Archives for the month of: October, 2012

I almost cried when I saw kids on TV eating pizza.

I’ve never been a big meat-eater, haven’t eaten Pork since I was 14 and in a vegetarian phase. I started to eat fish and chicken here and there, but went veggie again when I decided I was Buddhist about 12 years ago. It’s not a prerequisite, but the Dalai Lama asked the question “Why would you eat the flesh of another living being if you didn’t have to?” Good question.

I got a bit poorly and decided to eat fish again, they live mostly free and in better conditions than most other animals (I eat responsibly sourced fish). To offset this (morally) I gave up drinking milk, calves die for milk and the lives the cows lead are pretty gruesome, it is a life in bondage. I did really well for months, till I broke, I cannot live with out cheese, but did stick to soya milk.

We do not know why my body is attacking itself but there is only one way to find out and that is the process of elimination. Dairy first (no eggs either). Just to be insane about it, I decided that I would cut soya out at the same time. I can’t say that I feel any better so far. It’s not too bad, easier than stopping smoking (8 months and counting). (Have you noticed a rise in my use of parentheses? Curious isn’t it?)

I’m house sitting for a friend. The house comes complete with two dogs, a lurcher and a black lab. Beautiful beasts, well natured; one insanely well-behaved and the other a bit of a disaster zone and prone to selective hearing. The black lab is not well so walks have to be brief and moderate. But still, half hour four times a day soon mounts up.

I thought that no cheese, a house with stairs and 2 hours walking a day would result in me losing a few. Then on Saturday the lab started limping. He’s on limited walks (one a day) and antibiotics and steroids and painkillers. Shit. The lurcher still needs walking but my heart breaks every time I close the door on the other one, so she’s getting shorter walks. Shit.

I get to light a fire in the wood burner everyday though! I found some dairy free snacks; a packet of Nice biscuits that do not contain milk, but may have milk in them!? A packet of peri-peri chicken crisps that don’t have chicken in them, but may have soya in and a bag of mixed nuts that I have not read the allergy instructions for O.o

My theatre has re-opened, it has a new management team. I read four pages of ’50 Shades of Grey’ because it was on my friends computer desk and I finished my book too early. I can’t read any further, even teenage novels read better. I am now reading ‘Eats, Shoots and Leaves’, lets face it I need to. I’m listening to; Kings of Leon, Mumford and Sons and Arctic Monkeys. And hoping that I am not lactose intolerant and that my loose morals do not continue to slide, I suppose I could always eat road kill.

Just in case you were wondering how I’m taking my tea, I’m drinking it with Almond milk, which is really nice with cereal but a bit rank in tea.

And finally, I am having some of my work read at a literature festival.


I’ve been watching another dating programme… I’m trying to see what I’m missing. Not by virtue of not having a relationship, but intellectually. What is it that other people seem to get and I don’t? I’ve been observing the body language of the people involved.

There is one woman who goes quiet when she’s with someone she likes and it looks like she’s aloof but she’s not. I’ve been told that I need to date people who make me feel uncomfortable (not as strange a proposal as you might think). I can only think of one person who makes me uncomfortable and oddly enough, he is one person that I don’t feel the need to show off with.

I have a very strong public persona. I love performance and any chance I get to muck about I will take. But there I was dressed up for some performance piece, sat talking to him like I was in my civvies. We have a mutual friend who has said she would arrange a tea and cake date and I am putting it off.

Related to this (in a TickerTapeMind fashion) is a post from another blogger; about love and hidden superpowers. I thought can we not? Do we have to find someone with a matching superpower (her’s was liking pizza flavoured ice cream). Or can my superpower be not having a superpower? Do I have to be unique, individual, extraordinary, special… can I not just be a bit boring and sedate?

Take walks, reflect upon my surroundings, take comfort in a hug, watch a sunset, rise with the sun, sail… listen to music whilst pottering, have a dance perhaps… but are these things superpowers? What does it mean when someone tries to make miracles out of the everyday? Does it set us up for unrealistic expectations of life and love?

Is love extraordinary?

I thought it was ugly and ridiculous and a bit bizarre, and that you make it work by virtue of sharing compatible neurosis and reminiscing about positive shared experiences? I thought it was about creating a unit to protect each other from all the bad stuff (what ever that maybe, diarrhea or hypothermia, whatever). I thought it was liking having sex with the same person with the same ridiculous rhythm as you over and over again and not getting bored? Am I romanticising love here?

I loved working with the hostel chaps, I had a random but nice week end, I feel flat. I am coming to loathe my independence. Having no one else to think about makes you very insular and inward thinking and I have had enough of naval gazing to last a life time. I have cabin fever. I might wake up one day to find that I have gone feral in semi rural suburbia……

A couple of days ago a sense of calm came over me. I thought it was because the neighbours were silent. A few days on I’m not so sure. I’ve been fuzzy, feeling a little lost. At times it feels a bit like grief, strangely sometimes it feels like I am being held. It’s something that I am not going to try explain.

Life seems to be leading me back to ‘The Hostel’. In 1994 I found myself homeless. One of those weird teenager/parent arguments spiraled out of control. Being headstrong and having already left my mothers home a couple of years prior, I wasn’t going to be bullied into staying in a house with an angry man.

I said I was going away for a few days and my dad said if you walk out that door don’t come back. Oh yeah! I reached for the door and he shouted at me to leave my key. I said I’d give it back when I had picked up my things. He flew over to were I was, purple faced and raged, “If you walk out that door you leave your key.”

I left the key. I went to a friends and his dad opened the door with the classic, “You look like you’ve just left home!”. Floods of tears later… After three days my friend was talking about this project that he was helping out with. I said that I would go check it out before peoples generosity and patience ran out. They said it wasn’t necessary, but I’m no mooch!

I was in the hostel for a month before they moved me into the move on project, two months after that I was fortunate enough to get a flat in the city. I think it was easier for me because I had a job, maybe I was just wiser than the other kids, had no drug issues.

I was in that flat for 9 years, got better jobs, got a degree and a student debt, moved to a really nice semi rural area; into a two bedroom place. In 2007 I spotted an advert for a job with ‘The Hostel’. As a joke I applied, see if they still remembered me. Well, they did. My ex-support worker was the manager, he offered me the job.

A few months ago, I needed a reference for the Internship; I contacted the hostel and spoke to a man (not the manager!) I haven’t talked to in five years. He left before me and I didn’t expect to see him again. Yes, he still made my blood run! I quickly decided that I wouldn’t release those feelings again. Wow. Just wow. Memories of him. Loads of memories of working there surfaced too…

I was talking to a woman I volunteer with about a new project she is running. Decorating a hostels rooms, teaching kids how to decorate, all that jazz. Second part of the project is for the kids to go to another hostel and peer mentor the residents there. Now where do you think the second hostel is? Yeah. Round Three?

U is for UB40, Don’t Break My Heart
V is for The Verve, Sonnet
W is for Paul Weller, Pink on White Walls

Rain on window sill, like wild horses. Cat refusing to eat new food. Electric blanket breaking and remembering the faff with the hot water bottle (hate heating in the bedroom). Have to adopt a Dairy Free Diet for a month… What the hell am I going to eat? Enjoyed black berry picking the other day, found some out of season raspberries too.

I thought that I would tidy up a few things from yesterdays post.

I don’t think that all men buy into the bullshit. What I think is that large corporations want us all (men and women) to buy into to the bullshit to maintain the status quo. What FatCat wants is a docile and subservient working population and s/he will utilise any means necessary to achieve that. Including telling you that JohnnyForeigner wants YOUR job.

Unemployment is completely unnecessary and avoidable. It exists merely to provoke a climate of fear. It is very successful. As is the old JohnnyForeigner rouse. Working migrants are the bedrock of healthy work environments (and gene pools). Let’s not forget that plenty of ‘US’ go over there ‘THERE’, how is that different from ‘THEM’ coming over ‘HERE’?

Why did I tag Feminism in? Because anyone understanding all these things that still thinks it’s ok to not employ a woman (because men need the work) or fail to pay her a full wage, is sexist.

I believe that the current economic climate is created by a few men’s greed (there may be a few women somewhere). This is one of the more destructive elements of ‘Individualism’. I believe that Individualism creats an either/or climate, a false dichotomy between EVERYTHING!

I believe that’s so damaging to everyone on the face of the planet. Very few things in life are either/or.

Maybe I’m just a hippy. That’s okay with me. Being Buddhist I think it’s a complement. I think we should all get what we want, but not at the expense of someone else.

T is for Talk Talk – It’s My Life
T is also for TLC – Sumthin’ Wicked This Way Comes (ft Andre 3000)

Nothings changed but the gangs…

I baked the worst cake ever yesterday, it’s full of fruit, but heavy as a brick.

P.S. I cannot for the life in me get my links embedded within the main body of my blog. So I have posted it as a comment.

P. P. S. I need a hug.

I didn’t get man or job. Just a lousy cold.

I think that it is perfectly reasonable at this juncture to say, “Fuck!”. There are a few other choice words, but wary of the word limit I’ll stick with that one. “Fuck, that is so depressing”.

My savings are gone and the government wants to take away my home of the last decade (I have a spare room and ought not to have because I am now poor). So poor that it looked like I might have had to visit a food bank; could have been embarrassing to find myself in line with some of my ex residents.

I remembered that I hadn’t put in my expenses for one of the volunteer jobs I do. Hurrah! Can have fruit and vegetables. Even managed to get some raisins and dessicated coconut. I am diversifying. I ought to stop baking cakes in the Pyrex, I might be able to sell them if they looked a little less ‘bowly’.

TickerTapeMind ought to be in job search mode. However, it is more focused on writing (probably because friends are winning prizes and being printed). Writing a blog, a journal, an article: even 100 words to see what kitten I would get for “Written? Kitten!” Google it, it’s a great. I digress, but that’s kind of the point too. I don’t want to fill in another job application. I don’t want to go to another interview and be told another candidate was stronger than me. “You’re good, just not good enough”. No shit Sherlock! Otherwise that would be nepotism. #Sulking.

OK I lied. 2 choice words. Shit and Fuck. Fuck, Shit. Fuck this Shit. Shitting Fuck.

FatCat gets all the money. WorkerBee works more hours than is healthy because FatCat threatens another WorkerBee will have his/her job. S/he is kept working through fear, because you know in this climate it is hard to get a job. WorkerBee is not being paid extra money for extra hours even though s/he is working two jobs and FatCat works least and benefits from WorkerBee’s labour. Now, DoleyScum (that would be me) would like 50% of Worker Bee’s hours, so DoleyScum can have the satisfaction that comes from having done a job well and keep her lovely home, or afford to move across town to where all the CoolKids are. BUT FatCat will not pay the extra wage whilst WorkerBee keeps working.

Government, instead of making FatCat pay fair wages for fair work, tells WorkerBee that DoleyScum is lazy and wants a living for nothing. Everybody is shitting on DoleyScum, when all DoleyScum wants is a shitting job! DoleyScum knows that men get more money for the same work she does (when she’s working) and even though “Commerce” is telling the world that women are more marketable, they are still chronically underemployed and underpayed. BUT Male DoleyScum and WorkerBee believe FatCat’s bullshit (is that technically still the second choice word?) and hate Female WorkerBee and DoleyScum for putting pressure on their wages and jobs. Let’s not even talk about “all the foreigners”.

I’ve never been the kind of woman to sell my soul or my principles, but never has becoming FatCat’s PlayThing seemed more attractive. Hey! Here’s what I can do. I can set myself up as some sort of “Honey Trap” hahaha yeah, no, that is never going to work, I can’t even finish the sentence…

J is for Jamiroquai – Mr Moon
K is for Chaka Khan – I Feel for You
L is for Level 42 – Lessons in Love
M is for Mumford and Sons – Sigh No More
N is for N. E. R. D. – Break Out
O is for OutKast – Ms Jackson
P is for Piaf – Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
Q is for Queen Latifah – U. N. I. T. Y.
R is for Rhianna Kenny – Oh Baby
S is for Selah Sue – Please (ft Cee Lo Green)