My access to the internet

I have no laptop, it broke, a while ago...hence my 3 month blog apathy I need to buy a new one as this no laptop scenario is totally effecting me more than I thought possible.

I always used to say "yeah I'm not addicted to anything, there's nothing you could take away from me that really wouldn't bother me", this is said in a squeaky Cartman style voice by the way.

So my not buying a new one was not just only a financial thing it was also me trying to prove to myself that I wasn't addicted to my laptop.  Stubborn creature that I am.  

How's that working out for you?  I hear you ask. Not to good.

The reasons I miss my laptop...

1. It was my connection to my friends and family that live too far away for my liking.
2. It was entertainment when the TV isn't available
3. It enabled me to sit in my room and not socialise (on those less sociable days)
4. It facilitated my access to my other addictions of social networking and online shopping (yeah OK I'm fallible and a liar :))
5. It was pretty...hee hee

So now that I have proven to myself that I am not really that addicted I should buy a new one before I go nuts, shouldn't I?

I also could do with a visit to BA (Bacon eaters anonymous) if  I'm putting all my cards on the table.

They're only getting younger....

Today I went to the London School of Osteopaths on the advice of a colleague cause I've been having trouble with my neck and shoulder...who knows why, it could be age or my ass (we'll get back to this one later :)) I thought why not go here, it helps students learn and is cheaper than a regular osteopath.  Brilliant win, win right? 

So I walked in to the reception and almost immediately heard my name called looked up and two 'boys' barely over the age of 20 something came out to the reception area to collect me.  

They take me into one of the clinical rooms where they start taking my history, my history that is older than Methuselah and both of them put together.  I had underpants on older than this pair (another mortifying realisation when asked to strip down).

So anyways after asking me quite a few embarrassing questions...e.g. Are my poos loose? How regular is my cycle? (how do these boys know about periods)

I then was asked to strip down to my underwear, my old cotton pants while they talked to their supervisor. They'd just be gone for 10 minutes they said, the thing with time is that 10 minutes whilst hanging out with a mate and supping nice glass of wine, well it just simply zips by doesn't it?  When you're in your bra and pants, old pants waiting for people, young professional people in the next room to finish your consultation well the bastard just drags by.....it's like being caught in a horrific time loop, so I put my trousers back on cause I just felt so damn awkward. 

So here's me with my old, fat cellulite laden ass and my very messy bikini line emerging out of my pants, ha ha emerging that makes it sound like something delicate and shy not the horror out of control garden that I was looking down upon.  The voices were screaming in my head 'why didn't I wax last night !!!!???' 

You would think this was the end of my humiliation oh no.....I then had to bend over for them to check my posture (while I imagined they were sniggering behind their hands and doing that finger down the throat motion) whilst he suggested in technical terms that the size of my arse put strain on my back.  This is of course not what he actually said (he was a consummate professional, they both were)but is what the most mental, female part of my brain heard.  Baby has got back indeed. He also said 'she has good mobility' what I heard was 'for someone of her age'. 

Would it have bothered me as much if they were young females, yes without a doubt.  I don't think this was a gender thing it was more an age phobia.  I generally don't consider myself vain but I've also never been one to lack in body confidence, I think I'm doing pretty good for my age (if I do say so myself). But the thing about youth, as lovely as it is (and I do like looking upon its freshness) I quite frankly prefer to be fully clothed around it, especially when I'm stone cold sober and in that amount of lighting.

So next week I have to go back and I will be wearing bigger pants and whipper snippering the rabid outback.  Oh and trying to silence the voices.....

A new breed of dog

Apparently they are called 'honest players' or so I have been told.  These are men (I guess they could be women just as easily but rarely)who cheat on their girlfriends/wives....yadda yadda and tell you straight off the get go that they have girlfriends/wives...yadda yadda.  

Hmmm why would these HP's do this?  You ask...

Well then when you turn around at any point and bitch that you don't get enough; commitment, love or attention they can say, "Well sweetheart I did tell you I had a girlfriend/wife.." you get the point?  It's your choice if you enter into this situation you've been given full disclosure and there is no recourse for ignorant bliss.

Who are the women that facilitate this you ask, are they women who don't respect themselves or the 'sisterhood'?  What kind of nasty bitch would hook up with a bloke that already has a girlfriend?  Does she not feel guilty?  Why can't she get her own boyfriend/husband/object of meat?

See what I did there?  

I blamed the woman, and that's what most of society does as well.  Whenever any of my female friends cheat on their partners or hook up with a 'taken' man, I don't ask why, I don't care, I just say becareful.  

If you get caught you will be blamed, you will get labeled with the scarlet letter.  We historically and socially accuse the female of the species of this sexual indiscretion, is this because we expect more of women?  Boys will be boys and all that shit.  Do we assume that women have a lower sex drive and therefore are less likely to cheat?

So many questions and very few answers.  I can only come and this from my cynical perspective.  So I'll try to answer as clearly and concisely as I can. :)

They respect themselves.

There is no loyal sisterhood, it doesn't exist, there's women who are loyal and love you (your friends) and women who don't (your competition).

I know quite a few.

Guilt is easily compartmentalised and often overrated.

She can, but probably doesn't think it's worth it, considering what's on offer.

We do expect more of women it's the whole Christian, social mother/virgin scenario, it's outdated and boring.

Yes we assume in our culture women have a lower sex drive, newsflash we don't. 

'Honest Player' bless them, a dog is still a dog, new breed or not.  But it's your choice to make, not theirs, whether you become one of the bitches in their pack.

“I find my life is a lot easier the lower I keep everyone's expectations.” - Bill Watterson

Fairy Tales...

But when the witch bent down to peer inside the oven and check the heat, Gretel gave her a tremendous push and slammed the oven door shut. The witch had come to a fit and proper end. 

Poor witch living alone in her cottage in the middle of the woods when these two little hoodlums come by and start destroying it with their gluttonous hunger.  She was just protecting what was hers right? :)  Imagine that... being female, single and childless...it must be the most horrible thing in the world.  Especially when you get to the poor witchy poos age.

More Fairy Tales...


Barren, Spinster, Old Maid.....bless.  Words you don't hear very often but yet society still views women of a certain age in this light.  I was told recently that it is OK (read: acceptable) to be a man in his mid-thirties, that is single, sexually active and non-committed but to be a woman in the same position well....now that's another story.  Slut, tramp, loose.


Reality...

My mum used to say 'you have one life, you live, you die, you become worm food'. I was brought up quite rightly believing that you had to make the most of this one life you had been given.  There was no after-life, no do overs. My gender was never an issue in these conversations, I was never told that I couldn't do something, be someone great because I was a woman.  Now constantly I get reminded by society of the expectations it has of me.  I bought into this for a while, it depressed me.  I have been told by male and female friends alike that I need to be more submissive, less assertive, let men chase and persue, play the game, be more coy...yawn.  I have been asked if I am a dissapointment to my parents because I'm not married and haven't given them grandchildren. 

I was always have been abundantly aware of how fast life goes, it really does zoom by and I have always felt I didn't have enough time to do, see, taste, feel, learn everything I wanted. I have a good job, I pay rent, bills am responsible (mostly ;))I worked pretty much full time while completing a degree, I have travelled around the world alone.  My life thus far has been pretty amazing and I don't think my parents are dissapointed.  Why is society more focussed on my 'failure as a woman' and not my success as a human being.  Why is it odd/unacceptable to be a woman at this age and to be single, childless and openly comfortable with my need for sex that is not attached to intimacy?

I find my life is a lot easier the lower I keep everyone's expectations.... and the higher I keep mine....well it is my life.

Protect me from what I want.- Jenny Holzer

Saw this postcard --------------->

on the weekend at the Whitechapel Gallery  went I went to see an exhibition of John Stezaker's work.  Whitechapel Gallery was fab and really enjoyed Stezaker's art also love exploring yet another area of London I haven't had much experience with.

This postcard by Jenny Holzer is part of her 'Truisms' exhibition and I just love her work.  This particular phrase has been used nicely(appropriated)in Placebo lyrics.

Protect me from what I want?

Do we really want to be protected from what our heart desires, our self absorption our indulgences?

One of my favourites quotes by William Blake is 'Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained'.  

I don't want to restrain my desire.

I never wanted to one of those people who looked back and thought I wish I had of touched, seen, eaten, smelt, held, kissed that or been there....I didn't want to have regrets about missed opportunities, experiences or journeys. 

I don't believe anything is out of my reach.

That country I haven't been to, that goal I haven't yet achieved, those people who I am illogically infatuated with after only one meeting.  Time, distance, money is no issue to me.  There are no barriers.  Barriers (excuses) are made in fear of failure, I would rather fail than not have tried. Although, if you protect me from my desires then I won't potentially have to face defeat, loss, embarrassment and heartache.

Protect me from what I want, please?

We don't always know what's best for us, we have addictions, weaknesses.  We humans are indulgent creatures.

We are selfish and self-absorbed.

Drugs, alcohol, food, complacency and lust.

What we want is not always what we need, what is right for us.

We ask opinions that we don't listen to, advice that we don't take and stay in situations that make us unhappy.  We beg for support and help then don't take it when it's offered.  We create dramas that we can play the lead role in, drag our friends in for bit parts, then wonder why they get pissed off at the constant re-runs.

Don't protect me from what I want..

....if you do, how else will I learn my lesson? 

Stickers got me thinking.,,,,

You know the bumper stickers on vehicles that indicate clearly that there is a 'baby on board' or 'there's nothing left inside this vehicle overnight', the ones that overly explain the really bloody obvious.

I was thinking wouldn't it be easier if we could all wear stickers like this?  

If my eyebrow is raised it is because I'm judging you.
Yes I am angry.
In my mind I've pictured you naked already.
God you're boring.

We of course could change them daily or hourly depending on our moods, the weather or the people we meet. Then people wouldn't have to ask how you are feeling (right now or before you asked me?), if you're angry (mostly always) or am I boring you (generally yes).


It would reduce meaningless conversation somewhat, however...


I always believed that my face worked against me, not in the 'boo man she's scary ugly way', more in the 'everything I am thinking is written all over it' kind of way. Maybe everyone else is just as easy to read as I am but we are all just generally too self absorbed to take the time to bother reading.

Let us for a moment consider... What would happen if we paid as much attention and time to our fellow human, planet/oxygen sharers as we do reading that moron's bumper sticker in the car in front of us? 

It would reduce meaningless conversation somewhat and it would save on the stickers.

When do I become a Londoner?

So I had a wonderful night tonight.....

My night tonight is not going to be tarred by that....thing/person and yet I'm writing about that....thing /person.

I went to Camden and I made new friends and I had a wonderful time.....

and you my divine creature on the 341 you crossed my path,

You, who told me start quote 'should fuck off back to my country' end quote, you told me I didn't belong here, that people like me is what makes your country shit, people like me is where it's all gone wrong. People like me. Not people like you...?  Yes Bob (let's call you Bob) I have lived in your country for 14 years now, for those 14 years I have worked Bob, worked hard, I have done jobs that most of your English mates wouldn't do.  Bob in the 14 years I have lived here I have never signed on, not once Bob. 

I bet your friends have signed on.  I have however Bob have paid towards the NHS and the national insurance for 14 years which I haven't claimed on, not once Bob, not fucking once.  You Bob are an ignorant piece of work and I hope and pray that you will learn this through some educational insight but I doubt it.  Because you Bob (as the ignorant Bob group) are effectively what makes most Western countries shit.

I cry for you Bob you Xenophobic human, I cry for what you don't know, what you'll never experience, breathe, eat, taste, experience and live.  I did cry Bob I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, you broke my heart Bob.  You once again made me lose faith in the human race.  

You don't factor and yet I'm blogging about you.

Bob when you wake up tomorrow and the sun is shining on your face and you put that bread in your toaster, you will have a moment. That moment you need to dwell on, because Bob this is your reckoning.

Because Bob, you truly need to be educated and you better fucking hope I don't cross your path again, because sugar and light I will educate you until your nose and eyes bleed.

Bob I am coming for you.

Life, Books, Coffee, Death and Blue Skies. What a way to spend a Sunday.

So yesterday, a 'blue sky' day, I went exploring my neighbourhood again...this time heading up the posh end ooo er...I started in Waterlow Park

which I can't wait to sit in during Summer time and read a good book (or pretend to) so I can people watch (one of my favourite occupations :)).  One of the many things I love about London is the large preserved 'green bits' it has always within a stones throw of where ever your living. 

I loved and miss this

about not living in Greenwich but as the

Waterlow Park

Olympics of 2012 fast approaches I am so very glad I got out of that area.  I don't think I could bear to see the destruction of 120 year old oak trees under the nasty hand of tourism and capitalism.  Anyways...there I go ranting again...after walking through the park I ended up in Highgate Village which is very pretty with book stores and cafes and nice bars.   Next time I promise to take pics of the view, the shops and the people.  

After buying even more books I didn't need and drinking more coffee I also didn't really need but can't seem to wake up without, I arrived at the gates of Highgate Cemetery.  With perfect timing I caught the last guided tour of the day at 3pm. (they close at 4)

I originally went to see the grave of Karl Marx (what can I say anthropology student) but when I saw this tour I thought why the hell not?  Highgate Cemetery is massive, unbelievably huge consisting of two sides, the East and West.  The tour I did was the West side with Marxy boy being buried on the East.  (brap brap...sorry couldn't get that out of my head)

Cemetery tour...dark and gruesome you think? Very typical of you Mel ;),I hear you say?  Ah but no, wrong you are, not at all dark and gruesome it was (Yoda I have become)...it was incredibly fascinating, the guide (a very cute goth girl) was extremely informative, interesting and knew her graves, her history and her boxing...

George Wombwell's Tomb

Or should I say pugilism??  

All this for only £7 (which incidentally goes to the upkeep of the cemetery..you can't say fairer than that).

I loved it and I'm definitely going to go back probably with the bossy blonde to check out the East Side.  What did I love about it?  Besides the history, well there's the beauty of the sculptures and the architecture, the nature of the area has become almost symbiotic with the man made graves, ivy intertwining with marble, trees growing around headstones.

It was just simply, beautiful.....

Egyptian Row

...but it wouldn't be me if I didn't imagine the annoying, robust looking (Mel subtext) German lass in our tour group (taking really noisy photos,answering her mobile phone after being told to switch it off and lagging behind so the tour guide had it to keep pausing for her)getting dragged off into the crypts by the undead and eaten alive, with the rest of the tour completely unaware as her screams were muffled by rotting, decomposing flesh. 

Ahhhh...it really was quite a wonderful way to spend a 'blue sky' Sunday afternoon.....however that would've made it just slightly more amusing for me. :)