Busy Beast

This was probably one of the worst times to start my new blog. I have little to say at the moment because I'm not really doing much in my life, other than running around like a headless chicken doing mundane chores that just need to be done.

And then after this week I'm off to OTC Summer Camp, followed by Cheshire ACF Camp, and so there'll be about a month's worth of silence over here.

Today I shopped, and found a pretty green shirt. Then I got jiggy with the sewing machine to create Westy's Beast outfit:

Also, something amusing happened on the bus today:

After travelling about 100m on the No.60, the driver stopped and picked up an old tramp. He was obviously drunk, and he absolutely wreaked. He had a tray of chips with gravy, which he was dropping as he stumbled. The driver told him to get off, but he refused to, opting to instead sit down opposite me and uncontrollably curse at everyone on the bus. The police were called.

About 10minutes, the police turned up. Two hopped out of their patrol car and asked him to get off the bus. He refused, so they pulled out their latex gloves, ready to remove him. A third officer appeared, didn't even contemplate gloves and, without a word, grabbed him and dragged him off the bus. Problem solved!

The bus pulled away, and all that was left was a gravy-soaked chip:

One fellow bus-traveller muttered under his breath: "That chip shop should have known better than to serve him..." As if the key problem in all of this was the fact that a drunk man was eating chips?!

Fresh-faced!

I ran out of facewipes last week, but I've not been able to buy any more... until yesterday.

I left my card in the Chip'n'Pin at H&M in York because I got seriously distracted by the rather pretty man serving me. I was too busy struggling over answering Would you like a bag? because of his prettiness, so there was no chance of me remembering to grab my card.

My bank would only send my card home (Leamington, home) and for some reason there appears to only be one post van a week travelling between Leam' and Liv'! Mum posted it Tuesday, and it turned up on Saturday, along with things that had been posted the day before.

So I've been survivng on the £17 left in my other bank account, and worrying that my new card would never turn up.

Anyway; facewipes. I ran out. I couldn't buy more. My face became skank - soap and water just doesn't cut it anymore. Westy said he still loved me though, so it was fine.

But this morning I am fresh-faced and my skin is happy. I will never underestimate the power of Simple cleansing facial wipes again!


Today's ToDo List:

1. Get the bus back to school so that I can show my mentor the Training Entry Profile I've been working on today. He needs to sign it off for me so I'll get paid.
2. Get into town to buy fabric to make Westy's fancy dress outfit for camp. I promised him I would and I really do want to.
3. Get to uni to pick up my graduation ceremony tickets. However, it has to be cunningly timed so that it's during another graduation ceremony to ensure campus isn't swamped by graduands and their families.
4. Get to the unit (before 4pm) to get my bergen out of stores and sort it all out so that it is ready to be packed onto transport for camp.
5. Wash every item of clothing that is remotely dirty so that it can all be packed away.
6. Choose what clothes etc. I'll need for Wednesday through til Friday because the parents are going to be taking everything else home with them on Wednesday!

Ugh, I am already running late!

Army Wives

A few months ago Phyll, Jo and I discovered, and became addicted to, ArmyWives. We watched all 10 or so episodes one after the other on YouTube within about a week. By the time the series had hit British screens we had already seen, and loved, them.

The second series is now airing in America, but it won't be over here for months. For some reason, it hasn't appeared on YouTube, and Lifetime.com have only made the first episode available online. That first episode made me bawl my eyes out. Seriously. Phyll and Jo did the same.

This evening I managed to find the second episode and I have, again, cried and cried. I absolutely love it and wish I didn't have to keep hunting for new episodes! I often sniffle a bit at films and TV shows, but I rarely actually shed a tear. However, I'm not joking; ArmyWives made me properly cry... and you'd be a fool for thinking it's because all the army husbands end up dying. It's much more gripping than that!

So, I urge you to do the same. If you've not seen the first series; watch it!

It's going to take me ages to fall asleep now because I have a proper runny nose, and I keep sneezing!

I hate Chick-Flicks

In hindsight, I hate watching chick-flicks. Yes, they leave you with that warm tingly feeling when the couple end up living happily-ever-after, but they don't half put a downer on any relationship you're in when you realise that you just don't have that clichéd happiness.

This post is not being written in an attempt to count the ways in which Steve and I are failing. And, for the record, we're not failing. We just happen to be arguing this week - over pathetic things.

As well as a hatred for chick-flicks, I have discovered a hatred for boyfriends-reading-journals.
When I gave Steve the address to this we weren't together. We'd broken up, and I wanted him to read it to reassure him that there wasn't somewhere on the internet where he was being bad-mouthed. I suppose I wanted him to know that I'd been honest with him, and I wasn't telling him one thing and then thinking(/writing) something totally different.
But then we got back together and, of course, the URL stayed the same.

It's just, when a boyfriend has access to a journal, they over-read into things, but never 'comment'. They never comment online, and they never comment in conversation. They just sit and stew. It's like what is written is obviously a brain spill of mine, but it's not been spoken about, so it's just left as a piece of literature.

I was about to continue by saying that I didn't like the imbalance of honesty. I thought that maybe my honesty via my blog somewhat out-weighed my honesty in person. And that people aren't usually so open about how they feel... but, well, I am bloody honest. Regardless of whether it's written or spoken; I generally get out what I want to say and vent about what is upsetting me.
I just can't have it any other way.
If there is something upsetting me then I can't just bottle it up. If I try to keep quiet about something, I end up venting and blowing it out of proportion. I suppose that's what I've done tonight.

But, in a chick-flick, my boyfriend wouldn't have upset me. And if he had, he'd have groveled. Therefore, in conclusion; I hate chick-flicks. They set girls up to be disappointed.

The Big Move?

So I've transferred some of my recent posts over to here. I'm going to see how it goes. For a while I'm going to post on my my livejournal, and my blogspot, just to see how I like it. It'll be a pain, but hopefully after a while I'll have made a decision.

I've already discovered a downside to blogspot though; I can't create locked posts. They're either all visible to everyone, or all friends-locked. Maybe I'll just post locked entries on my livejournal... although I'd rather they were all in the same place.

The Good Wife

I got my hair cut this afternoon and, although I was a bit unsure at first, I now love it! I love the fringe, I love the length. The only thing annoying me slightly is the colour, but I can always dye it... when I have some cash.

Just before she dried my hair she asked if I had a boyfriend. I replied "Yea, and he hates my hair short!". We both burst out laughing and had a girl-power moment during which we agreed that it's our hair and we will wear it how we like! - A sentiment I could not agree with more, after watching my mother cut her hair repeatedly to look like a mushroom in order to please my father. She hates it, we hate it, but it's how Dad likes it so it's how it's going to stay.

Screw that.

After sending Steve one of the photos above, he confirmed that he doesn't like it.


Part of me thinks that maybe I should give in and conform to a husband's/boyfriend's wishes... not just with regards to a haircut but just things in general. Right now I'm far too strong-willed and uncompromising to change myself for anyone else. Maybe I will one day? And maybe that will be a sad day.

Time Flies

I leave Liverpool for good in less than a week. I graduate next Wednesday. I am once again reminded how fast time flies.

Wasn't it only last year that Dad stormed out of my Halls after I managed to offend both parents by asking if they minded leaving me to my own devices so that I could "settle in"?
Did I really spend a year living here? That place seems an absolute lifetime away, and reading over my journal feels like I am reading the memoirs of a completely different person. Have I changed that much? Really?

I just drifted off reading past entries and reminiscing, but I really have to go to sleep because tomorrow is my last day at work! I'm finally teaching my first lesson, although it won't be on reproduction as was originally planned.
I was supposed to teach it today, but I chickened out. I rarely chicken out of things, but I just didn't feel comfortable doing it. He basically threw me in at the deep end; he told me yesterday that he wanted me to teach a lesson today using his lesson plans and his resources. Now if I'd been allowed to create my own lesson, I might have been ok... but I had no idea how long his activities would take, and I didn't totally understand the entire contents. How am I supposed to teach them something I don't understand myself? So I plucked up the courage to tell him I wasn't happy doing it, and I ended up watching him teach it, so that I can teach it to a different class tomorrow. Wish me luck!

Honeymoon's Over

I'm in a strange mood. One of my over-thinking moods.
Westy invited 4 people over for dinner this evening without mentioning it to me. He cooked, but I was left to do the clearing away, and when that's clearing up after a roast chicken dinner for 6 people, it's not particularly pleasant. Everyone thanked me as I washed up all their shit, but noone offered to help.

I suppose I'm seeing the bad side to our pseudo-marriage.

I called Westy into the kitchen when I was clearing away:
"Westy, honey, can you please let me know when you're going to bring friends around?"
How much of a wife do I sound?? I went on to explain how unfair it was that he'd created such a mess for me to clear away, and asked when they'd be leaving so that I could get on with some work in the lounge. I was probably moaning quite a bit, but it's my house and it needed to be said.


I guess I'm kind of feeling like noone cares at the moment.
Noone seems to be particularly interested in what I'm up to, and there's noone here to give me a hug.

But, then, at the same time I am crazy happy, because I'm sat here in my half-made Lion King fancy dress outfit! And I'm finding it hard to be sad when I'm sat in front of my sewing machine. So life isn't all bad! Life never is all bad when you're inside my head!

Late At Tate

I've just discovered Late At Tate. I have been in Liverpool 3yrs now, yet I only just discover that the Tate puts on a free evening of art talks and music once a month. How is this fair??
Fortunately, this month's Late At Tate is next Thursday. So I can go to one but... I have noone to go with. I can't think of anyone who is around in Liverpool that would want to go to such an evening with me. I kind of think that's pretty sad. This is something that really interests me, yet I don't have anyone that shares that with me. I know that if I were at home I could find a good few people that would want to come.

So, shall I go on my own?

I've been meaning to see the Gustav Klimt exhibition ever since I noticed the advert for it at the train station, and I really want to stay and listen to Ana Silvera. But I don't know how much I want to go on my own.

I suppose I could try and persuade Andy to go with me. Or maybe Naomi.
Hmm. Maybe I'd enjoy it more on my own because at least that way I wouldn't feel like whoever I was with was only there because I'd dragged them along.

Tactical Sick Day and Interviews

I woke up this morning and felt like crap. I'm just so run down. I have a heavy chest, a constant sniffle and a constant headache. So... I called in sick to work.
I've only ever called in sick once in my whole life. I just don't usually get ill, and I'm sure I'd feel horribly guilty for dropping everyone else in it. this job is different though, because if I'm not there noone would really notice. I've kind of lost that spark I had in the first week, because now there's nothing really for us to do. We've observed lessons, we've completed most our tasks, and now we just get the feeling that we're getting in the way.
I decided that I'd rather take a day off and get myself better, instead of just carrying on and making myself worse. The last thing I want is for me to be ill for my graduation.

So it was a tactical sick day.


This afternoon I got a call from a company I applied to for a ski job this winter season. I have an interview - woop woop! So that's 2 interview's lined up now; at least one of them has to want to employ me, right? I quite like interviews...
I couldn't get them on the same day, but I have one on August 12th, and one on August 13th, so I'll spend the night in London. I got a bit excited and invited friends to join me... It'll be nice for us to spend some time together, and everyone loves a night out in London, so hopefully some people can make it!

Mum went and put a downer on the whole thing though. The dates of the interview happen to be when they are in America, and I have agreed to look after the dog while they're there. Instead of calling to congratulate me, she called to find out what I was planning to do with Tess. As if I am incapable of finding someone else to look after her for 24hrs! I'll walk her on the morning of the 12th, a neighbour can check on her in the evening and the next morning, then I'll be home that evening to walk her again! She's old and decrepit and now doesn't even like being walked, so it's not like she's an energetic puppy bouncing around the place.

Mum and Dad just don't seem to be able to be happy about my French Alps plans. They've known for the past 6months that I want to spend this winter season working in the Alps, yet all they do is find problems with it. They seem to have absolutely no confidence in my ability to get off my ass, and I've given them no reason to think that about me.

So I snapped at Mum and put the phone down. Now she's going to be annoyed at me and I'll end up apologising.

Attention Seeking

As I walked home this afternoon the sun was shining. Earlier in the day, we'd been talking about wine. I couldn't help myself; this afternoon I gave into Westy's pleas and headed to the pub for a much needed cold glass of Pinot Grigio.
One glass lead to two. Two glasses lead to the pub quiz. Three glasses lead to us losing the pub quiz. And then it was time for home.

We got chatting.

Despite my usual, over-opinionated self, I am finding it hard to decide how exactly I feel about a recent topic of conversation. I can't quite sort things in my head and decide what my opinion in.
A friend of mine, of ours, has recently taken her (ex)boyfriend to court, alleging that he has hit her. Of course gossip has run wild and it is a frequent conversation topic. Instead of discussing the weather when the conversation runs dry, we discuss the ins and outs of this messed up situation.
Although I cannot deny that I usually know, and spread, most gossip, I feel uncomfortable about this.
Usually gossip involves alcohol, and someone kissing someone, or someone's girlfriend finding out about someone. Usually something hilariously trivial that isn't going to wreck lives. But this... well, it's fucked up. It has the potential to majorly fuck things up for a lot of people.
I just don't want to take sides - even though the gossip is in favour of one side of the story. I can't help thinking of ifs and buts, and probably looking for more ifs and buts to stop people being so judgemental and condemning their (former?) friend.

The story is much more complicated than I would ever divulge in this journal, so please don't attempt to assume where this is going, or what the background story is. But it got me thinking:

When someone "tries to kill themself" it is either put down to them being an absolute nutcase and in need of immediate help, or simply dismissed as them being "an attention seeker". It's as if looking for attention is just shrugged off and everyone's fed up with it. I've always taken issue with this stance, because I've always felt that, if someone is looking for attention, there is probably a reason why. And so you should probably give them that attention, to find out what the reason is?

Growing up in Leamington, I have been surrounded by "attention seekers", and I am probably one of them, although not to the same extent of some of the worst culprits. Kids in Leamington generally have too much money and happy lives, so they create their own drama to spice things up a bit. If you've read the past few years of this journal you'll understand how much drama I've managed to stir up, without even really meaning to. But my drama has always been low-key and boy-related; never anything to really cause anyone else any damage (other than a bruised heart).
I had a friend who cut her wrists and burnt herself with cigarettes to leave scars, another friend over-dosed on a few paracetamol,  someone else's ex-girlfriend cut her wrists in front of him and he ended up on the phone to me in tears. I doubt any of these people ever meant to kill themselves; they just wanted a bit of attention. And attention they got.

So... if someone does something outrageously stupid, is it ok to dismiss it as "they're just attention seeking", or should you give them the attention they so clearly crave? Just because you know they're not actually planning on ending their life, does that mean you shouldn't take them seriously, or give them some kind of care?

Then there's the whole subject of him hitting her and my head gets even more screwed. I guess that'll always be a subject I can't really get my head around.

Surprise Take 2

Yesterday was Hannah's turn to be surprised:

She didn't really master the shocked look like Helly did.

We all hopped on trains from our respective parts of the country to throw Hannah a surprise 21st birthday party! She didn't have a CLUE - 10mins before we shouted "SURPRISE!" I was chatting to her on the phone from her kitchen, telling her I was in Lancaster.

However, I can't keep up with this constant enjoyment in my life. I am really making myself ill. I feel so run down, all I want to do is curl up in a ball and spend the day in bed. But tomorrow I am back to work for my final week of 6am starts. Eugh.

SURPRISE Helly!

Helen, re-enacting being *surprised* when I appeared on her doorstep yesterday evening. (Compare with the googled image on my last post...)

After a carefully constructed and well thought-out plan, we managed to successfully conceal my presence in York from Helen. She had no idea I was going to turn up, so the surprised worked out wonderfully and we have a really lovely time.
I've not seen my girls since we were home for Easter, and even then I don't think there was a single night where we were all together. So it was fantastic to spend some time together, like old times.

It seems Helen enjoyed herself too, judging by the message she just left me: "Rosie thank you SO much for the best surprise in my life so far!"

However, I am now exhausted.

Life is full, full of surprises!

These next few days are going to be full of surprises! I can't wait! I shall post more when I can.


(Annoyingly I have the lyrics in my head to Cilla Black's Surprise! Surprise! Anyone remember it? "Life is full, full of surprises, and the greatest surprise of all is yooooou!" I tried to find an mp3 of it online, but it's nowhere to be found!)