Post-Watershed Dreams - The Last Night Of 2006

On the last night of 2006 I dreamed that my brother was dating ALL of my female Brightonian friends.

Apparently, they all knew, and they didn't seem to mind, all bar one - who had a proper tantrum when she found out that they were all planning to get married in a huge white wedding at the Royal Pavilion. As it turned out, these girls had only been friends with me to get to know my brother, which annoyed me somewhat. So, I did the only thing a girl could do - I ran away to the circus with my dog Casper and my little sister Liz.

Once there, I discovered that we had quite an aptitude for acrobatics and as such became their star performers. One night, as we were flying through the air with the greatest of ease during our trapeze act (to the song "Birdhouse in your Soul" covered by They Might Be Giants), a great howling and groaning started up. Looking down, I saw that the entire audience in the Big Top had turned into Zombies and they were of course, hungry for our lithe and flexible, be-sequined bodies. "Bugger" I thought. There was only so long that Liz and I could hang on to our trapezes.

And lo, we were rescued as the Tardis shimmered into view and the Doctor - played by a friend of mine who, while he does not look much like the lovely David Tennant, does behave very much like any good Doctor should - whisked us away to safety. Liz fell in love with a leprachaun she found hiding in the Tardis, I made tea and cakes and the Doctor turned Casper into K9 and showed me the other things that a Sonic Screwdriver can do ;) *shock*

Then I woke up. Damnit.

No, I don't know what that was all about either.

Anyway! It New Year's Eve again! I could wax lyrical about all the delightful things that have happened this year, and all the things I have overcome or learned, but this time, I shall not. It's all here in blog form already.

I hope you are all off out doing what you wanted to do, or snuggled up at home with the people that matter to you. I myself am about to put a corset on, drink champagne and then head off into the night in Brighton to see what or who the end of 2006 can tempt me with.

I love you all, be good, have fun, and a very, very happy 2007 to you!!

Yuletide...

A very swift message typed from the secret headquarters of my Dad's detective agency...wearing a very sexy, white, luxury Santa hat. I look very silly and yet, alarmingly cute :)

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR to you ALL, my lovely, dearest bloggers :) I hope you all get lovely handknitted jumpers from Ron's Mum and big boxes of chocolates from Hermione....and a late night visit from our favourite Potions Master! ;) ;)

Much love, festive hugs and mistletoe kisses

SHG xxxx

The feeling of DREAD(s)

*runs through the corridors squealing*

"It's almost Christmas!! Wooo!"

*trips at the corner, drops bag and books tumble everywhere*

"Bugger!"

*Spies Draco eager to help gather up the spilled bag things*

"Well hello...why thank you!"

*giggle*

Must be my new hair that caught his eye ;)

Binned...

I gathered up every single beauty magazine I had, every glossy-paged thinspirational weekly trashy publication, and bundled them into plastic bags.

Paris Hilton, Posh Spice and and their skinny-minnie friends stared at me, hollow-eyed. Lindsay Lohan looked washed out and messy, Nicole's ribs jutted out of the pages.

My Associate and I took them all, all of that wasted energy and money, and threw them into the paper recycling bins near The Level.

And it felt good.

I have Dyed and been Reborn.

I am officially the messiest person I know.

Especially when it comes to hair dye.

I am re-doing my roots, so that means fresh black and red hair for me - and hands, ears, neck, face, bathroom too. Lovely, fresh, sexy red and black dye EVERYWHERE. I've tried all the cunning ruses, like using vaseline around the hair-line, and yes, even wearing the gloves provided in the boxes, but still, I end up looking like a human canvass.

At least my hair looks ace.

From Iceland With Love...

Hello lovelies :)

I am currently representing the Slytherin House in ICELAND!!

It is bloody freezing. Actually, it is 17 below zero ;)

This keyboard is rather lovely and odd - I can type æ and Æ and Þ and Ð and Ö and there´s no "at" sign that I can find, so that´s going to make checking email a bit tough, hehe.

It´s overwhelmingly amazing and breathtakingly beatiful here. It´s like a cross between how I imagine the surface of the moon to look, and Middle Earth. The people are wonderful and everything is really expensive. But I love it. There will be many photos and stories when I get back!

Love and snow angels xxxxx

Coin-Operated Boys and Strippers with 6 Tits.

The Dresden Dolls gig at the Roundhouse in Camden was truly unlike any other gig I have ever been to.

I'm not even sure I could describe it as a gig, to be honest, given the amount of extra entertainment going on all around us between the support acts (who, although their names escape me - I'm rubbish, I know - were terrific) and the mad, heady atmosphere in the building as the venue filled up and more and more unusual things started to happen - but I'm getting ahead of myself here, I'll go back to the beginning and start again. Are we sitting comfortably? Then I shall begin.

The Associate and I arrived at The Roundhouse at about 6.15 on Saturday afternoon, and already there was a sizeable group of colourful individuals queuing to get in. By the time the doors opened, the number was HUGE, and we had been entertained by a harlequin giving us sweets from a top hat and a hot-pink bride asking us to throw rice over her for good luck. As we were let in, gorgeous people in very little clothing snaked their way through the crowd and I got eyed-up and purred at by a devastating blonde in a red-corset. As we went down the steps I almost exploded with joy as Amanda came out with a camera following her and I spluttered "Omg, it's HER!!" at The Associate and almost fainted like a complete fangirl as she walked right passed me.

I'd never been to the Roundhouse before, but man, it's amazing. It's round, as it's name suggests, and enormous - but a great place to see any band as the accoustics are fab and there's loads of room even when it's full to capacity.

As we walked into the Main Space, two brightly made-up boys offered us pink roses which we gladly accepted as we skipped inside - it was like being a kid again, in a toy-shop or something equally wonderful. The main stage in front of us and on either side two smaller stages with madness unfolding - contortionists, magic tricks, acrobats, mimes, and beautiful, beautiful people everywhere. I think my favourite had to be this young lady, who spent most of her time gliding through the throng and dancing like a ballerina:

Isn't she something?

The Associate and I didn't really know where to look most of the time, running from one thing to the other, squealing and taking photos, being accosted by a girl who asked us to write our confessions down for her (and no, I'm not telling what mine was), and watching the support acts as they amazed us. We were treated to a man with an afro who made music with household objects called Sxip Shirley, and another man with an afro who shouted at us through a loud-hailer. Honestly, it was better than it sounds ;) And there was the sexy asian lady, mistress of ceremonies, who performed a burlesque strip-tease to reveal not only SIX breasts with nipple tassles, but a WILLY too! :D :D

And then, then, it was time. At 9pm the illustrious, sexy and downright wonderful Dresden Dolls made their entrance to the stage. I think I might have actually cried a little bit as they launched into cracking song after song, doing all my favourites, each one accompanied by something amazing courtesy of the Dirty Business Brigade UK (and apparently, some of the German one too!). Brian lost his top early on and we got to gaze upon his naked chest for the rest of the gig, and Amanda was wearing the hottest frilly knickers I've ever laid eyes on:

And here they are again with someone from the Legendary Pink Dots (who supported them too), performing "Missed Me"

And finally - here's me at the tube station after the gig, with Brittonito and my pink rose :)

There was this incredible moment towards the end, just before the encore, where hundreds of sparklers were lit across the room, during "SING" and the whole audience sang along, voices lifted in chorus together - to a man everyone was joining in, it went on and on and on, it felt as though the rafters of the Roundhouse were reverberating with the notes...it was breathtaking...

"There is this thing that's like touching except you don't touch
Back in the day it just went without saying at all
All the world's history gradually dying of shock
There is thing that's like talking except you don't talk
You sing
You sing

Sing for the bartender sing for the janitor sing
Sing for the cameras sing for the animals sing
Sing for the children shooting the children sing
Sing for the teachers who told you that you couldn't sing
Just sing

There is thing keeping everyone's lungs and lips locked
It is called fear and it's seeing a great renaissance
After the show you can not sing wherever you want
But for now let's just pretend we're all gonna get bombed
So sing

Sing cause its obvious sing for the astronauts sing
Sing for the president sing for the terrorists sing
Sing for the soccer team sing for the janjaweed sing
Sing for the kid with the phone who refuses to sing
Just sing!

Life is no cabaret
We don't care what you say!
We're inviting you anyway!
You motherfuckers you'll sing someday...
You motherfuckers you'll sing someday...
You motherfuckers you'll sing someday..."

Verdict = absolutely fucking amazing.

And the best thing? The whole show was filmed for their up-coming DVD, so I can relive some of the magic again :)

The Dresden Dolls = Love

Life Is No Cabaret...

...I'm inviting you anyway...

Tomorrow, ladies and gentlemen, boys and babydolls, I will be gadding about Camden Town in my best and most bizarre black and white outfit, clutching a small black teddy with a big mouth and an even smaller Grito with an even bigger heart, wearing a top hat and white face paint, arm in arm with the Associate, for tomorrow....I am going to see...

The Dresden Dolls!!

This calls for much wooting and joyful leaping

*WOOT*

*LEAP*

And relax ;)

I heart Sioned.

I am proud as a peacock today.

I was going to blog about the ridiculously horrid day I had, about the pointless beaurocracy and red-tape I had to deal with, I was going to add some interesting tidbits about reasons behind my absence from here - yes, it does involve my Associate, and yes, it's all good, I was even going to urge you to sign up with MySpace, because my computer seem to enjoy loading up that page more than this one, and so I find myself there more often these days, but NO.

Instead I am going to blog about how PROUD I am to know some of you, you excellent bloggers. I know I don't make enough of you, really, but I've got to know some of you really well and my life is enriched because of it. You know who you are.

But special, heartfelt thanks go to Mistress Sioned for the HUGE parcel she sent me which arrived today, with mountains of glorious pink and purple tissue paper insde, concealing the most beautiful peacock ornaments I've ever seen, a wonderful book on totem animals and two pairs of fluffy stripey socks.

How utterly gorgeous of her. The card made me cry like a little girl too, but only in a very good way. I love you :D

Password: Unforgettable

I'm sorry I have been absent for about a week now, but I had a very silly moment: I changed my password and promptly forgot it.

I was locked out of my very own computer.

I seem to have quite a knack for this, locking myself out of my own house on more than one memorable occasion, losing my house keys and now forgetting my password. Literally only a few hours after I had changed it. The housemate and I tried many different things, my Associate attempted every skilled method he could, we even considered hitting it with sticks until it gave in and let me play sims again. But no.

So Mr Wood, he who created this computer of mine, came round and hacked into it using a disc of Magic, and lo, the password was cracked and the computer was mine again! Mwahaha!

I am so very pleased. Now, what have I missed?!

Also, my Associate is taking me to London for the weekend tomorrow *huge happy grin*...I should really write the end to my little story "The way things happened" really, shouldn't I? Perhaps it's best left at this:

"Middlesbrough is a very long way away. By the time they had driven there and back again, they realised just how much fun eachother's company was, and decided that their lives were actually much nicer with eachother in them.

'You are amazing' he said, smiling at her.

'You are too' she said, smiling back"

THWARTED!!!

So, I worked from 9-1 and had a very busy morning indeed. It was stressful, hectic and I was tired, but I consoled myself with the thought that I was going to London this evening to see my lovely friends, dance, drink and generally make merry at LondonLoves.

I got home, started getting ready and danced around my room to the Pipettes...

I got all dressed up....

I went to the train station...

And the lady at the desk told me that due to mental, evil, stupid works on the line (not her exact words, more mine really) it was going to take me about 3 hours to get to London via busses and diversions, and about the same getting home at the ungodly early hour of...10.30pm in order to get home some time this week.

BOLLOCKS.

So, I sighed, cried a little bit, stamped my feet, and went to Sainsburys. I have just come back, having bought three tubs of houmous, a loaf of bread and a wicked Christmas present for my Dad all dressed up in my Slytherin finery and a vintage pearl choker necklace.

I plan to eat the houmous and bread and watch horror movies and play Sims2 all evening, and try very hard not think about everyone having a lovely time in London.

Pah

I am so tired :( Working 12-8s and still waking up at 8 in the morning is a bad thing :(

And, my internet has been kaput for two days and I MISSED IT! How silly am I?

TEETH

I was eating my branflakes with brazils and yoghurt a little too enthusiastically this morning.

Did I bite my lip? No.

Did I bite my tongue? No.

Did I bite my tongue piercing? Yes.

Did I chip a bit of my tooth off in the process? Indeed.

OUCHIES.

At least it isn't visible from the front! I've got to go to the dentists really, but it's not something I am looking forward too. The enamel on my back teeth has worn off a bit and my gums bleed when I brush my teeth...boys and girls, purging might make you feel splendid for about 5 minutes, empty and free, and just about manage to keep the lbs off (but really, it doesn't, becuase it's barely possible to empty one's stomach before the digestion process, and therefore the absorption of the vitamins, minerals, fats, proteins, carbs etc, has begun) but GODDAM, it will wreck your teeth if it goes on too long. I think I've avoided too much damage to be honest...but still.

Nudity and Friendship

Well, what a fabulous weekend I have had.

It was so ace that I can't fit it into words in my head, let alone translate those words into a blog entry, so I shall simply say this:

My parents and their friends rock (thanks to them I had a great weekend and am now the proud owner of a vintage pearl choker necklace.)

My Associate is the best person EVER (thanks to him my PC now runs at the speed of lightning and my Sims are AMAAAZING).

And these two pictures, in the flesh (hehe) are quite the most beautiful things I have ever seen:

I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend too :)

Back From The North!

My associate and I made it to Middlesbrough, and back again, in one piece.

In fact, it was a really ace weekend.

Really, really ace :D

Even though there weren't any dragons, which I was fully expecting, that far North... ;)

Adventuring!

It's raining SO HARD in Brighton again. I fear we may be swept away by the force of the downpour....

In fact, I *am* going to be swept away, because it appears that I am going on an Adventure to the North today, to watch men in red and white shirts kick a ball around on some grass and shout and cheer and generally pretend to be a BOY. I am leaving in about 30mins and I still haven't finished packing my suitcase. Hmmmm. I have made a packed lunch for myself and my associate though :) I am very proud of myself.

I shall let you know if I make it to Middlesbrough and back again when I return on Sunday...if I do return.... ;) Have a lovely weekend everyone!

SHG goes to The Infermary

On Tuesday morning I was rushed into hospital by my adorable housemate Miles because I was suffering from quite the most agonizing pain in my left side that I have ever felt. Ever.

After registering at the A+E department (yes, one has to register, even if one is about to keel over, going grey and sweating, like I was), we sat and waited til a nurse could see me, and then some time later, a doctor saw me. By this point, I was literally crying with pain, and actually getting quite scared that, well, that I might die. My vision was blurring, I couldn't hear properly and I couldn't do anything to alleviate the pain. The doctor examined me and finally announced that I needed morphine.

Well, fuck-me-sideways, that's obviously a diagnosis and a half. Give the girl some fucking painkillers. It did work though, I have to say, but only after a trainee doctor had abused my left arm trying to get the IV drip needle into it so they could administer said hardcore painkiller. Ouch. As an aside, when they finally removed it two days later, I saw that it was a whole 4 inches long. *Faint*

Their initial thought was that there was something wrong with one of my kidneys. In order to clarify this, they decided to inject me full of Iodine and then x-ray me periodically throughout the day to see how the liquid travelled through my system. Cue me having to change out of my own clothes and wear TWO hospital gowns. Oh, how sexy I looked. They also declared me Nil By Mouth until further notice. I was wheeled around between the X-ray unit and the CDU (Clinical Decision Unit) more times than I care to remember, all the while feeling very odd from the painkillers and my lovely housemate trying to keep my spirits up (but, as he has now told me, getting more and more worried as no-one seemed to know exactly what was wrong with me, or indeed, how they were going to fix me).

Eventually, they said to me - Miss Hall, your left kidney appears to be entirely blocked and it is not working. I thought I was going to faint. They then went on to tell me all the lovely and diverse things that they could do to fix me - the next day. That meant staying in hospital all night :(

The last time I had to stay in overnight was when I was 11 and had my appendix removed. I wasn't prepared for it really, but by this point, I didn't really care. Miles bid me goodnight (and Tom did too, bless him, thanks for the Dragonlance book!) and I tried to sleep.

Sleeping in hospital is a really, odd experience. I kept nodding off dispite the pain, being woken up to take more pills, being wheeled around, listening to people snore, trying to read, thinking that one of the nurses was my auntie, and then waking up in a whole new place altogether - Chichester Ward (When Miles showed up the next morning and was told that I had been moved to Chichester, he almost needed a bed of his own to lie down on!) I was told that I would need surgery/didn't need surgery/needed more x-rays. I decided to just let them get on with it.

The long and the short of this is - I apparently had a kidney stone, which has now gone, I didn't need surgery in the end, and I spent two bizarre days in hospital.

I will be drinking a lot more water from now on ;)

And what's the best way of getting over a traumatic hospital experience? Going shopping with your Mum, taking it slow and discovering that the T-Chest, your fave t-shirt shop is having a buy 1 get 1 free sale - so you end up with 3 t-shirts with hot naked japanese chicks on them :D Oh, and a new skirt....and a new bag...and the 4th Sandman novel...YAYNESS.

Now, Then...Tomorrow.

What was I doing on this day 5 years ago?

I'd watched open-mouthed for 5 solid hours with my housemates and friends as the coverage of the terrorist attack on the World Trade Centre towers unfolded on our TV screens. I felt shaky, sad and unsure of what the future held...

What was I doing on this day last year?

I'd just been caught out text-cheating on my boyfriend and I was sleeping on the sofa, while the drama of the end of my relationship unfolded around me. I felt shaky, sad, and unsure of what the future held...

What am I doing today?

I'm watching "The Path to 9/11" on the BBC, thinking of my friends and family, remembering the beautiful man that I'd been texting this time last year, musing on how much things change, and yet stay the same. I feel shaky, sad, and unsure of what the future holds...

Or do I?

No, I know what my future holds, and I know it will be OK. But now, just for now, I will cry, and find solace in my tears.

Tomorrow is another day.

Mon frere, mon ami

My brother has just driven away to go to University tomorrow - he's going to study to become a Marine Engineer.

I've become used to him being in the house this last month, he's been an invaluable friend, source of strength, a mirror in which to see myself and redress certain things I don't like. He's been my coffee-companion, someone to watch movies with and someone to cook for.

I wish him all the luck in the world, but I am really, really going to miss him.

Clean

Today, I have mostly slept, eaten some nuts and chocolate, and done the laundry.

It isn't much, but it's a start.

Clean bed-sheets are rather lovely.

Everyone Pretend To Be Normal...

My housemate Karen found a badge in the washing machine yesterday. We don't know who it belongs to yet.

It is yellow and proclaims:

"Everyone pretend to be normal"

It made me laugh so hard I almost fell over. I am going to pin it to my school-boy hat and wear it with pride

The way things happened...

He said: "You are beautiful"

She said: "So are you. I'm going to kiss you now"

..............................

She said: "I'm leaving him. I'm leaving him for you."

He said: "You are the most amazing woman I've ever met"

..............................

She said: "I need my space, I can't do this right now, I know I'll end up hurting you because I'm not mended yet..."

He said: "But I love you. I can't bear to be without you..."

She said: "Ok then..."

...............................

She said: "I really can't do this, I really do need my space, I really do know I'll end up hurting you, because I'm not mended yet..."

He said: "But I love you. I can't bear to be without you..."

She said: "Mais je t'aime tellement, mon couer est en train de briser, je ne sais pas quoi faire, mais je t'aime..."

..............................

He said: "I love you, but I don't know if I'm still in love with you..."

She said: "Ok then, lets go on a break..." (and inside the only thing taking a break was her heart...loudly, and messily, and with such turbulance...and she didn't know what she had, until he was gone...)

..............................

He said: "I love you"

She said: "I don't believe you"

..............................

He said: "I really do love you"

She said, without saying a word: "I still don't believe you"

...............................

He said: "I'm scared that you might be the one..."

She said, again without saying a word: "I think you might be too..."

................................

He said: "I really love you...who did you kiss while we were on a break?"

She said: "I love you too...but lets talk about this in the morning..."

.................................

He said: "I still love you, baby..."

She pretended she couldn't hear.

..................................

He said: "I can't deal with this anymore..."

She said: "........................."

She cried. A lot. He cried too. They both needed space.

She's sorry. So, utterly, unbearably, unutterably, soul-consumingly sorry. She misses him. She's living, she's alive, but she misses him.

She finally got her space to mend herself.

It's just that it is mighty lonely, surrounded by all this emptiness...and she realised that she needed him for all the right reasons, not the validating, self-gratifying ones...because he saw her for what she was, really, and that's what scared/intrigued her the most.

Myspace - or yours?

I'm pretty sure the internet is evil.

I think I'm addicted to it, but I loathe it as much as I love it, to be honest.

I can waste hours online, just STARING at things on the screen, reading and re-reading emails, looking at pictures...and MySpace. Oh. My. God.

It's like Friends Reunited on acid, or something. Everybody and his little sister, uncle and cat has a MySpace page. Ok, even I do - here. But it scares me a little. The way that people get in touch with you through it, either complete strangers or people you met once, or old school-chums. It also fascinates me, in a sick, twisted way...I don't like it, but I can't stop going there...it's car-crash self-elevation and validation/rejection at its very best. It's also potentially very dangerous too, emotionally, as you can link to friends of friends of friends, and see/read things that you would probably rather not...I'm drawn to it, and revolted by it at the same time.

Hmm.

Well, I'm dying my hair tonight and trying to rid myself of mad energy again, and then heading off out with housemates to celebrate The Shiny New Housemate Karen's Handing In Of Dissertation And Finishing MA! Woo!

I have just completed a 12 hour shift.

I had a headache, interesting side-effects from meds, and unspeakable stomach cramps.

I still managed to only have one funny moment, do 65 calls and process 2 loans.

I think I deserve a medal I am, certifiably, AMAAAAZING.

What's more, I'm back there at 8am tomorrow morning...bring it on biatches

Cats and Dogs

It is POURING with rain here in Brighton.

I'm giving serious consideration to going outside just to run around in it.

Starlet Without A Part

Is it meant to break your heart when you find out that someone you care about is getting in touch with all his lovely female friends from his past, and one of them is his ex and first lover?

Is it actually meant to hurt this much?

Is it right?

Is this going to make me stronger?

Is this supposed to make me sad, mad or just numb?

I feel like I'm acting in a play that no-one's finished and I haven't been given my lines for the day.

Like Father, Like Daughter

I'm a Daddy's girl, at heart. I love my Mumma dearly and she's ace, but Dad is, after all, the first man in my life and therefore, the most special.

Tomorrow, I'm going to have a day all to myself with him, because he's taking me to see my very first Opera! We are going to the Royal Opera House to see Boris Godunov performed by the Bolshoi Opera. Ooooh, how exciting.

Also, because he's a verbose man with a lot of opinions and he can't help sending them to those he feels may benefit, my Dad has just made his first leap into being published on the internet - please go here to read his report on Mr Landis on the British Cycling homepage. If that doesn't load - which it didn't at first, on my pc - here's what he wrote:

"I will be mortified if the B sample provided by Floyd Landis turns out to be positive. I have watched this epic sport for years, loved every minute and admired every rider. Spectating competitive cycling has given me some of the best moments of my life and I take my hat off to all these competitors but still the disgrace of drugs haunts this sport with all the recent events you know about."

"I'm in my 62nd year now and after being involved in an RTA in December last year I spent 9 months recovering from broken pelvis and other injuries. I rode my son's turbo standing up to aid recovery because I couldn't sit for months and got so fit I decided to begin racing this year. It's been Surrey League events so far: 3 races entered with 3 more to come before end of the season. I've finished every one so far - epic, gut-wrenching, punishing but inspiritational stuff, all of it."

"This sport belongs to all the riders, watchers, supporters, members and we are all utterly devastated when the drug allegations appear. So, I am calling for an un-equivocal lifetime ban for any rider caught using drugs, abusing our trust, demeaning and trivialising all the other decent sports people who claw their way out of the bunch. No ambiguity, an un-equivocal lifetime ban - in other words never to be allowed to race professionally again, to end this cheating once and for all."

He'd make an excellent blogger, I'll warrant.

Right, I'm now off to forage for foodstuffs as there's nowt to eat in my house except EGGS and then I'm going to settle down and watch as much Dr Who on DVD as I can until I fall asleep.

BLISS

I am cursed mother-to-be?

Ok. So, besides being the Slytherin Head Girl, general ass-kicker, spontaneous kidnapper, pyromaniac, attention-seeker, lover, colleague, and fierce friend, I'm also a sister to a fabulous brother and a proud daughter to two amazing parents. I mention this, because it is relevant to what I am about to post.

During the normal course of my day at work, I answer queries and questions from a wide range of people from across the country. Some of them are delightful, others are cunts, some go away from speaking to me happy and everything's shiny for the rest of the day; others, sadly, walk away fuming and foaming at the mouth because I will not let them win, because when I am right, I am RIGHT, goddamit.

Today's blog subject relates very much to the nastier side of my customers.

I was mid-call to a young, single Mum on income support who was clearly very distressed. I was handling her in the only way one can - let them shout themselves out, then talk calmly and reassuringly, gain their confidence and resolve the issue. Except that she wouldn't stop shouting. She kept on shouting. More shouting. It was going on 15 minutes and I'd only just managed to get through the identification process with her, she just wouldn't let me get a word in edgeways, sideways or any other ways.

The irony of this tale is that, if she had paused for breath and LET ME SPEAK, I could have solved her issue in about 30 seconds, but would she let me talk? NO.

And then she said something that was utterly unexpected. She said "How old are you anyway? You sound about 12 years old!"

Finally, a chance to speak! I replied, not in the slightest bit put off by her tone: "Well, clearly I am not, but that isn't the issue here is it Miss..." and off she went again, coming back with:

"Well, do you 'ave any kids? Do you?!!?"

Ahem. "No, Miss Customer, I'm 26 years old, and I don't have any children yet, but I'm not the issue here..."
Clearly not interested in whether I was relevant or not, she screamed (yes, screamed):
"If you had kids, you'd understand! You don't deserve to have children, and I hope you're never able to have any, you b*tch!!"
And then she hung up on me.

I was stunned. No-one has ever spoken to me like that in my life. Ever. Don’t get me wrong, I've been called some pretty horrible things during the course of my life, working or otherwise, and had some incredibly difficult confrontations/conversations, but no-one has ever been quite that unnecessarily personal and horrid to me.

So I burst into tears.

My Team (We are the Incredibles, because we are ace) are a bunch of lovely people and within 30 seconds one of them, M, had moved me gently away from my desk, given me a motherly cuddle, put me in a meeting room, fetched me espresso, water and tissues, alerted my team leader, who logged me out of my phone and then sent me outside to have a ciggy, under express instructions to not come back for 15minutes while things were sorted out. I got outside to find L (who is fierce and outspoken and doesn't normally speak to me) waiting with another cuddle and a cigarette and 2 minutes later, one of my Gay Boys J came bundling outside because he couldn't bear to see me cry and wanted to make sure I was OK. It was all rather overwhelming! Lovely, but overwhelming.

What had struck me, in that nano-second between the bang of the phone going down in my ear, and the tears, in a sort of strange rush was that I have a wonderful family, and what if, what if I couldn't give my parents a grand-child? Wouldn't that be a terrible shame? What if I never get the chance to be a great Mum like my own Mum?
It's odd. I'm 26 and I really don't want to have babies yet, but that was the first time ever in my life when I almost felt, intrinsically that I will know motherhood one day, and that no-one has the right to take that away from me. Those of you who've been reading my blog for a while will understand just how pertinent this event is to me.

In other, non-trauma related news, it’s sunny again in Brighton, so I’m off to the garden to have a BBQ with my housemates.

POO

I woke up at 10am this morning, 5 mins before I was due to leave for work.

I leaped out of bed and into my clothes.

I removed my makeup and reapplied new stuff.

I swept my hair into a fabulous plait at the back of my neck, and with that, stepped out of the door into the sunshine.

I was running 5 mins late, but I was doing well!

5 minutes later: *smack* (literally)

A fucking huge sea-gull did a poo on me.

On my head, my shoulders and my shoes.

I was 10 mins late for work, and I was covered in poo.

The Head Girl and The Firemen

I have just experienced quite the most satisfying verbal exchange in quite a long while:

As I made my way home about 10 minutes ago, I noticed a Fire Engine waiting at the lights as I crossed the road. I must at this point add that I like Firemen a lot - not just in a "hot-in-uniform" sort of way either, but in a "wow, you save lives and drive trucks with sirens" sort of way. They are cool.

As I reached the pavement parallel to them, I accidentally dropped a letter I had to post, and had to bend down to pick it up. This action caused my skirt to rise above my knee, exposing the shameful appearance of my stockings today.

One of the firemean shouted over:

"Oi, sweetheart, did you know you've got a ladder in your stockings?"

I replied, a little cockily:

"Actually, there's three!"

Not to be outdone, he came back with:

"Well, mine's bigger than yours!" (cue much laughter from the guys in the cab)

I was stunned. Yes, of course, your Fire Engine has a ladder which is easily, oooh, 100x bigger than the ones in my stockings. Normally, I would have just blushed and walked on, but no, the Power of Triple Espressos carried me through and with my most beguiling smile, I retorted:

"True. But you aren't climbing these ones!"

His co-Firemen all wooped at him, and I strutted off home, feeling a bit surprised, but rather smug.

The Nightdress Chronicles

I have been awake for all of 15 minutes and already I have a story worth blogging.

In the last week I have been outside in my nightdress TWICE at a most unsuitable time of day. I'm about to tell you why.

In the first one, you need to imagine me in a very long, floor-length if you will, white vintage linen nightdress with long sleeves and small buttons at the front and red and white stripy socks. It is late, around 2am and, vodka and skinny coke in one hand, everyone's favourite New Maldenite at my side (he currently clad in my finest EMINEM hoody), I ran off into the darkness with some vague notion of playing in the park near my house.

I must have looked like something from an Asian Horror Movie, all hair, pale skin and long white nightie.

Then you need to imagine that I am running around amongst trees picking miniature daffodils while NM laughs at me in a good natured way. Follow this with us skipping across the park to give said daffs to a pair of circus performers (or, indeed, "clowns") in exchange for them showing us their skills (or lack off in his case, leading to NM telling him he was a lying clown and couldn't juggle at all). NM played Frisbee with her and I got him to teach me "poi". That didn't really work cos they kept getting tangled and NM left the Frisbee miles away and got her to run after it. Then she tried to give me her shoes because I was only in my socks. Luckily, dear readers, they didn't seem to mind the pair of slightly insane people who were talking to them and we returned to the house unscathed to unsuccessfully attempt to make the video play some Eddie Izzard for us.

In the second, at 10.30 this morning, swap my Victorian attire for something far less suitable - a pale blue 1920's shift dress made of silk infact, low cut and strappy. Acessorise with last night's smudgy eyeliner and mussed up plaited hair. Perfect. I look a bit like a junkie.

The scene - the doorbell rings. There being no-one else in the house, I run downstairs thinking "Ooooh, the postman! Presents and pretty things!" So there I am, exiting the door to my flat, flipping the latch to keep me safe and running to the main front door to greet the postman, (who is indeed carrying a parcel and it does subsequently contain something rather amazing, but I digress) and as I open the huge ornate door, the wind rushes by me and oh cruel fate, oh cruel fate, oh shoddy workmanship, "BAM", the door to my flat slams.

Postman walks off, unaware that I am now trapped in the little corridor, no keys, no phone, wearing just a small excuse for a nightdress and clutching a large brown paper parcel.

What do I do?

I open the parcel.

I do a small dance of joy, and for a few seconds all is well. Then I put the contents down and cry a few hot tears of desperation as it is at this point that I realise my flatmate will be out until 5pm and that's a most decadent amount of time to stand around in your nightwear. Then I decide to go and see if the LandLady is in (bear in mind that we haven't made ourselves too welcome with her, but none-the-less, I must try!)

Cue me walking in the sunshine, a bunch of roadworkers gawping at me, through the street barefoot until I got to her and mercifully, she was there, saw the funny side, and gave me a spare key. I also had a lovely chat with her small son about him going to a party this afternoon (seriously, don't parents teach their kids not to talk to wide-eyed, slightly confused, sleepy looking strangers any more?)

And here I am! Returned safely to the sanctuary of my room to drink water and redbull, get dressed, dye my hair and decide what to do today, and dropping spare key off with LandLady - I might be going to London you see...to be honest, the day can only get better, and fuck it, the sun's out so I'm going to play in it....Have a lovely day everyone xxxxxx