Until quite recently, I used to occasionally tag a blog post with "thoughts." These posts covered a variety of topics, including feeling sorry for myself, amateur philosophy, half-baked theology, and general silliness. It seems I haven't had a thought in two months.
That's quite shocking, really. Explains why I'm overwhelmed by feelings though.
I've been hideously emotional for the past couple of months, and i'd quite like to reclaim some sanity, clarity, and self-awareness. Please.
So, dear readers, tell me one thing about me. I'd like to know if the me you know is the same as the me I know. Or something.
Friday, 30 May 2008
Wednesday, 28 May 2008
I could, admittedly, have updated my blog a bit more frequently lately. I'm sorry. I have to make a definite effort to break out of the mentality that Cardiff = holiday. But instead of telling you all what I've been up to (I'll leave that for when I'm back in Plymouth), I thought I'd tell you what my previous first dates have been like.
In one word?
I don't have an awful lot of experience with dating, as I'm sure you're aware, but I have been mercilessly tricked into two dates, admittedly through some carelessness on my part, and the annoying thing is that they both sucked.
The first was with a friend; he'd arranged for a bunch of us to go to the cinema together to see troy, or so I thought. It turned out it was just the two of us, and he insisted on paying, and since he'd decided to get 'deluxe' tickets I reluctantly let him. Now, as a first date with somebody you're not actually interested in, the cinema is pretty good. You don't - in fact, can't - make conversation, but if you're interested enough to hang around for coffee afterwards there's an obvious topic for conversation. This date was a disaster, and to this day I've never seen the last half-hour of that film.
The second first date was in a similar vein. I met a guy at a party and gave him my number (never done that before, most likely never will again. I'm not adventurous in that respect). He worked at the cinema and got me in for free, although I can't recall what we saw. It was ok, and I could talk to him, but there was no real interest, so I took evasive action. I asked if he wanted to meet me again at Soul Cafe (i.e. with other people around and plenty of things to do rather than talk). He did, he came, he got talking to a friend of mine, she got baptised as a Mormon in his church and they're getting married. So, y'know, that was a win.
My third was an altogether more positive experience. I was already most definitely interested in the man in question and he was almost certainly interested in me - a given for most dates, perhaps, but not from my experience as you've seen! Again it was sort of accidental. It was a spontaneous decision.
Basically, we'd gone to a hip-hop festival. There were some amazing breakdancers, but you can only watch that for so long before you start getting bored, and it was one of about three beautifully sunny days that summer, so we went outside and hung around the park. We ended up lying down and hugging in the sunshine, and walking across stepping stones to go around the inside of a water fountain that was throwing up rainbows into the air. We went back into the venue to watch some MC-ing, but then, again, we got fed up with watching grown men cuss out each other's clothing and calling each other gay. So we went to get some food, which sort of became a date, except I wasn't really sure if it was a date. But it was. I think.
We went into a noodle bar and sat down opposite each other, which suited me fine as I got to look into his eyes. Blue. They hit me like a train when he took off his glasses, and I'm pretty sure I went pinker every time he looked at me. The only reason I remember the food at all is because I had so much trouble with it! I'd never used chopsticks before, and surely they're not the best implement for eating soup with anyway?, but he showed me how to use them and I clumsily got as much of the chicken down me as I could. I couldn't finish it. In fact I don't think I finished a meal with him for the first few months, my appetite and my nerves being what they were.
It was unlike any previous date I'd had in that a) I wanted to be there, and b) there was a second date!
Here's a picture from that day...
I never wrote about it because it was quickly eclipsed by drama and confusion, but that day, along with many others with him, still stays bright and shiny throughout a year of greys and rain.
Monday, 19 May 2008
This is my first straight-from-flickr blog post; I thought I'd give it a test run and see what I thought. This is a photo I took at a friend's house in Cardiff of some fairy lights; the camera gave them a shine that they certainly didn't have in real life! I love the effect.
There are plenty more - and loads of graffiti pics (as always!) to be found on my Flickr page (link on the left).
Thursday, 15 May 2008
In my defence, it could have happened to anyone.
I was in Gav's apartment doing some housework when there was a knock on the window. A knock on the window means one thing: that Gav's home; so I went bounding outside all excited to help him with his bike, and to show him the skimpy bikini and miniskirt that I'd bought that morning. I forgot to put the latch on, but that's ok, because he has the keys.
It wasn't him.
It was his landlady.
I haven't told you much about the landlady, but she's an interesting character. She's been known to come into the apartment with no warning, complain about the bicycle, and ask him if he's got a girlfriend to clean for him, and if he could get her to come round more often. I was in the bedroom on the computer at the time, ready with a "Hi!" and a cheery wave when she poked her nose around the door. That was bad enough. This was quickly to become far, far worse.
I let her in, embarrassed by the situation already, and believe me it got a LOT worse! She made polite conversation for a bit, talked about the paint that had been chipped off the banister by Gav's bike, and then the crashing realisation came that I was outside a locked apartment with no keys, phone, shoes, or dignity.
I had to mention this to her in the hope that she'd have her keys. She always brings her keys with her, she said, except for this once, what a terrible coincidence, and she'd forgotten to bring her phone, and oh dear, when was Gav going to be back?
It was quarter to 7 at the time, and he was going to be home any time between half 7 and 8, so I told her that I'd happily wait in the hallway, that I'd be absolutely fine to wait, no really I would. She wouldn't hear of it. "That could be over an hour! Oh no, we can't have that. I'll have to go back to Newport to get them, and you'll have to come with me."
I was very very worried. If Gav came home to find the lights and radio on but me vanished without a trace, what would he think? So I insisted that I should stay put. "Leave him a note", she said, and I gave her a look of desperation that conveyed the message 'this miniskirt does not conceal a stationery set', so she passed me an envelope and a pen. and told me to write that I've gone to Newport with Mrs ********. This I obligingly did, and tucked it in the doorframe over the keyhole so that he'd definitely see it.
I left the corridor and closed the front door behind me, thinking 'well, it's too late to go back now', and padded barefoot to her car. I sat with my arms crossed casually across my chest while we made polite conversation about Venice; and how girls should be taught to cook and clean at school; and how one of her tenants was a lovely lady, a professor, intelligence runs in the genes of that family, but she was going to marry a woman. Well, I mean honestly, have you ever heard the like. And so on.
So there I was in my bikini. Desperately trying to appear respectable and respectful, and no doubt failing miserably. Telling her about university, answering her questions about whether Gavin and I were serious (we are. As you must know by now.)
Anyway eventually the cruel and unusual torture ended; we got back to Cardiff and back to the building, and she unlocked the door for me, complaining that the coffee waiting for her upstairs was no doubt stewed by now, because she made real coffee of course...
So I went inside
And I sat down
And I giggled and roffled to my little heart's content.
I mean, yes it was humiliating, but you have to laugh or you'd just die of shame! Instead, it has to be a little victory, an example of overcoming overwhelming something-or-other and coming out stronger (and much amused) the other side.
That evening, Gavin and I went to Jenni's house to watch The Apprentice with a few friends. He started a couple of conversations with "Guess what Anna did today", but bless his heart, he was more shocked than angry. Thanks goodness he tolerates my extreme sillies!
I won't make that mistake again. I'm thinking of having a tongue piercing that I could put the keyring through.
Interesting thing of the day: animals on the underground! (Remember, all past ITOTDs are available in a list to the left.)
Wednesday, 7 May 2008
Six days ago, I finished my essay a day early and came to Cardiff.
Five days ago, I had more social action than in nine months of living in Plymouth.
Four days ago, I climbed half a mountain and slid around giggling in the back of a van.
Three days ago, I saw Iron Man at the cinema (GO SEE IT, seriously, it's amazing), played balance games on a wii (I was pretty good, considering!) and had a kitty on my lap.
Two days ago, we had a lush and lazy bank holiday monday and didn't get up to anything very much.
One day ago, I stayed in and did houseworky type things while G went to work (by way of apology for recently accusing him of oppressing me). Then we enjoyed the last of the sunshine in a pub garden with some friends and went back to Tom's for a fantastic meal (mmm pie).
So, so far I've seen more wonderful people, had more fun, and drunk a lot more red wine than I would otherwise have done, and I'm kind of dreading the inevitable return to a harsh reality.