Thursday, 30 October 2008

5 Weddings and a Funeral

Alternative Title: I am a Secondary Character in Other People's Teen Dramas

Hmmm... job hunting... well now... that seems to have taken a bit of a back seat over the last couple of weeks... that Warlock won't level itself and the expansion is coming out soon meaning I will have Death Knight buddies to play my priorities are a little altered...also it seems to be stemming the flow of work related dementia...and in the current economic climate it seems that employment is becoming harder to find for those that really need it... so perhaps I should just shut the fuck up whinging and be grateful for what I've got... there are people in much worse situations than me.

If I'm really honest, while I do hate my job and it does make me quite horrifically depressed, I think that my sudden need to re-train/find alternative employment / commit Seppuku has stemmed (this time around at least) from the fact that for the last few months I have been a secondary character in other people's teen dramas - the comedy sidekick at best, girl number 4 at worst. Clearly I needed drama in my own life.

Don't get me wrong I am still actively seeking a way out of this hell hole in to something more suited to my talents... I'm just being slightly less disheartened when it is not forthecoming...

Of course if any of the 3 people that actually read this blog know of any jobs going then please feel free to pass it on... however since at least 2 of those people are highly qualified engineering types then I feel my transferrable skills may leave a bit of a short fall...especially since my awesome plan to save the world using an eleborate combination of helicopters and giant sponges was thoroughly trashed last night with the subtle use of science (damn you and your unGodly ways, Matt)... I feel a job in the field of engineering may not bear fruit!

Anyway... the title of this episode "5 Weddings and a Funeral" comes from my expereinces this year where I have... believe it or not... been to 5 weddings and a funeral... stick that up your foppish chuffer Hugh Grant!

The first was a handfasting ceremony, that I conducted, for 2 friends of mine... it was a small, intimate affair and really rather lovely... there was then a civil ceremony and lots of food and drinking... also lovely.

The second was my wedding... also a handfasting ceremony out in the woods... which was amazing, and while I didn't conduct the service itself, I was somewhat involved in the whole planning and instigating of said event...there was then lots of food and drinking... also lovely.

The third was my Auntie's wedding... which was heavy on the food and booze, however did involve spending time with some of the more unsavoury of my family members and all the emotional trauma that ensued... however the abundance of food and inordinant amount of alcohol did go someway to ease the pain!

The fourth was another ceremony run by me, not a handfasting this time but a much more secular, garden party sort of an affair... with food and drinking... also lovely.

The fifth and final one was last weekend. I was not involved in the planning, running, emotional turmoil or general organisation of any of it... my job was simply to eat food and get drunk and have my breasts toasted by the groom in his speech...all of which I carried off with my usual level of decorum and grace... it was brilliant!

This wedding was made all the better by a very good friend of mine getting thoroughly shit faced and spending a good half an hour preaching to a mutual friend of mine and the curly one about how I was - and I quote "a whole big world of sexy," which of course he got thoroughly embarrassed about and was only made worse when she went on to quiz him about whether, were I single, he might be interested in a torrid affair with me... he replied in a very sensible and sober manner that, my husband is a good friend of his, I am a good friend of his and he did not feel comfortable answering her probing questions... he then made his escape by promising to buy her more alcohol... which she duly drank and then proceeded to procure more booze from various other unsuspecting members of the party. I believe she was trying, in her misguided and alcohol fueled way to raise my self esteem by proving to me that other men still find me attractive, despite my marital condition; what she succeeded in doing was embarrassing some people and giving me a life time supply of ammunition with which to return the embarrassment, should I so choose! I love this girl...she makes me so proud... she is a brilliant mother, a very talented and witty young lady, works her fingers to the bone to provide for her family, is one of the best friends a girl could ask for and still finds the time to get so thoroughly bolloxed at these events that she falls over on the dance floor and leaves her shoes behind when she gets forced into a taxi home... she is who I want to be when I grow up!

Amidst these marital shenanigans I have also conducted a naming ceremony for a friend's daughter, set up my website advertising my services as a tarot reader and been a party to the hectic and at times horrific lives of my friends and family.

These people are giving birth, dying, having relatives pass away, getting divorced, filing for bankruptcy, leaving the country to escape their lives, splitting up with long term partners, falling out with other friends, being made homeless, being made redundant, coping with mental illness... and all are coming to me for support.

Now please don't misunderstand... if you are one of these people and you happen to have stumbled across this blog, I love that you come to me with your problems, as your friend or family member, it is an honour and a pleasure to be thought of so highly that you entrust me with your life crises (however since I am now blogging about them perhaps you should reconsider the trust you put in me!) The problem I think I am having is that for the first time in my life ever, I do not have a major life crisis occurring... I am pretty sorted really... ok I hate my job and money is rubbishy... but I am emotionally stable, I have a roof over my head, a secure job, a husband who feels about me the way I feel about him and as long as I don't think about the future or my dwindling prospects too much, things really aren't that bad.

This is an unusual state of affairs. Granted, I have always been the one people come to with their problems... I seem to attract the emotionally unstable, and if my friends are not telling me about their latest problem at great length and in greater detail, I ask about it... because I care... because I firmly believe that sharing a problem makes it easier to cope with... because I love my friends and I want to see them happy... and because I am a nosey cow who likes to know other people's business! The last few months have been unusual because almost everyone I know is going through some kind of emotional crisis but I am not... I am used to avoiding my problems by involving myself in the problems of others... only this time there have been lots of problems and none of them are mine...

The earth is in a state of flux, energies that used to come in slowly are now bombarding us at great speed and we are all struggling to cope with this shift (yes I know it sounds like hippie bollocks but it's true... FACT) So tragedy is occurring in the lives of those I love but not in mine... for a change.... The worrying thing of course is that when the earth settles again in a couple of years and everything goes back to normal, my friends and family will not have to suffer any more... and I will have to go back to being the emotional train wreck you all know and love... fucking brilliant.... I will look forward to that then!

Tuesday, 14 October 2008

I Was A Teenage Rock God (dess)

Alternative Title: Recapturing my mis-spent youth

So the job hunting is not going well.

Not well at all.

So far I have not managed to even get to the interview stage of a low level IT job that I'm not really sure I wanted anyway. I have had not heard anything back from a prestigeous publishing company about a staff writing job that I had no business applying for in the first place. The social care and psych jobs fall into categories of not enough pro rata hours to make up the necessary rent money or wanting me to have vastly more experience or qualifications than I have. The PhD route wants me to have been less of a nut job at Uni the first time round and have achieved a better first degree in order to take my 10 grand of course fees....

Yes, that's 10,000 whole English Pounds, not Rupees, not Quatloons but Pounds.... and that's before reasearch fees ... so yeah... my application to a local university is a bit pie in the sky...even if my research proposal would be the awesomest thing to hit the world of academia since some guy in Switzerland decided that he had a penchant for making giant, swirly, clanky, potentially world destroyingly awesome machines!

So early onset dementia seems imminent ...

I have developed a nice little nightly drinking habit (thanks for the advice, Ben). I have been smoking like a cancer riddled industrial chimney in a factory that makes overly aggressive, '80s hair metal style smoke machines (much to the vehement and self righteous bemoaning of my reformed smoker husband {bastard!}) I have been in a thoroughly foul and depressive mood for some time.... in fact I think I should apologise to Cathryn... who has to sit opposite me on a daily basis and look at my increasingly sour face... sorry honey!

I have been trying to make myself feel better (read: wallow in my misery) by listening to the music that made me "really get in touch with my feelings" as a teenager (I was a pretentious little fuck wit). Nevertheless I still fucking love this shit... only now, I enjoy it on a different level... Kim Thayil is not playing 'just for me,' Kurt Cobain does not 'really understand my feelings' and Skin doesn't even know who I am... however these people still rock my fucking world. My entire musical intake of late has consisted entirely of Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, Smashing Pumpkins, Nirvana, Drain and Skunk Anansie (in fact I am listening to Skin's dulcit tones as I write).

I do of course have a nostalgic love for these bands...but that does not in any way detract from their ultimate coolness. While Chris Cornell may have gone on to do some less than Rock worthy solo stuff, Skin may have dropped off my radar all together, the entirety of Alice in Chains may have lost themselves to fickle Gods of Skag (no Matt, not the virtual pixelated, Blizzard generated kind but the nasty intravenous stuff) Zach De La Roche may have disappeared up his own arse in a puff of pretentious hyperbole and Kurt Cobain...well the less said about that the better... some of those boys are still fighting the good fight.

Dave Grohl, Serj Tanken and Josh Homme make me proud to like their music... still... to this day... my Grungey Rock Chick core must be satiated and even Billy Corgan's movie anthems do it for me now.... God I miss the '90s!

The point to this (yes, there is one) is that in my crazed and desperate state I think I am reverting to teenagery... aw Hell, puberty was such a laugh riot the first time why not hop on the big red fun bus and take a return journey to down town insanity ville.?!?!

I am depressed, developing a drinking problem, smoking when it is frowned upon, listening to aggressive music, have absolutely no direction in life, no idea what I'm doing here and seemingly no capacity for rational thought.... yep, anytime now I'll start crying uncontrollably for no discernable reason and slamming doors...

Does anyone else feel like this or are you all perfectly settled, purpose driven grown ups with a proper handle on this horrific hell ride we call life?

So right now, I am listening to Skunk Anansie and blogging simultaneously about my shit life....I have not only reverted to being a seems that as a 21st century teenager, I am no longer a Grunger... I have become an Emo...*gasp, shock, horror*... I am so unbearably ashamed... may be I should have just called this post "Euthenasia is a Viable Option."


Friday, 10 October 2008

Sweet Baby Jesus, Save Me From This Hell Hole

Alternative Title: I Need A New Job

I have been working in my current job for about 3 1/2 years... it's easy... I spend my days with greasy mechanics and panel beaters and being one of only two women in the entire company it's pretty much a nice little ego stroke every time I come to work... I am happy with the sexual innuendo, the occassional slap on the arse and the continuous stream of banter.... sometimes it's lots of fun.


Most of the time it is a giant, fly infested, sting your eyes from the smell, steaming pile of human excrement.

I get shit from the customers about issues that have absolutely nothing to do with me. I get shit from the management about issues that have absolutely nothing to do with me. Basically I just get shit all day... about things I have no control over.

I am the lowly office girl for fuck sake... I have no control over what goes on in the workshops - I never touch the bloody cars. If your estimate has a spelling mistake in it then fine, have a go at me, that would be my fault, I typed it... I should learn to spell... fine. If your engine falls out of your 40 year old car because you are too stupid to buy a proper car that isn't shit then don't bring your baggage to my door step... it's nothing to do with me... idiot!

If the managing director is not doing his job properly because he is an incompetent moron, it is not my responsibilty to 'manage' him. He is the MD ... I am the lowly office schmuck who is only doing this job because she needs to pay the rent. It is not my shit to deal with.


So in my infinite wisdom and in a vague attempt to ward of early onset senile dementia, I have decided to start looking for a proper job.

I am fairly well educated. I have a Psychology degree, I have various vocational qualifications in counselling and the like and I have spent years volunteering for a kids charity looking after their mental health, educational welfare and sexual wellbeing... yet apparently I am not qualified or experienced enough to do anything.... or at least anything that involves me using my brain in anyway at all.

I would love to write, I would love to get my PhD with research into the beneficial therapeutic effects of roleplaying and gaming based on Jung's work on the shadow self (so controversial yet so en vogue!). I would love to work with terminally ill kids and their familes (yes I know I'm the giving type) I would love to do anything that does not involve me having to scoop the gooey mess off the floor that has dribbled out of my ear from the years of doing shit jobs that turn my brain to mush just to make sure that I have a tiny flat to go back to at the end of each day and can be kept in cut price beans on toast.

This is not how I imagined my life would be after I graduated.

I had imagined a career, an important role in society, a home with more than 1 bedroom.

Now I know I should just suck it up and get on with it... lots of people have jobs they hate that they work at just to provide for their families and find joy in other aspects of their lives. However, these people are not me.

I have become so obsessed with my loathing for my current role that I am finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on the things that bring me joy outside of my profession. This fucking hell hole is spoiling my love of super hero comics and is infringing on my 'special time' with my man is ruining my chances to watch good movies... it is a crime against nature... it is causing an imbalance in the force.... when a geek cannot get her geek on because every time she goes to her tailoring trainer she is thinking "I could be using this time to look for a good job" or when she cannot stay in "the mood" because she is thinking that she has to get at least 8 hours sleep in order to be able to cope with the day ahead... then clearly something must be done!

I'm proposing some kind of military coup to take down the company. If there is no company, there are no moronic customers, there are no incompotent managers, there is no hellish job. I can spend my time more productively. Looking for a proper job. Or reading more comics. Or getting my game on.

Yes, clearly this is the sensible way forward... I see it now....

Sunday, 5 October 2008

The Love of My Life

Alternative title: I love my husband but he does my fucking nut in

My Husband is a very talented artist... he is also a complete and total fuck tard!

He lacks the confidence and motivation to push himself out into the world. He cannot see that his work is brilliant.

Even after spending hours criticising (and not in the nice, productive way) the work of many fantasy and comic book artist, he still refuses to offer up any of his own work for criticism or for the making of cashy money.... why?... because he is an idiot.... whose sole purpose in life seems to be the perpetuation of my exasperation with him.

How in the hell am I supposed to live my life vicariously through my talented husband if he is unwilling to realise the potential of his talent?

This last week we have been fighting a little more than usual. Now don't get me wrong, we enjoy a good fight, in fact it is almost entirely impossible for us to be nice to each other in public. We are not 'public displays of affection' types - we say 'I love you' by insulting the other one's mother.

In private however this is a little different... except this week. I am stroppy and he is overly sensitive. Usually he is the stroppy, anger driven one... sometimes I wonder whether his skin has an odd shade of green about it...and his occassional warnings of "you won't like me when I'm angry" are quite startlingly accurate. So the fact that our roles seem to have reversed this week clearly shows that all is not right in the world.

So as intended I am using this forum as a source of free marital therapy... also as a base to share some of his art work with you...since he's too much of a big jesse to do it himself. I'm a fan of the proactive approach.

I would like to think that our marriage will last forever, that our dreams will become shared dreams that become realised, that our children will be perfectly behaved little angels who go on to be terribly successful in their chosen fields and that we will die together, safe in the knowledge that our lives have been lead in the pursuit of our goals and in love and in happiness.... and I hope for all of this because I am still a hopeless romantic, despite my cynicism, I still believe that your dreams are still worth striving for, that your talents are gifts that should not be wasted and that however hard life is, obstacles are there to be overcome and if everyone who sees your art work tells you that it is brilliant then that is probably because it is TRUE!!!!!... and that if your wife tells you to pull your fucking finger out and work out just how wonderful you are then you had better start believing her and doing as she says before she is forced to take drastic and violent measures!

Now rant over. Please enjoy some more of the artistic stylings of the one man I love without question, the giant curly ass hat, I like to call Bob.

Thursday, 2 October 2008

14 Women in Bikinis Drinking Champagne in a Hot tub

Alternative Title: What the Hell is wrong with Women?

I don't have a great number of female friends.

As a general rule I prefer the company of men.

I find them less loathesome and easier to get along with.

They don't take offence when I say 'Cunt.' They find it endearing.

They can have fine intellectual debates with me about such pivotal issues as whether Spiderman or Batman would win in a fight and whether Michael Bay should be forgiven for Armageddon based purely on the childish joy that was Transformers.

Women can't do that. (mostly)

So when I do have a female friend, they are very very special to me and I will do almost anything for them, I value their friendship that much.

However, this weekend I went above and beyond the call of duty (no not the game, damn it!)

I spent the entire weekend the wrong side of the Severn Bridge, in a cottage in the back end of nowhere, with 13 drunk, skimpily clad women in a hot tub on a hen weekend.

Honestly it was a wonder no one was murdered. Few of the girls even understood that their lives were in danger from any number of fictional psycho killers... bloody women.

Even I got sucked in eventually and ended up in my bikini in a hot tub... glass of champagne in hand and cigarette in mouth.

I spent the weekend feeling like Jud Nelson in a room full of Molly Ringwalds.

Only without the sexual tension.

Sometimes I wish I was a man.

Those girls were so hot.

And if I was a man, at no point would I be expected to talk for hours about what 'Brangelina' are up to with their army of children (clearly they are going to invade some small African province and live as war lords). I would not be expected to get excited about Jimmy Choo Shoes or even know who the fuck he is. I would not be expected to talk about how I did my hair like that or how I keep my nails and skin looking so healthy (I eat babies by the way... 2-3 weeks old... that's my beauty tip for you ladies). And whilst being excited about such things I would not be expected to communicate in a pitch designed only for titilating dolphins, making bats crash in to things and upsetting the local canine community.

No, if I was a man I would be expected to be grumpy. And drunk. And swear . And talk about how cool Bruce Willis is. And get just a little bit excited about so many pretty ladies in bikinis.

God I wish I was a man sometimes.

All that said though, I did actually have a good time and met some pretty amazing ladies, all of whom were willing to dress up like muppets and go out in public because we told them to!...Excellent behaviour ladies, well done!

An absence of colour does not an Emo make

After much musing (read: a brief conversation about the lovely Mr Ben's blog with our mutual friend, Terribly Efficient Matt {also a recent blogger}) I decided to jump on the blogging band wagon in a smokey cloud of self indulgent pretention and radom acts of geekery...

Ok... so this is my first post ... and I have a lot to say.

About nothing.

But you're damn well going to pay attention anyway because you are bored at work, or you are my friend and I cried at you to read my blog to give my life some sense of meaning in the modern age.

Mostly because you are bored at work.

I just wanted to justify my use of the style of page I chose...

It is black...and a little moody... and many of you out there in the ethernet may have come here thinking this was some kind of 'suicide girls' site or a vampire lovers site where I would go on about the pain of eternal living or have lots of pictures of me wearing not a great deal and looking like I am about to eat your soul....

Sorry to disappoint.

I chose black because I thought it looked quite stylish and I still can't get my head around anything more complicated than basic HTML to make my page look any different than the templates they gave me.

So there.

I am not an emo... I am just inept.

Sadly for you dear reader, this page is likely just to cover the neurotic ramblings of a woman in her late 20s who still hasn't acheived a damn thing in her life, save a worthless degree, an unhealthy penchant for all things geeky and unsuitable for nice girls to enjoy and a marriage to a wonderful and talented but mind bogglingly self effacing artist.

Basically it is just self indulgent anger management in an attempt to lessen the burden on my marriage.