Silver linings

Today has been... not great.

It started off badly because I dreamed of my ex with his new lady, which I readily confess is my fault for rereading old emails yesterday. He was describing what he imagined our daughter would look like. I know, why not just stab myself in the face, right? It's like I have no comprehension of consequences.

Then I read Kim Rhodes' most recent blog entry. Let me tell you, I love this lady, and not just for being in Supernatural - she's funny, charming, ludicrously down-to-earth and does not deserve even half the shit that's been thrown her way. I haven't commented on this post. I really am at a loss for words. None of the standard platitudes really seem to apply in this case, but on the off-chance that she ever sees this: Kim, you're an inspiration; write whatever you need to and I'll be reading.

Since then it's been a blur of packing for storage, getting threatening letters and bemusing visits from our landlord. Did I tell you our basement flooded? Probably not, it happened just after the rant about the door went up.

Luckily I've got dozens of little silver linings in my friends, without whom I really would have thrown in the towel by now.

They cheer me up, look out for me, offer me places to stay. They make cups of tea and offer words of wisdom on twitter. They link me to footage of lizards and websites about cats to cheer me up. I also found this gorgeous playlist (Spotify link) by an old friend that has been slowing my heartrate down a little.

So to all my silver linings (and, if you're reading this, chances are you're one): Thank you. I love you.

please excuse me while I kiss this guy

Pissed the hell off. Not everybody likes reading rants, especially not ones that could be construed as gossiping / bitching (though I really really try to stay away from those), so if you're playing it safe just skip ahead to the kitty buffer. ↓↓↓

I've been with my boyfriend for three months now. He (let's call him M) lives with his ex*, and my friends and I used to go over to their house for gaming weekends, before he and I got together. I haven't been welcome there recently, at his ex's request.** That doesn't bother me too much.

But what happened tonight? Really does. I'll try to explain...

M works all week and sees me on the weekends, so when he turned up unexpectedly an hour or so ago, I was surprised but pleased to see him! My housemate / friend D had just ordered us pizza, so it looked like it was going to be a fun evening in. Which would be lovely, since my other housemates were going out, and I didn't want to be alone tonight.

Boy did I misread the situation.

What was actually planned was for M, his ex, and D to go bowling together. That happens sometimes. I used to go with them, but these days it's just 'understood' that I won't because that would be too awkward, apparently.***

And if M had told me before showing up "Look, this is what's going to happen, I won't be able to stay longer than five minutes," that would have been fine. I could have prepared for that. If D had said in advance "I'm ordering pizza but I'm going out with M, so please save me some," that would have been fine too. It would have been okay. Not great, still, but okay. But to have what felt like a nice surprise U-turn into another 'you're not invited' event, well, fuck that.

I normally try to squish whatever feelings I have about this, because it sucks for everyone involved, not just me, but if I don't tell them how it feels to be sat at home alone again after that fucking directorial mislead, then it'll just keep happening. And please bear in mind that I'm aware how childish it sounds to wail about unfairness, but if she doesn't want to hang out with me, maybe she just shouldn't come. And maybe my boyfriend and friend shouldn't aid her baseless social exclusion.

* Which is fine. Unconventional, but fine.
** Also fine. I completely understand. It's her house, she should only have to endure the company of people she likes.
*** Not for me, I should clarify: for her. I'll hang out with whoever.

Okay! Kitty buffer!

I cannot stress enough how amazing this video is. It's like Daft Bodies crossed with Tron.

Niceness

My romantic entanglements have, for the most part, ended before the other party became aware of their existence. It always goes the same way: inevitably, at some point, whatever poor guy I've been... not pursuing, as such, more... ogling with wilful intent, will have the following conversation with me.

Him: Let me tell you about this amazing new girl I met!

Me: Shoot (me).

Him: She's so nice, she's such a free spirit, she has awesome hair and she hovers three inches above the ground wherever she walks! All that is best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes, blah blah fuckitty blah (I'm paraphrasing here.)

This usually results in the following dichotomy.

Externally:

Internally:

This was my life in high school, and this has been my life for the year and a half since breaking up with my ex. For the past few months, I've again been staring at some oblivious dude, attempting to work out whether he was even single. Over Christmas, the matter was brought to a satisfactory conclusion when it was revealed that not only was he unattached, but that the lucky girl he'd had his eyes on was, in fact, me.

In the words of President Obama, "I got the sucker."

That was nice.
It's still nice.

Taciturn, melancholy, doleful, blue

If you know me in person, I'm sorry for being a little bit out of sorts lately. It seems like, in the past few days, a switch has flipped inside my head and now I'm fed up of being alone again.

I won't try to claim that I hadn't been looking for anyone prior to that, but I was essentially okay with being single. I got my share of attention, and while it never led anywhere, it was nice to know that some people still found me attractive. But there have been moments - today especially - when I've heard a second- or even third-hand account of someone falling in love, and have been consumed with misery at the reminder that I'm not anyone's favourite person any more.

It doesn't help that, upon recovering the data I'd thought lost when my laptop died, I discovered old photos of holidays with my ex that I'd forgotten about. It sucks to ask myself when's the last time I looked that happy and (crucially:) relaxed. I still do feel happy, of course, but more often than not it's an oh-god-please-like-me kind of smiley, all bright and tense and desperate to be accepted. I watch myself doing this. Half of me is craving positive reinforcement, and the other half is convinced I don't deserve it.

This sounds awful, doesn't it. Self-indulgently emo, and with no good reason. But I'm willing to bet that you know what I mean, because we've all felt it, and for me this left-on-the-shelf feeling is back in a big way like I haven't felt it since I was nineteen.

Well, this is just tonight. Maybe in the morning, or in a day or a week, I'll have an entirely different outlook. I hope so.

THAT'S RIGHT LET'S ALL FEEL SAD FOR POOR LITTLE ME

a barbecue and a waterfight

"More or less exactly" is an oxymoron that I find myself using lately. As in, I've been single for more or less exactly a year. I can't be sure of the date because I didn't blog about it at the time, and without the internet to serve as my external memory I'm more lost than a puppy filling out a tax return.

I was seriously thinking about writing a "how I feel about stuff and things" post, but to be honest I don't have anything interesting to say about the subject. I lost my faith, and that was the only dealbreaker. Fin. So instead I want to share some awesome stuff I've been doing!

Two nights ago some friends and I had a beach BBQ. It was honestly the loveliest sunset I've seen in a very long time. Here are some pictures of that:








And then yesterday we had an epic waterfight, of which there are no photos, because I was too busy watergunning fools (and getting cups of water thrown over me because Aston's a dirty cheater.)

This but with guns and laughing

I'm really looking forward to seeing my family in a couple of weeks; we're going on a sort of road trip holiday thing so that'll be cool.

Much love to y'all!

Single again

One day, when I'm old, I'll look back and say "Ah yes, 2010, what a beautiful summer that was" and I'll have forgotten (or, not forgotten, but ceased to mind) everything that came with it.

Gavin and I broke up this summer after three years together. If you've been reading this blog for a long time, you'll know that he was my first love. First boyfriend, even; first kiss come to that. So the past 7ish weeks have been extremely difficult for me. I've been trying to sort it all out in my head, you know. Where I went wrong. Whether breaking up was the right choice. I only feel able to talk about it now because I met up with Gavin today, and we talked for the first time in over a month.

We still love each other, that's the kicker. But things must be the way they are, and fighting it because it hurts won't help matters. We're apart now. That's the bottom line.

A few guys have been expressing an interest since they found out I was single. Usually when I complain about this, I preface it with "I know it sounds ungrateful, but..." But not here. No, here, I'm going to be completely honest: I feel hunted. I wish they would take no for an answer; I wish they would pick up on my clues (hint: baggy jumper + no makeup = I do not want to be found attractive today thank you); and crucially - CRUCIALLY - I wish I could just forget all about that sort of thing for a while. I mean it; I am really not looking for anyone. At all. Whatsoever.

Aaaanyway... so, yes, we returned to me, didn't we. Sorry about that. At least I can stop saying "there's something I want to write about" now, because this was it.

ANYWAY, to compensate in some small way for this negative post, have a Cracked article! (Spoiler: it's even more depressing.) 6 scientific reasons breakups suck worse than you think.

Life is a mystery, everyone

Not sure what to say, really. That's never a good sign with me. Usually I either have something to say, or simply go without blogging for a few weeks, but these are special circumstances.

I'm feeling pretty down lately, for numerous and complicated reasons. If you're of a praying persuasion, I suppose you could pray for me? although I'm in two minds as to whether that actually works

Nothing is ever simple, is it.

Hope you're all well, I promise to think of something interesting to say once the blues have passed.

Chrimblas-related stuff and things

Lately I've been staying up late. Like, five-in-the-morning late. I've got a pretty big family, and while Christmas at home is by no means as chaotic as it once was (running to wake up the parents at 6am to show them what Father Christmas brought us in the night), late evening / early morning is pretty much the only time I get to be alone right now.

I've been on the Isle of Wight with my family for three weeks or so now, so I'm missing Gavin like crazy - especially at night, when of course I can't call him and talk to him. Such is life. But if it's been hours since we spoke, it's been weeks since we saw each other, and it's been a month - maybe more - since we actually got much time together. I've had deadlines and he's had work, and a million other reasons, all culminating in a big idiotic missathon. Missathon should be a word. Although it kinda makes 'Jonathon' sound like it means an abundance of Jon, which is -

Where was I?

Yes, so, Christmas! That's where I have been. Not that Christmas is a place, or anything, oh lord why can't I think straight? I have had too much chocolate, done too little exercise, watched too much television, and generally upheld Britain's finest festive traditions. Believe me, I'm already planning to hit the gym in January (HA).

I've been feeling awfully uncreative lately, too. It's become quite apparent that I'm not going to be a comedian (I appreciate funny like you wouldn't believe, but am incapable of producing it), and am questioning my ability to write. It's all about hard work though, really. If I could discipline myself, I'd be able to write something special (or so I persist in believing, despite a complete dearth of evidence for this (Also, mini-hellyes: that may be the first time I've used dearth in a sentence. New word! Woo! (Never lose track of your parentheses, kids.))).

So, as I can't embed any photos or drawings from my illustrious self, you'll have to make do with this instead:

Head Trip is an awesome webcomic, I've been reading it since I discovered this strip. (Yes, I discovered the backlash long before I discovered the books. Possibly influencing my decision to read it, as we young 'uns say, 'for teh lulz.')

Photographs and pachyderms

2 weeks between posts? Impossible! Unfathomable! Unheard-of!

Well, as it's the run-up to Christmas (sudden realisation: 3 DAYS?!), everyone's been very busy, myself included. I've made the should-have-been-so-simple journey home...

It was an interesting journey, actually. Our train broke down, so we had to board a second train that would take us two stops so that we could get on a THIRD train that would take us the route we were supposed to go in the first place. I was on the second train, wrestling my unwieldy bag into one of the less crowded corners, when I got talking to a girl called Amy. For once, it wasn't me who initiated the conversation, and I was grateful for someone to talk to.

It turned out that she had come from Cardiff too. She's studying maths at Cardiff uni, and plans to take teacher training. However I suspect that in the 20 minutes we were talking, she found out more about me than I did about her. She found out about my course, my depression, my boyfriend, and which church I'm going to. Apparently she lives just round the corner from me, and occasionally even goes to an event held at my church! Chalk that one down to coincidence, providence, fate, whatever. But it was interesting.

Last Friday was particularly lovely; Gavin always makes it very special when he gives me presents - candles, music, performing bears and the like - and this was no exception. He made a real song and dance out of giving me my present, and rightly so.

I am now the proud and excited owner of a Nikon D40!


The lens I've got is better than the one shown; 18-70mm instead of 18-55. The D40 is the camera everyone has recommended as a good entry-level DSLR. I've spent the past few days trying to familiarise myself with all the buttons. There are a lot of buttons.

It actually took me about a year to find all the functions on my little digital camera, mostly because I never intended to get as interested in it all as I did! I thought it would be fun, a toy; a way to make memories. Instead I ended up wishing I could fiddle with the depth of field... well, I can now.

I haven't taken many photos yet, and very few that are fit for the public to see, but you can always check out my flickr page if you want to see what I've taken recently.

Interesting thing of the day: Achievement Unlocked, a cute and quick little game in which you are an elephant.

Found on Flickr 4

kissing high - Cardiff, originally uploaded by © Maciej Dakowicz.

Romantic, chaotic, fun. I like this picture. And I love her shoes!

Being better

Egads, people...

I don't really know what to say for myself.

I'm sorry, most of all. I am currently feeling very sorry indeed. I've been a terrible friend, daughter, sister, girlfriend. a terrible person in general. I'm not depressed about it; it's not my way to convince myself that I'm worthless and to feel terrible about it.

How to express it... I would be worthless without the love of others. As it is, you've given me a value, God has given me a value, that I could never hope to earn on my own. So thank you for that.

I'm trying to be better, but then I always try to be better and very little comes of it. Still. One must keep trying.

As I'm often told, you don't have to be better than anyone else, you just have to be better than yesterday.

Ten things

For some reason I've found it difficult to write about anything lately. I haven't seen any new films lately, or I'd attempt a lacklustre review, possibly with a few mediocre puns thrown in for good measure.

So anyway, as I said, not much in the way of inspiration happening here. I suppose this is a filler post. For my regular readers, here are ten unrelated things about me that you may not know. To those who don't know me, who are new readers, perhaps, here is my proof that I'm not just another cardboard cut-out person who sits on the bus with you.

1. The place I dream about most often is my home church. I've had flying dreams, naked dreams, exploring dreams, even a sexy dream once, located there. I think I probably dream about it roughly once a week.


2. My parents sent me a bear for my birthday. He arrived today and has a hot water bottle inside him, and I've named him Bode. I think the journey must have been stressful as he's shedding a fair bit - I never want to travel by envelope!
   


3. Back when I used to get insomnia as a kid, I'd try sleeping the other way round, on the floor, in my wardrobe, on top of my wardrobe, in the hall... anywhere. It never worked.
   


4. I want to redecorate this site to something a little less fey, but I've absolutely no idea where to get the layout. I got this one by butchering some code from one of those "OMGLOL pretty up your myspace, lyk totally hot!!!1" sites.


5. I have maybe sort of cyberstalked before. A bit. But it was all public information. But I'm still sorry. Although I would probably do it again. Well then people should stop being so damn INTERESTING then shouldn't they! Still, we're going out now so I suppose I must have done something right! Hahahaah!! I'm not crazy!!! Hahahaah!!!!


6. I used to get very homesick for places I'd never been. Heaven, Ankh-Morpork, a willow tree by a river. I don't any more. Any great thinker, writer, or comedian will tell you that as soon as you're happy with your life, something in your imagination goes dormant.


7. The first pet my family ever owned died right underneath my feet. He was a cat called Chloë and I loved him very much. He purred for the first person to get up every day, so our parents had to ban us from getting up before 6.


8. For years I thought someone I knew was skiving off school. He had six months off at one point just because every weekday morning he'd wake up with an indefinable headache that would disappear sometime after lunch. When he was diagnosed with depression I felt like utter shit, especially since part of me still didn't understand.


9. My greatest fear is that I will cease to be interesting or likeable, and everyone I know will desert me, and I'll be incapable of making any new friends. Every day I wonder if this has already started happening.


10. I could be an amazing poet. I know I could. Maybe I will be one day.

I'm not going to say it's a meme, but if any of you decide you'd like to write ten unrelated facts about yourself (and let's face it who doesn't love a bit of a vanity-wallow once in a while), drop me a comment or an email with a link - I'd love to read them.

THE WORLD'S GONNA EN- oh no it's okay

Y'know, I now understand why emo-kids all have livejournals full of their depressing thoughts*. I have had an absolute shitter of a day, pardon my Klatchian, and my first response is "oh em gee I gotta blog this ish right here."

HERE FOLLOWS
THE TRUE AND EXTRAORDINARY EXPLOITS
OF ONE MISS ANNA FRUEN

So, today was the day I was supposed to get my results. I failed one module of my first year at Plymouth university, and I had to retake it to transfer. It was vitally important that I get those results before Monday because THAT, dear reader, is the day I register at UWIC, my new uni.

However.

They couldn't give me the results over the phone.
I couldn't access the student intranet because they've taken me off the system.
It had not yet arrived at my home address on the Isle of Wight because they were only sent off today.

This took many, many phone calls to Plymouth and to home to ascertain.

STRESSFUL!

I was left, panicking and tearful, to explain to Gavin and my parents why everything had gone so horribly, horribly wrong...

Until just now. Gav called. He said that he'd phoned UWIC, talked to K who's been helping me through the transfer (and thus deserves a medal), and found out the following:

a) I don't register, technically, until Thursday
b) Even if I've failed they can work around that
c) They've had a bunch of transfer students like me and it's all gone fine with them
d) They've found a tutor group that goes well with my "lively debate" style of learning
e) It's all gonna be ok and I can allow my blood pressure to subside to the point where it's not trickling out of my ears.

I therefore nominate Gavin and K for 'best people of the month' awards. Thank you SO SO SO MUCH!

I know it's difficult to follow this post - the life-saving phone call came partway through, so it's a bit jumbled - but all you have to do is say "Oh well done, thank goodness" or words to that effect.

*Sweeping generalisations. They're always right.

I was locked up for a year

A few days before my 21st birthday, I went missing. I was in a large room with about 5 other people. When the smell got too bad, or we just needed space, we'd go to different corners of the room. The man who put us there didn't want us escaping each other, so he put another half dozen or so people in.

A year later - although I kept saying it had been a day or a hundred years - we got out, I don't know how. I went back to my family on the 12th October 2009. They cried. I called my boyfriend and couldn't get through, and his message was different, and I was ready to cry, I missed him so much! But then I realised that what I had assumed was an extra bit of his phone message meant only for me in case I came back ("Loves Bear. Loves diddums.") was actually him - right behind me...

He told me that his job was going very well and that he was pretty much THE expert for (insert some techy thing here).

My family, Gavin and I went to this big new building to see my cousins and a bunch of other people from my church. They were all amazed and happy to see me. I was overjoyed to see everyone, I'd missed them SO much!

The strangest part was that... you know that mental check you can do? And then you go "oh, it's just a dream actually, I'm ok"? Well that came up negative several times. It was real when it was happening.

When I woke up I wasn't even sure what year it was. I went downstairs and turned the TV on to check that it's 2008. (It is.)

and that's why I puked on the vicar.

I can't believe how beautiful the weather's been lately! I was worried that it would be another washout, but instead I've been staggering about getting sunstroke and falling over. Not literally.

I spent the weekend at my vicar friend, TyTe's, house; which was absolutely lovely! He barbequed some shark for me and Gav out in the garden, and it was delicious. Absolutely amazing. I drank a few glasses of rosé, and then... well, I got rather drunk.

I've never been drunk before. It was very peculiar. There's a moment, when you're on a swing, when your stomach swoops and tingles. On a swing, it's amazing. Sitting on a chair, screwing your eyes closed and hoping it'll stop, it's not so fun. Seriously, why do people do this?!

Still, I'm glad that the first (and hopefully last) time I got drunk, I was in a safe environment with people I trust. I'm less glad that I threw up on the patio.

... in the downstairs toilet, Gav holding back my hair...

... in a plastic bucket in the morning...

... in the bathroom sink...

... in the upstairs toilet...

I didn't have the traditional hangover symptoms, just horrible, constant queasiness and throwing up. From 9pm on Saturday to about 3pm on the Sunday, I didn't feel safe. Thank GOD I got better just before I had to get on the train...

Aside from that though, great weekend!

I'm home now, with my lovely lovely family, and causing my beloved undue stress because I'm not in perfect health (in a different way).

--- CAUTION: GIRL STUFF FOLLOWING ---

Every time I move or have a lot of stress, my periods go haywire. When I moved to Plymouth I was on more or less constantly, and now I'm a couple of weeks late. Trauma. I mean, I'm not hugely worried, but I will feel better when I'm all sorted out, so I went to the doctor's today.

--- GIRL STUFF OVER ---

Sorry I've been updating so rarely; life moves so fast... hopefully I'll be a little more regular now!

Black and Gold

If the fish swam out of the ocean
and grew legs and they started walking
and the apes climbed down from the trees
and grew tall and they started talking

and the stars fell out of the sky
and my tears rolled into the ocean
now I'm looking for a reason why
you even set my world into motion

'cause if you're not really here
then the stars don't even matter
now I'm filled to the top with fear
but it's all just a bunch of matter
'cause if you're not really here
then I don't want to be either
I wanna be next to you
black and gold
black and gold
black and gold

I looked up into the night sky
and see a thousand eyes staring back
and all around these golden beacons
I see nothing but black

I feel a way of something beyond them
I don't see what I can feel
if vision is the only validation
then most of my life isn't real

'cause if you're not really here
then the stars don't even matter
now I'm filled to the top with fear
but it's all just a bunch of matter
'cause if you're not really here
then I don't want to be either
I wanna be next to you
black and gold
black and gold
black and gold

Listen to the song here

This song must have washed over me a thousand times. This kind usually does, to be honest, but today the lyrics finally managed to get through my expectations and smack me between the eyes. This is a much more eloquent version of what I've been saying for the past couple of weeks.

Thanks, Gav, for putting up with all my crying and miscellaneous assholery. You're an angel.

Falling apart

Yes, hello, sorry. I need help. Um. Badly.

As many of you know I've been a Christian my whole life, and it's a huge huge part of who I am. But for the past year or so I've been feeling hugely distant from God. I lived in Plymouth for a year and I didn't really know anyone; I spent a lot of time alone, didn't go to church regularly. I'm so much happier in Cardiff but the root problem hasn't gone away like I hoped it would...

The reason I'm asking for help now is that it's affecting me more and more. I cry every day (literally EVERY DAY), I just can't seem to get things together. I've been rubbish at just getting stuff DONE. There's loads of phone calls to make and emails to send and an essay to write and a flat that needs tidying and people to get back in touch with... and I don't feel able to do any of it. I feel like my support's been cut out from under me. God kept me going through all the hardest times in my life, so to have that gone leaves me with no coping mechanism. I could go all hard and cold and keep the pain out by building a wall around my heart but I don't want to, I really don't want to!

Even today I was on a bike ride and I got off and walked because I felt like I didn't deserve to have it easy. I decided I was pretty much the crappest person alive and that God could never love me, that nobody could ever love me. Then when we reached a main road I considered just not hitting the brakes and seeing if getting hit by a car would help.

Yeah, I told you I was in a pretty bad way...

Don't worry, I'm not suicidal. Never have been. I just wondered if getting bashed up and waking up in hospital would make things better.

I've tried to tell people about how I'm feeling. My boyfriend has been an absolute pillar of strength, but it can't just be on him. I'm planning to go see TyTe as well; and I've emailed a Christian counselling service in the area, and I'll be going home soon...

Thanks for reading this far, if you did, and if you didn't you won't know that I'm calling you a smelly bumhole.

Turning point

It's a long time since I've written a post like this. I think. Knowing my memory I could have written this word for word a month ago, but it doesn't feel like it.


I've been crying a lot lately. Like, a LOT a lot. You know that emotionally unstable girl who freaks out on her boyfriend over the tiniest thing, and he then has to placate her until she stops wailing? I have become that trainwreck. I NEVER wanted to be that girl. But there I was, walking blindly and silently in a random direction trying to suppress the tears once again while my poor beloved tried to understand what the hell was wrong this time.

Thing is, it's not hormones. I've been blaming it on hormones for about the past six months, which should be enough to clue me in, but it's taken me until now. It's taken me this long to remember that my general happiness is inextricably tied to my relationship with God.

We went to church this morning for the first time in a long while. It felt good. Both of us were very touched by the message, and I think it's time I once again confronted that scary-beautiful word 'repentance'. That was this morning. This afternoon was my most recent crying fit. After that, we found a green place by a river. There was a willow tree. We prayed together on a bench, and I sat on the grass and waited.

Sometimes you just need to wait.

He waited with me, holding my hand and looking directly into my eyes. He remarked afterwards how my eyes had changed, phasing through heartbreak, laughter and surprise in the space of a few moments. The truth is I was rediscovering something. Not all at once, because sometimes it takes time, but I was sat digging in the dirt and I felt like things weren't as awfully sad as they had been.

So, here's to Cardiff and new beginnings. Thank you all.

Nursie!

Not in the Blackadder sense, tragically, although I would make an AWESOME nursie. And not in the naughty PVC way either, although again, I'm sure I'd be more than up to the task. No, I've been simply nursing my beloved back to something-approaching health.

He was DYING!! Well, not really, but certainly very ill. Since Wednesday noon I've spent most of the time at his, flapping my hands ineffectually and occasionally changing his hot water bottle. I'm sure my nursing award is in the post...

He seems to be better now, so hopefully I'll become a bit more frequent in these supposedly "Almost Daily" updates. I confess, I've taken some liberties with the term "Almost", but such is life when things actually start happening.

Tonight Gav was actually feeling well enough to come to the pub with me to see everyone, which was a blessed release for both of us from the confines of his room. Things are looking up, people!

Dawn: Last night she was vomiting and then this morning she was vomiting some more, and then, just when we thought she was done, she started vomiting again.
Principal Wood: Yeah, we've got that stomach flu going around.
Dawn: Her exact words were "I've got stuff coming out of both ends."
Principal Wood: Thank you. That's... very helpful.

My First Dates

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?

Accidental.

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.