish wonderful duo who i used to be in a band with), TWO: an email from ex-husband saying hello and that he was not dead and THREE: lots of wondrous comments and fings from all my favourite british people.

i woke from my second slumber rather reluctantly after being roused from a dream about ashley and myself. we were aboard a cruise ship for two weeks and walking along the decks of the ship, watching the giant swimming fish and talking about all the things in our heads. she looked so beautiful and happy and i honestly cannot wait to see her and actually be able to touch her face and hug her again. the visits are much too far and few in-between... i think i will use this as a gateway into my list this week.. i heart:

really lovely dreams... if you're retarded and didn't connect the two, please see above.
IHOP
The Eels
the smell of fags and perfume... a thorn in Muffin's side, but one of my favourite things in the world, ever. i don't know why i love it so much, but i goddamn do.
waffles with maple syrup and Cool Whip on
friends that actually get into touch
East Bound and Down... if you've not seen it, goddamn watch it! Muffin's been forcing me for the last several days and i adore it so hard.
Cool Whip
NOT having fleas in the house... Origami's beautiful doggie, Genghis, had fleas and liked to writhe everywhere in the house, apparently, so prior to her moving out, it seems Genghis left as many fleas as he possibly could in as many little crevices and hiding places as he could find. Muffin and i were being eaten alive for the first ten days of my living here... we've since flea-bombed the house and despite there still being a few here and there, which means we have to pull out a can of whoop ass every now and again ("whoop ass" being flea-spray)... who cares though, y'know? most of them are gone and they'll all be gone soon enough and our little lives will be even more perfect than before.
the way EVERYONE loves to talk to me... literally, everyone... to the point where Muffin is contemplating not taking me out anymore. we cannot go a SINGLE place without having someone stop me to ask about my tattoos, accent or hairs. for example, yesterday, we minced into Victoria's Secret to size my tits when, after being taken in the back to remove my clothes, a squeal of delight came from the lady serving me, then a shout to Jessica who called-in a further three people to look at my tattoos and have a questiontime with me that lasted nearly half an hour, leaving poor Muffin amongst the lingerie with his own thoughts and questionable sexuality. i came out and he had THAT face one... the one that instantly tells me that he is jealous that people don't ask him more about HIS tattoos and HIM. i just smiled smugly and touched all the bras i could as we pranced out of the shop.
finding things in America that make me think of my english babies... like a local town called Graham and "Snatch Straps" at a car-boy-place (these things make me think of Graham and Janeyface respectively). it pleases me to no end and makes me miss their tiny faces even more, but also reminds me they are closer than i think... like graham, he's 12.7 miles away.
Padgett
hot wings
ranch dressing
crochetting
a good pair of slippers
our fishy babies... i needed something to care for. i needed some form of baby to love and feed and affectionately name and coo over. it was decided that a puppy would be too risky for the year we're out here as i'd no doubt become far too attached after i found it difficult to leave an Auto Zone after a mere eight minutes with a shop puppy... fish were decided, so Muffin immediately got onto Craigslist and sorted out the tank situation whilst i picked out the perfect fishies in my head... the ones that would go best together in the small tank we were getting. we then went to the fishy shop and i had an hour-long fish-nerd talk with a lady about cichlids and shrimps and sharks, which led to the purchase of a powder blue gourami, three mollies, a rubber-lipped plec and a red-tailed shark (who was Muffin's and was named Steve-Dave. he has since died, presumably due to bad stock from one shop. his death is blamed on me and every time Muffin sees the tank now he scowls at the fact that MY fish are still alive.)
thinking... which i have been doing a lot. i have a lot to process still... life here, people, places, things... my little mind is racing constantly and it really is making me feel good... to finally have the chance to sit with my own thoughts and file them away where they're meant to be is so nice and i'm thankful for this time.
serious talks... i feel it's extremely important for me to tell Muffin everything that's going on in my head... i don't wand him to doubt things and i don't want him to worry, so at the end of most days, i will lie with my head on his chest and tell him about the thoughts going through my mind and what revelations i had had since our last talk. he's being so respectful and receptive and i appreciate him so much. the talks are easier than i thought they would be and the hugs have been tighter than i ever dreamed they could be. he's amazing and i thank him.
fags... yes. quitting in November, then January, then March, then... shut up. i  have a few here and there now, but only with Muffin's permission. it's the only thing i do that i feel genuinely guilty about because i KNOW how much he hates it, but it really isn't easy to quit. i have certainly cut-down massively... like, i'll go several days without one, so i'm getting there with the quitting, but they are just so good... and so much BETTER in america!
pine trees
having a friend in WA... YAYSARAH!
imagining running into Origami somewhere... i actually, literally PRAY when i leave the house that i will see her... not to do or say anything malicious, but just to see her in real life... the same way one would hope to see some sort of wildcat on an expedition... just to see it and make sure it's real. i want to see her, smile at her and walk away, that's all i want.
bikini-cut pants
photo sessions

i love every beautiful tuesday....

today... well, i was awake a few hours ago, got some sleep and now i'm up. that's my day. i sit by the window and it is raining. this is the first rain that's happened since i've been in Washington and it kinda makes me feel like i'm home. Muffin's asleep and i just at a biscuit. i reckon i should just get on with the list this week... i can see this being a good one.



the fact that my boyface can bake... who knew? i woke up in the middle of the night last night to the smell of cinnamon and chocolate chips. i was initially concerned the house was burning down and that it had accidentally been built out of confection and was emitting the best death-smell in the world... my fears were soon quelled by snuggles and forehead kisses from Muffin, telling me that his biscuits tasted JUST like the ones his dad used to make. i awoke this morning to consume one immediately and fall harder in love with him than i knew was possible.
Heartilation
The Eels
forests
morning snuggles... god, to have them again... they make my days complete. it's so nice to wake up and have someone hold me and kiss my neck... nothing is better and nothing makes my mornings more special.
the sound of the Simpsons crying
American applesauce
Mark Dixon
tuna mayonaise
Polish soup
moustaches
Mitchell and Webb
Bison Grass Vodka
Liam Sharp
watching boys wee
my leaving party... much like my birthday, my leaving party was special because i spent the entire night in a state of shock that all of the things that happened, all the people that were there, it was all because of me. the people were there because they loved me and would miss me. the songs were sung because it was known they'd make me smile. that night was so special and it was special because it was mine and i will never, ever forget it.
Caribbean Queen
the way babies snort when you pick them up
Red Velvet Cake Yoplait yoghurt
my last several days in england... nothing ever in the world could compare to them. the hugs received, the smiles exchanged and the words shared... i honestly don't imagine i will ever experience such love again in my entire life. i adore every single person that made the effort to see me and contact me before i left, it will be forever remembered and i thank you.
sucking on the grass when i've finished a bottle of Bison Grass Vodka
extra-long Pow hugs... in the days before i left the hugs became longer and the squeezes tighter. his hugs are always my favourite anyways, but the last several were incredibly important to me... he squeezes me like he meant it, like he was really going to miss me and goddamn i squeezed him back.
cucumber and ham sandwiches
John Snow's ties
Chewing with my mouth closed
annunciation
felt-tipped pens
miracle whip
when my glasses frames are still warm after having just been adjusted
how polite the french are
all my goodbyes at the airport
Welch's grape juice
Red Robin
The Magnetic Fields
being able to text Paige and Ashley
Mexican food
not HAVING to talk... but just sitting and listening to things around me... lyrics to songs, birdsong, quiet.... i like that and wish i could have it more often.
OMGBOYFACE... are you KIDDING me?! i am now officially in america and i am with Muffin. we are slowly working out our daily routines which makes me happy and feel incredibly domesticated. i love it and being able to wake up to his face and know that he is there, loving me and here to support me whatever i decide to do.
Graham emails... he's a good boy and really has been an incredible person since i met him. he's listened to me talk nonstop and has emailed me with lovely sentiment that i really, really couldn't thank him enough for. he's a wonderful person and i wish that everyone could meet him and love him.

It’s getting harder… no, not THAT! Well… maybe that.

Six days… 

I crapped my pants on my way into work this morning when it dawned on me that all I have left is six days.


That’s 132 hours (I know that, for you math buffs out there, you will equate six days as NOT being 132 hours, but the extra twelve hours are actually taking into account the final few hours.)

That’s 7,920 minutes… 

That’s NOT a lot of time. 

At this time in approximately 132 hours I will be on my way to the airport with several of my favourites on toe to hand me tissues, hug me and tell me I’ll be okay. I will be an emotional trainwreck after having spent the day celebrating Pow’s birthday and participating in what I can only describe as epic events for the preceding week. Epic because of their special nature and importance in making this transition easier. I have set myself the task of attempting to memorize as many details about the next week as possible with my eyes, brain and camera so I can take them with me to consume when I begin to pine after England. 

I feel the events of an epic nature officially started on Monday when I arrived home to the beaming faces of my two current favourite boys, Pow and Graham. They had been recording a song all afternoon that Graham had written about Channel 4 news anchor Krishnan Guru Murthy. Because they had been such hard workers all day I immediately set to washing-up, cooking dinner and baking cookies for the three of us. Once they finished recording the audio they needed to make a video for it, ever the helper, I instantly set myself the task of making ties and helping with the audio for the remainder of the evening. 

Tuesday with the Powtalk in bed. It shifted me in ways that I did not know I could be shifted and made me love my life more than I ever knew possible. I won’t really elaborate more because you’ve read the entry… there’s no point boring you with details that you can easily scroll down and read. I’d rather save the finger energy and brainpower. 

Wednesday was DanPow haircut day. When he walked through the door I was on the sofa kinda watching Hollyoaks and kinda talking to Muffin. Pow looked manly in a pair of black manslacks, a black manblouse and proper manshoes. He had been on a film set all day and looked the part of his character, a racist, no-nonsense cop on the beat! The instant he came in he pulled his sunglasses off and said he wanted his head shaving… I said I’d do it if he did mine, so we did. I finished my conversation with Muffin and the evening progressed from haircuts to dinner to films and generally just a beautiful night with just the two of us. I spent a lot of the evening appreciating the silences between us, knowing that that would be the last of them before I leave (because houseguests will be arriving VERY soon and staying until I step on my plane). We talked, laughed and laid our heads on one-another’s shoulders until we were both too sleepy to do anything but flail our arms around and complain

Yesterday proved to be amazingly magnificent and also proved that every single day before I leave will be better than the last. I arrived home to see Pow walking up the street with arms full of shopping. I helped him put his shopping away and we decided we wanted to see the new Ellen Page film so we pranced in the rain to Blockbuster and purchased that and “I Love You Philip Morris” (I saw this at the cinema ages ago with Muffin and can I just say, if you’ve not been lucky enough to have seen it yet, sort your BLOODY life out and see it immediately! It’s amazingly well done and a great story). The original plan for the night was meant to just be Pow and myself relishing in our last night together in peace but it was decided that Graham needed to come round to sing and play guitar for me so I could film it. 

We started watching “Whip It”  (again, if you’ve not seen this, sort your life out. it’s really cute, fun and heartwarming) and it was decided that I would be joining a girl’s rollerderby team when I arrive in Washington and that that would officially make me the coolest, cutest, most useful wifey in all the land. We mused over rollerderby names for me to use until Graham arrived. He and I began smoking almost immediately and Pow and I huddled together on the sofa until the film ended and then the boys armed themselves with guitars. As soon as the film was over Pow suggested, rather fabulously, that my rollerderby name should be “Butcher’s Girl.” this would be for TWO reasons… ONE: that’s my name, don’t wear it out! TWO: Hot Japanese Girl, Pow’s band, has a song called “Butcher’s Girl” which I could plug when I become a super rollerderby champion and then they could get invited to do a tour of America just by being awesome and associated with me, thusly shooting them straight into international stardom! 

I sat on the sofa and filmed the boys practicing their Hot Japanese Girl set and generally being silly. They became progressively louder until, at around midnight-thirty, the door went in a loud and startling manner. Immediately concerned it was the police or a disgruntled neighbour, we halted any noise to see if they would leave. The knocking persisted for a further two minutes and Pow decided he HAD to answer it. Graham and I braced ourselves for the unknown… when the familiar alarm ping went off we winced and heard a shout of glee fall from Pow’s mouth and I heard a voice I knew and missed a lot. An old friend of Pow’s and a man I love massively was at the door, chancing us still being awake… Mr Liam Sharp (if you don’t know who he is, go ahead and take a moment to click the link on his name and become suitably jealous that I have such awesome friends). We hadn’t seen him for six weeks because he’s been in america on holiday with his family, so it was a pleasant surprise to see his big, beautiful face. 

I leapt up off the sofa and squealed with delight, bursting into the hallway to hug him. 

the rest of the evening was a blur of booze... i lasted until five in the morning and then had to go die, otherwise i would NOT have made it into work today. 


i DO remember many occasions where i just had to stop and think to myself that i have an incredibly fortunate life to have so many beautiful people in it. i sat and watch Liam as he and Pow sang and Graham played guitar and felt like i was JUST where i needed to be and i smiled. 


just now though, and all the other minutes in the day, it becomes more difficult to think about leaving... about giving that last hug to people. the main person currently is Pow, and i presume that's because i see him most, but for godssake it is going to destroy me. i am trying to make sure i go through every motion of my days remembering everything that's special for me but sometimes my heart takes over and i have to get misty-eyed... 


i almost feel like i'm six days away from cheating on england and my life with some other younger country and life. i certainly hope it's worth it.

tuesday or something...

i'm tired and stuff... doing another blog, so i won't write a big thing here... just wait for the next blog. 

and have a lovely tuesday... 

and a list... 

 
Playing on swings… it took me two weeks of harassing and prodding him before he submitted. It took me making him an incredible stuffed toy, several dinners, cookies and countless cups of tea before he was willing to finally go play on the swings with me. Last Wednesday Graham and I were due to meet at 1727 to swap the latest edition of our themed megamix swap and then go play on the swings. I changed the time of the playdate due to me being covered in SERIOUS amounts of dust and debris from the latest documents that I have been sifting through for workies. I needed a bath and I needed it STAT! I came home, had an incredible bath, shaved my leggies and put on my favourite trousers and jumper before retiring to the sofa to await the arrival of Graham the tiny. He arrived and we sat, swapped discs and had a fag whilst we mulled-over the songs on the musical gifts we had just given one another. Post-fag we marched to a nearby park and played… the swings were TECHNICALLY designated for the bottoms of toddlers, but we happily perched atop the cages created to hold in even the writheiest of children and talked as we swung. We talked about what wild animals we would be, our first impressions of one another and jobs we used to have as I kicked my legs back and forth to create as much swinging action as possible. I paid little attention to most of the conversation as I enjoyed feeling the wind dance around my face and watched the ground change size below me depending on where I was on my pendulous route. I love swinging and in a small way, I love Graham for going with me because it’s been years since I’ve gone and he’s the first person who’s obliged me. More swinging to come.
losing weight… whilst I’m not doing it in the most healthy of ways, I am still doing it and I feel very excellent about it. I have now developed SUCH a massive stress-ball in my stomach that I can barely bring myself to eat more than about 800 calories a day. I become full very quickly and tend to not find myself very hungry for quite some time between eating. People are worried and… well… I’m not. I don’t feel unhealthy. I feel okay… just a little vomittous occasionally. I am sure it’ll pick up again once I’ve settled, but until then, I can now enjoy the fact that I’m officially below thirteen stone and can fit into my wedding dress again (for anyone keeping count, that means I’ve lost 49lbs, not a lot, but enough to make me a happy camper.)
paté
hugs… I seem to have become the biggest hug-slut in the history of the world at the moment. I am sure all my friends are bloody sick and tired of having me ask for hugs, but I don’t care. Last night, before bed, I asked Pow for a total of five hugs, every one after the first prompting a sassy response from him and a shrug from me. At the moment I want to grab everyone that I love most and cuddle them constantly… I can’t get enough of hugs. They have a natural power for making me feel calm and taking away all the ick that I have in my head, so I will continue using these as my free and easy form of Valium.
Graham hugs… VERY few and far-between, which is what I think makes them so special. I’ve have TWO hugs from him in the time that I’ve known him… the first being in the first couple of days and the second being last Wednesday at the end of the day. It was the tightest, most fabulous little bear hug ever and I want MORE!
things that remind me of people
when boys take their top shirts off and the bottom shirt pulls up too, showing off their tummies… gahhhhhh! Yummy!
the way Nick got jealous of Graham… perhaps last week? I posted an entry on IHTAT that said Graham was the funniest person I had ever met… a statement I said with little or no thought. He’s hysterical and although I’ve met a lot of funny people in my life, Graham usually takes the cake with his amazingly quick wit and seemingly endless knowledge of mostly everything. It seems I paid too little notice to this comment though as it was brought up on Saturday night after the pub had shut and Nick and I were sat alone in the beer garden. I was untangling the wire for my headphones when Nick told me that Graham is not actually the funniest person I’d ever met. I confirmed that he was and Nick and I carried on a conversation circling around reasons why Nick is funnier than Graham and why I am wrong. It was cute and made me want to snuggle him. I love Nick and secretly think he is ever-so-slightly funnier than Graham, but only slightly, and in a different way.
realizing that what I have with certain people is really special… oftentimes I find myself getting jealous when I see other people hanging out with Nick, Pow or Janey… the stupid part of my brain that is not very confident becomes wrapped-up in wondering why I’m not good enough and why they aren’t hanging around with ME… this turns into a horrible spiral that makes me begin hating myself for being jealous and hating the other individual for infiltrating my zone…. Then it clicks: what I have with certain people in my life is so, so special. There are things I will do and say with Pow, Janey and Nick that I’ll never do with anyone else and likewise, there are things they will do with  me and say to me that they wouldn’t dream to do with or tell anyone else, so I know very much that the careful cultivation that I have done on the crops of my friendships has not been done in vain, as at the end of the day, they are still my most special creatures and a small part of them loves me an extra-special amount as well.
the smell of boiling pasta
nights in the pub when everyone else has left and it’s just Nick and me
karaoke
Rob Rouse
being in my office alone
Potterton
fresh green beans
bad (terrible)horror films
walking around with no real aim
planning visits with LaDonna… that’s what every phonecall with my sister features at the moment, planning. We discuss the dates I will be in Cheyenne and what I’d like to do, where I will stay (with her) and how nice it will be to see one another. It’s just going to be so nice to see my family again.
the fact that nobody else’s cakes will do
SIXTEEN DAYS!

Everything’s jamming… and not in a Bob Marley sort of way…

No. I am not good this week, for many reasons, most of which I am finding it hard to put my finger on specifically. 

I SHOULD be happy… a great deal of fabulous things have taken place in my little life in the last week that could possibly be glorious enough to make a rich man happy, but no… I am hard to please with all my stress and blargh. 

Yesterday afternoon I arrived home after several days in London (but it was my last trip to London before I leave, adding a great amount of doom and gloom to every corner we turned and piece of siu mai that I ate.). I had spent the previous four days in a state of almost constant laugh with janeyface as we went on adventure after adventure. 

The adventures began on Thursday evening when I arrived after having been journeying on the train in First Class accommodation. I decided to treat myself since it was my last trip to London for a long while and since it was totally only a fiver. I minced into train car “G” in my jeggings, lemon-yellow Dr Martins and gingham cowboy shirt with a giant smile on my face. I am generally friendly to everyone and was especially friendly to the lady that was sat across from my designated seat. She immediately judged me, presumably because of my tattoos and amazinghair… without a second’s hesitation I became Vivian Ward from “Pretty Woman” and she became the shopkeeper (who I shall name, for the purposes of this blog, Katrisha). i went about my business… I sat proudly in my extra-roomy seat and pulled out my crocheting and tub of blueberries and strawberries. I began working on my latest project whilst Katrisha sat across from me pretending not to judge me. She kept her head directed towards her HR Service Level Agreement but kept sweeping her gaze across me and no doubt wondering why National Rail would allow scum like me to sit in the first car when it was CLEARLY only for high-powered business people and high-class prostitutes (Katrisha was the former, but COULD have been the latter, were she about twenty years younger). As the ticket inspector shuffled up the aisle to make sure there were no intruders she began to trundle in her seat, no doubt excited beyond belief to witness the forcible removal of me from the car after I was dramatically unveiled as the holder of an economy ticket instead. I passed my ticket to the gentleman and he glanced at it for a moment, Katrisha stared at him with relentless intent, desperate to hear him announce loudly to the entire car that I was NOT to be sat there and could I please move and that I needed to quiet down or he would call for backup (because clearly, all ticket inspectors have a stock of backup inspectors for the particularly rambunctious passenger who is insistent on staying put). The inspector looked at my ticket, smiled at me and stamped it before handing it back to me. Katrisha was instantly deflated, you could see that. The remainder of my journey was spent being watched by Katrisha and a very mature gentleman who spent the first half of the ride swapping between seats, falling over and crying. They both watched me intently as I crocheted… I am certain the gentleman wanted to talk to me which is why he stared at me so incessantly, but I was uninterested and therefore ignored him. 

Anyways, talk about being side-tracked! 

So I went to London and janey and I participated in a great deal of activities and funtimes… it wasn’t until my last day that it really hit me that every single thing that I did whilst I was there would be my last. Each shopkeeper that I had become so familiar with over the years, each street name I had studied so as to navigate on my own seemed to all be in vain, as I would not be returning to Hackney ever again. 

Alas, we played like we’d never played before. Thursday we drank, made friends with some random ethnics, drank more and slept nude for some reason. Friday we went to Dim Sum, pranced in Chinatown and went home to craft and watch a crap-ton of films. Saturday we went to Walthamstowe (see below) and then to Brixton (also see below) for a Caribbean meal. Sunday was Hackney Farm (ALSO see below), a long walk to a taxidermy and surgical tool shop and home for tattooing and Father Ted. It was a glorious weekend and I couldn’t have imagined a better last trip to London. I love janey and I love our adventures. 

I came home with slight hesitation but a bounty of gifts for Graham and Pow. Prior to my leaving I had a conversation with Graham about his skin colour and the fact that I thought a red shirt would really suit him. He advised that he had no red shirts and demanded I get him one during my trip to London, but stipulated it could cost no more than £3. I did this times two and he was pleased with his bounty of gifts (see “Dexter” below). I brought Pow a pair of surgical scissor-type things for Johnny and three seashell animals for our shelf… he had been quite emo as of late and after a long, drunk texting marathon with him on Thursday I was feeling quite sick at the thought of facing him. Things felt odd and mechanical between us, so I hugged him and went to the pub. A series of events took place that left me feeling quite dejected and left me questioning the foundations our friendship is based on and now I am left here, this afternoon wondering what it will be like when I see him later today. 

This wondering comes after a series of incredibly aggressive texts and curt replies from him. he’s never been like this with me and I hate it. I just want to hold him and will both of our achey, stressy awful away but I don’t feel like he’ll let me do that. I am terribly pensive about going home this evening for fear of what is in store for me… I guess all I can do is hold my breath when I open the door and expect the worst and take whatever’s coming to me. 

So… there we are. my week in a nutshell… I feel like our photocopier, jamming-up every few minutes with all the junk that is being put through me. I’m feeling so fragile at the moment that if I were to even be bumped too hard by a passing pedestrian, I would most likely fall to pieces…

here, have a list.


Inception
Cillian Murphy… PHWOAR!!
watching pen ink dry
stand-up comedy 
my cupcake tattoo… for the amount of times I have been asked if it is real or how it looks so perfect, I love it. From the handles of the scissors to the bottom of the lowest pink splodge, I love my almost-newest tattoo. Not just the tattoo though, but the entire session as well. I love Thomas and I love getting work done by him. We spent the whole time listening to Eminem’s new album and talking about his new procurement of the shop. It was a wonderfully perfect day and it is a wonderfully perfect tattoo.
being sung to… Graham sings to me almost every time we are together and I love that… I love it when he grabs his guitar and starts to strum one of the special emo chords that make my heart want to burst. When Graham isn’t singing to me then Pow is and my favourite is hearing him sing. He sings random silly things to me that I try to memorize so I can take them with me to america, but there’s no way I could ever remember every one of those details. Sigh.
Pow smell
contemplating band names
dogs carrying newspapers
Janey… a janeyblog coming this week, keep your eyeballs peeled.  

Dexter… it was last Wednesday evening. I was sat on the sofa with Graham and watching Zoo TV, singing along to one of Bono’s many hits and ostracizing his trousers every chance I got, whilst I was doing this my fingers were wrapped with brown and orange wool, working on a fox for Chris Tree. Graham watched me for a short time before asking me if I would make him something. Ever-looking for an excuse to not work on the fox I said yes. He asked me if I would make him a Dexter… I asked what a Dexter was and he told me that he was a 2-d cartoon he had created a while back that is used for many little sketches he does. I said yes and that was when the project planning meetings began. We had three that night and by Sunday Dexter was complete. Monday afternoon I pranced out to the back garden with Dexter in hand and asked Graham if he wanted to see him. He nodded and I passed him over. Pow took photos of Graham’s tiny, happy face the instant he received Dexter, but I have no idea where they are… it was the most beautiful little face you could have ever imagined. He beamed like a new parent and snuggled Dexter to his chest immediately. He said he was perfect and hugged me. those are the moments that I live for… the ones that allow me to hand over something someone has been wanting and see how their faces react. It’s a beautiful thing to know that I am able to do that to people… make their faces light up so big. Dexter is one item I am particularly proud of making… probably in the top five.
self-heating face masks 

Hackney Farm… by far my favourite farm that I have ever been to. It’s so, so tiny but also so perfect. it’s got a ridiculous amount of chickens (the ones that wear trousers), a small mammal area (with guinea pigs and rabbits), goats, cows, a donkey, sheep and PIGS!! The most recent daytrip to the farm allowed me to see the two ginger beasts who have no names… I call them Danie and Janey as they remind me of us (lying around being flatulent and kicking one another). I remember when I very first went to the farm almost three years ago. Those two ginger ladies were so tiny compared to their massive size now. I always go to them first and pat their bellies with force, talking to them in a squealy voice before being startled by a chicken or lured by the other pig… the biggest of them all… she’s beautiful and I love her. I love farms and I love Hackney Farm most.   
Kimya Dawson 

Graham Williams… he is just SUCH a special creature and I hate that I only just met him. most nights we stay up on the Book of Face or on our mobiles, messaging back and forth about the news, music or racist things (I must point out here that I am NOT actually a racist, I just find the words and entire concept hysterical). Yesterday whilst I was on my way to the shop I asked if he wanted anything from the shop and he offered me a list consisting of one fizzy pop that is neither light nor dark, one sweet that had been dipped in something and one packet of crisps that are crunchy. He stipulated NONE of the packaging could have red on them and spouted off a number of other things that I didn’t pay attention to because I was attempting to memorize the moment. He is just literally the funniest, most fabulous person I’ve ever met in my life and I love spending time with him. This week will feature a playdate on the swings, blue cakes with coconut in and emo megamixes we’ve made for one another. I am muy excited!
Stafford… a stupendously jolly man who runs a Caribbean restaurant in Brixton… I love him and his wife’s incredible cooking.
riding first-class on the train
mega-mixes
discussing food with janey… because that’s literally all we ever do… discuss food or sex. I love janey.
stopping-off at random pubs with janey
bratwurst
Franny… one of the few people I feel genuinely close to at the moment. For all the people that seem to have abandoned me, Franny is there offering me hugs every chance she gets. I love her and I love spending time with her. she’s a beautiful creature inside and out and is another person I HATE myself for not having bonded with sooner…
Lee Lee
Thai breakfasts… sausages, egg, curry and rice OH MY!!
when Muffin surprises me… he’s getting better, slowly. He’s been surprising me with random phone calls and photos at least daily and my heart is all pleased for this. he’s a delightful boy.
apple juice
Sam Rockwell… PHWOAR!
dim sum
Brixton… full of all the most fabulous trinkets, clothes, foods and people ever. I love it so big.
sea shell animals… oh. em. gee.
taxidermy
elderly couples
good buttercream icing
cowboy shirts 

my Kevin tattoo
Father Ted
Belle & Sebastian
Ardal O’Hanlon
smoked salmon… but ONLY when accompanied by soy sauce and wasabi… NOM!!
being familiar enough with London to be able to navigate confidently
The Lucy Show
my hair
all-butter cookies
my drawings
fresh watermelon
riding the underground
Paige
English Countryside
sideshow freaks
caravans
Flight of the Conchords
wigs
spinach dumplings
soy sauce
boiled potatoes
strange and confusing game shows
clouds
sunny days
courgettes
Polish soup
really old hospitals
animals that have been preserved in jars
Walthamstowe… best market, chinese pound shop and people-watching locale in the WORLD. Fact.
good posture
Fox Gloves… the flowers, not tiny mittens for woodland creatures, although wouldn’t THOSE be CUUUTE?!
caramel shortcake

worrying schmorrying....

I was sat at my desk last Wednesday morning, participating in a day that felt much less tense and ugly than the several that had preceded it. 

I was going through files, deciding what was fit for archiving and what I could send for destruction when Clarke glided into the room as she always does… she actually glides, with her amazing fashion, posture and smile. Since her recent birthday, which marked her half a century on the planet, she seems to have become even more beautiful than before… her general appearance sets her at approximately the same height as me, gives her perfect skin and a figure most teenagers would literally die for. She is astoundingly beautiful and I secretly hate her every time she comes within a ten-yard radius of me because I just know I will not be that stunning at fifty… there’s not even a tiny chance of that happening. 

Clarke stood behind me, fiddling with the grey stat-file cupboard and asked how many days it is now… I glanced at her in a nervous way and told her that it was thirty-six and pulled a face… a face that displayed pensive excitement. 

She said that I look like I’ve lost a lot of weight. 

I told her I had. 

Then she cocked her head to the right and asked if I’d been worrying. 

My bottom lip quivered. 

She asked how things have been with Muffin… I said they hadn’t been great. I outlined the roughdraft of that essay by discussing the lack of contact, the busy-ness and the fact that he seems to enjoy participating in leisure activities with his estranged spouse (going to gigs, meals out and generally hanging around). 

Now, I don’t want to sound unreasonable, as I KNOW he is living with her and I KNOW that some interaction is unavoidable, as I have been there myself with my own special version of “The Estranged,” but in my opinion, there are two problems with the situation… 

ONE: he lied to me about one hanging-out incident… he says he didn’t, but I am not stupid and I am capable of reading people, particularly when all I have to go off of are words and subtle reactions to things said. He was planning to go to a gig that I was fairly certain Origami was going to be attending as well (as she is a big fan of the band that was playing, likes to drink (and the gig’s general location was IN a drinking establishment) and likes to make things awkward)… I found it difficult to believe that he would be attending on his own so I quizzed him on who his musical companion would be to have him respond with a performance of this very strange monologue that involved a lot of pauses and “erm”s and “uhhh”s before saying he was going alone. It wasn’t until the next day that he told me that she “was going anyway and it was silly to waste the gas taking separate cars.” (Which, again, I completely understand, but don’t bloody lie to me.). I then proceeded to become aware of a photo on the Book of Face that featured him eating a giant burger at a restaurant… the photo was not dissimilar to one that was taken by a different female three years ago at a restaurant in Cheyenne… it’s existence caused me to hark back to THOSE fabulous memories for a short while, which was nice. It came to light soon after that Origami had taken that photo and they had gone to dinner together… how quaint. 

TWO: just after Christopher and I split up and Muffin and I started speaking again I would hear on a daily basis how he felt about me spending ANY time with Christopher ever… even if it was something so simple as Christopher coming in and cooking something whilst I was making a cup of tea. Muffin would tell me repeatedly that when he got back to america he would not spend even a single moment with Origami and why did I have to hang out with MY estranged? I don’t like the double standards that seem to have been set into place and when I confronted him with this he rebuttled with, “Yeah, but you still hang out with Chris.” I enquired as to what specific event he was referring to and he said, “Well, you still go to gigs together and stuff.” Right… let me tell you about the gig that I “went to” with Christopher that Muffin is referring to... I was working at the pub on a busy Saturday about two weeks ago. I hung out with Nick in the kitchen all night, looking fabulous and only emerging once to watch one single band. I stood against the hedge in the beer garden with Nick, Dave, Beth and Noele and danced my little heart out, attempting to burn off some of the calories from the three cheeseburgers with onions I had eaten whilst in the kitchen with Nick. I was acutely aware of the existence of my estranged husband to the far side of the garden but paid him no mind. After the final chord of the final song had been played I was making my way back to the kitchen to serve some more ravenous, drunk customers when Christopher cornered me and forced me to participate in a game called “Let’s Have The Most Strained, Uncomfortable Conversation EVER.” I played and feel like perhaps it ended in a draw after our discussions about his work, my leaving, job progression, hair styling, clothes shopping, fish, shoes and bosses. I then pranced back inside with my beautiful hair and tiny apron. And THAT is apparently a night out? Hrm. 

So those are my two reasons for feeling slightly unsettled… unreasonable? I don’t FEEL like they are…  I feel like I shouldn’t allow myself to become a part of some spectacularly hideous double-standard situation that ends up frustrating me until I murder him, because I WILL. I had enough double standards in my last relationship and I will not settle for anything but the best from now on. 

I am attempting to make all aspects of this relationship as perfect as possible… as perfect and as little like the shitstorm I was stuck in with Christopher as possible. 

One of the biggest parallels I am finding in the two relationships is the fact that I am participating in the school of thought where I am pushing goals further and further away. At the moment, I won’t lie, I’m not happy with the way our relationship is going. I feel like I put in a great deal more a lot of the time so as to make sure he has photos and videos and phone calls and emails from me. I make a conscious effort to make sure a new photo of my face reaches him in SOME way every single day so he can see me… feel as close to me as possible. With him, most days I can barely remember what his face looks like. I know it sounds dramatic, but it’s painfully true. I am so busy most days that I just don’t have the time to go onto the Book of Face to peruse his beautiful visage for hours… I don’t have time to search through my emails to find that ONE photo so I can familiarize myself with his face over and over again… It’d just be nice if he put a little more effort in. It just seems to get worse… he said it’d be better when he got back from Iraq and it’s not. He’s about to travel down to California to see Molly  for like two weeks and I will most likely not hear from him at all during that time and when I do they will be those ever-dreaded photos … of him and his daughter. 

I guess I just feel like so many thrilling things have been going on in my life in the last month that he has missed…  tattoos, weight loss, gigs, citizenship, haircolour changes, new clothes… I’ve offered him as many photos and endless stories as he can handle to fill him in, but I can’t help but wonder what things I have missed-out with him. How is he coping with life back in America? What’s he bought since he’s been back? How much weight has he lost? I just don’t know anything and worry that I am travelling to America, 9,000 miles, to live with what is more-or-less a stranger. 

Again, I know that’s a shockingly dramatic statement, but it feels so much like that. Like I just don’t know who he is and I’m just HOPING that when I get to America it’ll be okay… the problem with that is that I did that with Christopher. Prior to moving to England and starting my life with him here things were mildly horrific… we argued a lot and all I did was keep telling myself, morning, noon and night that it was going to be better when I got to England and we didn’t have to be apart anymore. I pinned all my hopes on the arguments stopping the instant I wrapped my tiny arms around his neck and kissed him again, so when this didn’t happen and when the arguments were just more heated because we had one-another’s facial expressions to scrutinize, I pushed the bar again, saying that things would be better once I was out of the house more and I had a steady job… 

again, no. once I got a job I was tired at the end of the day and he wanted sex and I didn’t and we just argued about THAT and why didn’t he do the dishes whilst I was a work all day and where’s the milk he promised he’d go buy? 

THEN my mum died and I said that I would be better once I had settled on medication and in therapy. 

THEN I lost my job and I said it’d be better once I had a permanent job. 

THEN… 

I think you can pretty much see where this is going, can’t you? It never ended and the cycles just resulted in our love’s demise. 

I don’t want the same thing to happen to myself and Muffin. I don’t want to feel like because right now I am saying that things’ll be better when I get there that our relationship will dissipate the same way my last one did… I want to make sure that I don’t fall into that cycle. 

I’m becoming very aware of the fact that I need to make ME happy… at the moment I need to live for things that will better my life and make me feel fulfilled. it depresses the hell out of him, but I am making sure that I remember that I DO have a return ticket booked and if things really do feel awful after I arrive, then I only have a three-month wait before I can return to the land of accents and cups of tea.  

I think for a week I was setting my mind into position of “defeated” before it had even begun though…  preparing myself for coming back on my return flight and wondering why I was even bothering going in the first place. I had played-out a scenario in my head that saw me stay here and live the fabulous single life for a while… being promiscuous, decadent and some other adjective I can’t even think of at the moment. For a week I had seriously considered calling it all off, so terrified of the possibility of it not working that I didn’t even want to bother because we would both just end up getting hurt anyways. I had lost the will to get excited when I heard his voice, forgotten how to say “I love you” and not sound bored… 

Anyways, back to Wednesday…  the day happened; I finished the workday and then the work week, which was an extra-special shade of short due to a tattoo session having been booked on Friday. Friday evening I talked at length with Graham about all of the above. He was the second person to have heard the entire story (the first being janey, doi). We talked it through whilst nursing pints of booze and he really helped me to clear my head. Post-serious-chat we discussed bands and lyrics and committed ourselves to a moviedate this Wednesday (“Inception” for danie again! yay!) and to make mega-mixes for one another (one of my favourite things to do like, EVER!). 

Since then, over the weekend, I am finding the weight noticeably lifted… I have been focusing on the more positive things… realizing that I shouldn’t expect things from my relationship, but rather be grateful for the things that I get…. The emails, photos, videos, phone calls. Despite their rarity, they are such beautiful little sparkly parts of my day... or maybe that’s because of their rarity? I love Muffin and really, honestly want to give this a go so I can see what kind of a perfect thing we can create together… some sort of magical super-couple that has seen ten years pass with every possible obstacle in their way but with love persevering at full speed.

t-t-t-t-tuesday!

I’m not in a massive hearting mood today… I’ve cast my gaze over my list for the last two weeks and am fairly pleased with the outcome and content. I shall do blurbs for some, but I think the list stands for itself…
Happy hearting!

When people ask me about my tattoos
Movie cuddles… with anyone… I LOVE watching films snuggled under a duvet with Janey or with Pow’s legs sprawled across my lap. It’s a time when I can really relax and enjoy myself.
Lying on the sofa, watching a film and eating ice cream with Pow
Interesting postage stamps
Liam Sharp’s face
Pork pies… literally, I have the biggest crush EVER on pork pies at the moment. Last week, there were two days where I ate nothing BUT pork pies. I’ve not delved beyond the realm of the cheap and quick ones from Sainsbury’s and Tesco’s, but I will and it WILL be good.
The way Pow, Janey and Nick make fun of my aversion to skirts that fall above the knees… yeah, so I am a prude. I HATE it when girls wear skirts that fall above the knees. I pretty much seem to have had my below-the-waist fashion sense born in the 1950’s (I say “below-the-waist” because I LOVE having my knockers out!). Anyways… because of this tiny problem I have, I am mocked mercilessly by my three favourites for being a prude and was the victim of being photographed and fake-vomited on by Nick because I wore a skirt a couple of weeks ago that fell JUST above my knees. I love my friends.
Trenches
Old war photographs
The hands of old people
Interesting names
Menthol fags
History
Flocked wallpaper
People with kind eyes
My blue flowery dress… the best $5 I ever spent in my entire life. Thank you Target!
Busy days at work
Graham Williams… I had seen photos and videos of him in the past… heard his name mentioned by many of the local film and creative-types, but had never once met him. it wasn’t until about two weeks ago that I came home to find him mincing around the garden with a pair of giant shears that our paths officially crossed. He has a very traditional and dark sense of humour for the location, so I found myself feeling very insecure around him initially, but after a long guitar and talking session around a bonfire about ten days ago we have developed a fairly comfortable and delightful friendship that involves a lot of banter and euphemism. He’s so much fun and outrageously quick-witted… I love spending time with him and can see myself enjoying his company a great deal more prior to my leaving.
Bonfires
Channel 4 documentaries
Hollyoaks... I used to be absolutely obsessed with Hollyoaks prior to the split with Chris… you could hardly tear me away from the telly between 1900 and 1930, but for some reason, the DAY Chris and I split up I just stopped watching it. I flicked it on one lazy afternoon two weeks ago for the first time in ten months and was alarmed to find EVERYONE lived in different houses, had different dramas and had grown up a shocking amount. I LOVE Hollyoaks and I am completely hooked again despite the general confusion to a lot of the plotline. I must get in as much of this teen soap-opera as humanly possible! GAH!
My drawings
My black M & S high heels
Handwriting
Baths with lots of bubbles
When my legs are freshly-shaved
My signature
The fact that I am a dual-citizen… yeah, stick THAT in your pipe and smoke it! danie’s got TWO nationalities and she’s BLOODY pumped about it!
Striking facial features
Ham and pineapple pizza
Australian accents
Very reflective aviators
When my boss is in a good mood
The news
Gay couples
Good teeth
Feeling certain of things
When my heart feels heavy with affection
New, interesting smells… oh my LORD! Right, so I have an obsession with smelling things. It’s one of the facts about me that Pow loves announcing to people. I love smelling new books, freshly-washed clothes and people… my favourite new smell of the week: Graham. He has a very interesting smell… usually people have smells that are familiar and similar, but Graham seems to be the owner of a fabulous combination of boy, detergent and deodorant. It’s really pleasant and makes me happy. favourite OTHER smell of the week: janey. She smells so fabulous and I had forgotten… I’d forgotten how much I love her perfume and how I love the way her smell rubs off onto me when she hugs me. I love janeyface so much.
Curly fries
Birds
Classical music
Quavers
Assembly lines
Feeling like I am a part of something
Bricks
Boys in glasses
Boys with hairy chests
My cat tattoo
Jelly Babies
Leggings
Pretty villages
Blonde-Pow
Orchids
Old suitcases
Euphemisms
Brooches
Pin-stripes
Hands
Finches
Feeling someone else’s body heat… GOD I am a tactile person, I always have been… when I hand someone something I always make sure I make even a slight amount of contact, just so they know I’m there and comfortable enough with them to be that slight bit intimate… my being tactile reaches to the need to be in some sort of contact with someone as often as possible… when Pow and I are sat watching telly, I will make sure that even something as simple as the tip of my toe is touching his leg… it offers me a very wonderful sense of comfort… just to feel and know that someone is there, it’s nice.
Old videos from wars
Pretty eyes
Lobsters
Wigs
Excellent moustaches
Vintage teddy bears
Creepy vintage toys
Volkswagen Beetles
My hourglass tattoo
My job
Typewriters
TINY dogs
Fried eggs
Ladders
Potatoes
Boiled carrots
Really friendly old people
Imagining what it would be like to be 95… Graham and I were discussing this last night… how many memories you would have at that age… it’s amazing to imagine all the things you would have seen and done in that time.
The smell of boiling pasta