Bugger

Fucked up another perfectly good relationship. Arse. And maybe feck. I shall probably die alone. Or I might have a goldfish.

V

I have just come back from seeing V for Vendetta - shock news! It's actually not that bad - in fact, it's pretty bloody good considering that Alan Moore hated it. Now with 'From hell' and indeed 'The league of extraordinary gentlemen' I can see where he was coming from but this one was really good. Bit simplistic in some places, true, but they got the proper message across and in my opinion didn't Hollywoodise it anywhere near as much as you'd think.
So - weirdly - I recommend it.

In other news - am back at work full time (hence the not posting very much) and am slowly, oh so very slowly getting better. Very slowly. I'm not worse though so all is good. I also went to London and purchased (oh the surprise) some shoes. Like this but with little bows and no stamped detail.



I also bought a tutu. As you do.

Don't rake up my mistakes...*

Ah, I know. So much for a proper blog. But then, I wasn't meant to be writing for actual people (hello if there are any here) it so it doesn't really matter that I think I've driven away those poor people trying to read anything on here. The reason for this blog was to record my illness, which I have failed dramatically in. This was much easier when I used to write stuff in a little book about what I'd eaten. Anyway, I do have to impart that, oddly, vitamins and a good variety of fresh fruit and vegetables have made me feel better. That and some sex. It is SUCH a relief to feel a bit better. You know that feeling you have when your flu has finally lifted and you feel like you can finally breathe again? Like that, but X erm... a lot. I'm looking forward to planning to go out and then keeping to it. Downside - now I'm aware enough to notice the size of my bottom. Every time I get ill, I put on weight. No activity does indeed = extra poundage. Plus the excessive fresh stuff seems to have resulted in a swollen tummy (why? Oh, why?). No dieting for me either until I'm actually back to work full time - currently I'm at 6 hours but pushing to 7 hours sometimes.
I am meant to be going out on thursday and it looks like I may make it - but what to wear? This sudden realisation of fatness (plus most of my clothes being a little too snug) makes it difficult. I'm trying to hold off on panic buying of unattractive but bulky and therefore potentially fat-hiding skirt in Bay Trading. Even if it is a fiver. Even if it is slightly shiny. Help me!

*The author bears no responsibility for punctuation or spelling. I'm ill *coughs pathetically*.

Shaky machines

Grrr. It's my day off and I was woken up at 8. This is all wrong! Then I couldn't go back to sleep because I have ANOTHER cough, plus there was some kind of shaky machine outside that kept shaking my room and making things rattle (up to and including my teeth). I find that kind of thing disconcerting and not condusive to rest.

When I was very small I had a long and complicated dream which was mainly about how a JCB digger had somehow hypnotised the population and started eating them. Everyone was queuing up to be put into the digger bit. It was wrong. Always been ever-so-slightly scared of large yellow things ever since.

Another thing learnt from my dream - look out for toyboxes - they may contain octopuses who would like to trip you up. Not sure what the cartoon bus full of sikhs was about though.

I'm going out, I may be some time... wait, I should have said that earlier. It was cold out so I'm back.

Oh dear lord, what is it, a month? Bad blogger, naughty. In my defence, I caught a rotten cold before christmas then various other things and have only just started to recover. That is my story and I'm sticking to it.

There will (if I remember) be humourous pictures of odd christmas trees and tales of debauchery though they're so old now maybe I won't bother. Summing up, I got various shiny things for christmas, I was lovely to bfriend's family earning myself oodles of brownie points, I did think about detoxing but decided to have some cake instead and that's... about it. Oh, I went out on new year's eve and actually had a good time. I'm still looking around in case this is an alternate universe.

Stick with me. I fully intend to start posting pictures of shoes and suchlike any minute now. Honest. If I can find any batteries for my camera anyhow.

Look, any minute, told you - see, Essex villages have a long tradition of christmas trees decorated with action men fighting dinosaurs and wearing pink tutus.

Better again... spooky

Hmm, sorry about yesterday. *Clears throat*.
Anyway - I'm feeling better again today! So this must be a Good Thing. Not a good thing as in Diana Wynne Jones' story 'What the cat told me'* because that would be silly. Still, a good thing. Now I get to go out and have curry and say bye to people and go to my goth night so I imagine tomorrow I shall feel v v shitty. So I wanted to commemorate my wellness** in some way that I'd remember.

* I sort-of forget what the good thing was, no, wait, I think it was a piece of soul which did magic. So not all that likely sadly.

** Wellness being a general term which includes actually feeling quite rubbish, just less rubbish than before.

Work yet again - this may be getting to be a habit

Well today at work I set up for the lovely christmas open evening. Any swearword of your choice can be inserted right here. But I'm at home and everyone else is still there so - result! I shall be missing out on - um... I'm sure there was something... perhaps not.
Less tired again today, a good thing surely. Beginning to feel that I went back to work too early though - it was a stupid, stupid time to come back to work. I'm always most ill before christmas - it's that weird woman thing of stressing about having exactly everything just perfect or everyone'll have a miserable christmas. Why? What is the point? Lots of presents and some chocolate and no-one cares. No-one is coming over anyway from the looks of things.

Update -
Ooh, feeling like a bit of a rant and as this is what this is here for - argh. Just - argh. ridiculous - I can't articulate my feelings at all. Not when they're like this. It's the kind of feeling that's strong enough that you think - oh, I must write a song / create something because it's so powerful but actually its too strong so you end up with a load of drivel. It's soo hard. I just don't see why there's always something wrong. Ok, I want too many shiny things and so on but really I'm satisfied with not a lot. There's always something though to mess it up. Always. How often can I go on to people about how hard my illness is? I just can't do it. It's ridiculous, I bore myself, let alone anyone else. But I get stupid comments like this idiot woman at work saying how glad she is that I'm back, and back as the old belladona, the nice one, who didn't fly off the handle and be mean to her all the time because I was ill. Seriously, I could easily have really said something rude to her. But I didn't, I never do. But how insensitive is she? Bringing it up again and again - now I'm not saying I'm a saint at all, but I cannot have been that bad or I would have been sacked. Just because I once or twice told her what I actually thought instead of lying to spare her feeling, I am apparently a total nightmare. When I think of how some people behave with no excuse at all and yet get away with it, while I have to listen to her - it doesn't seem that fair, that's all.