Wednesday, 29 September 2010

The Cow of Wisdom

My mother sent me a card the other day which reads like this:

Whenever you're uncertain
And you don't know what to do
The cow of wisdom always answers
Just chill out... and MOO

Right.

So this morning I was stood in my room after Becca and Plum had gone to lectures and I'm not joking, I was this close, THIS close to just standing there and MOOING.
Decisions, decisions. Oh, rar x

Friday, 17 September 2010

WHY AREN'T I DULL?

Was just looking at jobs in Belfast for when I go back, they all look shit, I won't be around long enough to please any employer...
I only wanted to wax my legs.
Someone please come along and make me bland and uncrazy so shelf-stacking can commence without mental risk rar, ah rah RAH.
Urgh no I really DON'T want a job, razor will have to do.

Friday, 3 September 2010

Tuesday, 10 August 2010

The Big Chill

I have just got back from the Big Chill festival in Eastnor Park, near Herefordshire.
I had the time of my life.
I would never recommend going to a festival with people you know.
I have met some of the most crazy, liberated and inspiring people ever, all in one weekend.
I am also so happy now right you may feel sick.
Ugh - sickly happy! Arah rah rah xX

Wednesday, 14 July 2010

I wonder if Roger is still alive.

During my first year of A-Level music, we had this teacher called Roger. He was really random, and I think we learned more about life than music in his lessons. A particular quote from Roger was this: 'You always get what you want. Your subconscious rightfully determines what energies, experiences, and people you attract - therefore, the only foolproof way to know what you want is to see what you have. There are no victims, only students'.

Now, I remember sitting in his lesson when he said this, right next to the guy I proper proper PROPER fancied. The quote seemed like a load of bullshit at the time because I wanted this guy but I was quite sure I couldn't have him because there was no way I was ever going to let him know and he was shy too so we were probably NEVER going to say anything even if he did like me and maybe I was OK back then because I had finally managed to get contact lenses and it was in a nice acne free/ underweight/ unaware of gapped teeth because I hadn't met Gina zone but he probably knew I was pale underneath all that fake tan and I was convinced nothing could hide my nose or that funny football-head-inducing bone structure so whatever, anyway...

I guess I really WAS a student. Not a victim, a student. I cannot begin to say how much more I have learned since then. Roger also went on to say that 'a lesson is repeated until learned. It is presented to you in various forms until you learn it - then you can go on to the next lesson'. Now I have really had a big fat think about what it is I really DO want, and I think what I want has changed.

Back then, it's highly likely that I wanted the chase more than the catch, 9-5 A-Levels at college Monday to Friday, a job in a restaurant all day Saturday, a job in a posh department store on a Sunday so I had enough money to go out Wednesday Friday Saturday gym membership hey let's try some drugs get wasted piano lessons driving lessons drink cider before college spray tans manicures pedicures poker straight hair the single life high heels take pills don't come home 'til 10am busy busy busy all the time MUST be busy all the time work play laugh social life but make sure you're still a prude.

Suddenly it was all heart broken quit your jobs what is this acne weight gain too stressed too busy why can't I learn to drive like everyone else don't want to wear make-up any more gives me bad skin must go T-total alcohol gives me bad skin oh I'll go vegetarian too because meat gives me bad skin too no more drugs ever again all right before I go on a girl's holiday to Zante where there will be so much meat and alcohol ha ha get a place at Leeds uni and drop out after 1 day take an unplanned gap year work at Shoe Zone Castle Hill School Elland Golf Club Texas Chicken and don't last long at any of these jobs because you are a neurotic rebel yes yes indeed defo start drinking again ooh roast beef yes please fail piano diploma fail driving tests fail diet.

Too much failure have to get away from this place ooh Ireland ooh Anthropology let's not think about it beforehand I'm going I don't give a shit I'm not dropping out this time see ya bye never coming back well maybe I will and immediately another year has passed and it's summer 2010 and I'm wondering what I'm going to do with my life but I don't mind even though I'm finding it hard to get over the fact that I really am a bum at the moment with only driving lessons on my to do list.

However, none of this would have happened if I had just taken a look at what I 'had' at the time. I have decided that for a long time all I have wanted is security, to be adored, to feel safe, someone to talk bollocks with. This has been available to me since the earlier part of that beasty gap year... I've got contact lenses, sometimes I just wonder if I'm using them. Chasing after BOYS (because by no means were they men) who treat you like trash? Nah.

My mind has been clear for a few months now, thank cheese and bread. Finally, someone who loves me for me. FINALLY, as we realise it's not about looks in the SLIGHTEST. We are born the way we are, didn't choose to be born that way as Roger also said: 'You will receive a body. You may like it or hate it, but it's the only thing you are sure to keep for the rest of your life'. Cheerz Rog. Everyone's different... tis just a quest.

I do have to regularly remind myself of these things. Repetition... just like how I learn to do a reverse park. Hmm. Must also remember this: 'If you don't learn easy lessons, they get harder. External problems are a precise reflection of your internal state. When you clear inner obstructions, your outside world changes. Pain is how the universe gets your attention'.

Oh, hmmm! Definitely another coping mechanism alert.
Another repeated note to self: Everything happens for a reason. Damn to the fucking right!

Tuesday, 22 June 2010

But it burnt my bum!

Got a little fed up of paying £12.99 to sit out in the sun only to stay as white as milk. So I made sure that, today, I slowly shortened my life for four blissful hours on the burn baby burn baby burn baby...
I don't care that I'm fantastically burnt, in all-sorts of rather odd places. But it will tan, p-ray - even if there is a red mark on my back in the shape of a wonky diamond.

Burnt answer? Skin cancer!

Also, persistence works.
After spending at least a year saying NO. Absolutely not. Jog on. Move out. Pack up. Give over. Hush your gums...
I have said yes.
Guess that's sometimes the way things turn out.

:). Is all.

Monday, 14 June 2010

Minor injury. Or... minors... and injuries.

Download with Gen was fantastic. She has the sweetest boyfriend ever, also - such a GENT. I spotted a metal bar on the floor. He did too, but whilst I just thought "What the fuck is that?", he picked it straight up and gave it into security, in case someone got hurt. Sweet!

Yes the festival was good. Of course I missed Rage, the band I actually went to see. I'm not even shocked about this, it could only happen to yours truly, I accept.

Looking on the bright side - I met two lovely girls on the way home who were suffering with the same problem... either miss Rage and get the last train home or see Rage and sleep in a bin somewhere on the outskirts of the festival due to tight security denying any access to the campsite. Since I wasn't on drugs, I didn't fancy sleeping anywhere other than my own bed. GAY.

That aside, I am now covered in a few pretty medium-sized heart-shaped bruises from a rather excited mosh-pit. After a couple of punches, I felt it would be time to get another beer or maybe even score some medicine during a performance by Deftones. So I told Gen I'd see her soon, thinking it wouldn't be too hard to get through the crowd.

I never saw Gen again! My judgement was obviously WAY too sober. How was I so sober?! In fact, the crowd was even WORSE further back, and in the end I just gave up and rolled on the floor with the rest of them, successfully taking a few people with me as I whacked my arse into the air. The last time I was in a mosh-pit like that involved a couple of E's and my naive 16-year-old query of "What's a 'mosh-pit'?" as a response to Carl's warning of "Watch out for the mosh-pit!!" I soon found out.

DEFINITELY GETTING A WEEKEND TICKET NEXT YEAR AND SHALL BAKE OODLES OF BUNS - SHOULD NOT HAVE REMEMBERED WHERE THOSE BRUISES CAME FROM.

What else has happened since I've been back in the dazzlingly exciting town of Huddersfield? Well, there's a job going at the laundrette and Poundworld. In fact, I'm spoilt for choice since there's another job going for cleaning the bus station toilets. 3 whole job vacancies in the entire town! Wow! Lack of jobs? Not from what I can see.

I've been shedding away the rest of my student loan on driving lessons, also. Sadly, I have had to move my test date to August due to driving down the ring road in the incorrect direction and not realising this, ahem, MINOR error even when the steering wheel was being terrifyingly wrenched from my grasp. I thought he was trying to kill me... but it turns out he probably thought the same thing about... me.

Further to the more, my Great Auntie Margaret phoned me up this morning:

"Ayup Katie ow ya doin'? Listen, a need sum 'elp, a need a trolley or sumat! Ahv got too much stuff lyin' around an am avin ter eat ma food outta tha sink. An a can't bend down ter get tha newspaper, so a was wonderin' if a give yer sum bus fare..."

I am HOME.

Wednesday, 9 June 2010

Suck Cess.

I wasn't really sure these days about how to define success, but I got talking to an old friend the other day and the way she has managed to land directly on her feet has shown me exactly how to define success.

She's doing a degree in Events Management, works a million hours in Sainsburys, will be doing a £7 an hour placement as part of her degree next year, passed her driving test recently and already saved enough to get a nice car. Oh, and she just got a lovely boyfriend.

So in I roll from a couple of months fannying around in Belfast to find all these incredibly straight-backed, non-anthropological people working working working away... the Huddersfield ethic I never seemed to manage to grab hold of.
You wouldn't catch them dancing around a pretend bull wearing feathers on their heads anyway.

So I looked up prospects for people with Anthropology degrees today in a relaxed panic (SHIT, I have forgotten to take my Driving Test Related Kalms after lunch)...

Community Health & Public Relations. This is the area I am aiming for. I could still be a music therapist yet. But one thing's for sure... the next part-time job I get I really need to stick to. "Yer a wirkin' man now son."

Wednesday, 2 June 2010

So long!

Here are the initials of some very special people who I didn't know one year ago today. These same people have made my year, without a doubt.

A-CM(sex) AE(inspiration) AF(bon) BP(fifteens) C7(everyone) CH(real) CR(cider) DK(jazz) EW(bam) GB(cider) GM(chillin') GM(pater) GR(boat) HD(sex) IF(marina) JK(globalization) JM(alcohol) JW(marina) LJ(tennis?) LP(genovia) LP(bristol) MR(marina) MB(tescos) NE(sniff) O1(insane) PB(squire) PC(lol) RK(banter) SH(ethno-hig) SR(eyeyy) WC(sniff)

If your initial is not there it either means I don't like you or I actually forgot you - how dire.

Yeah yeah, you KNOW what my initials would be... KW(poo) OK, OK, I get the joke, now let's just leave that and the fact that this blog is simply here to hide the previous blog. Did I ACTUALLY post that as a blog? Apparently I did.

But that aside, I'm serious guys - I'm going to miss you all so much! You all mean so much to me - I have never met people so strangely interesting and beautifully marvellous as your fine selves.

I am shedding a little tear as I write this.

So, yeah... fare to the well... good to the bye... see to the yah... au to the revoir... so to the long. Until the next time, you chunks of brie in a box of dairy lea... flakes of gold in a piece of shit... butterflies in a swamp of frogs...

I do love you.

Saturday, 29 May 2010

Waffles for breakfast.

Lo, there sits a bottle of Glen's on my desk. Please Katie, no health plans YET.
Yes yes, oh yay - I sense a massive 'self-overhaul' coming my way, and I KNEW this would happen the day after I announced that I ought to become a chain smoker.

Thirsty, so thirsty... but one cannot be bothered to reach for the tap all the way over to the other side of this box room.

However, the mood today is chipper, which I think translates as 'happy', which is EXACTLY what I am due to good things like marvellous friends and sugar highs. But I don't want to suddenly announce that I'm T-total when there's a massive bottle of vodka aching to be consumed. Besides, I need to be able to drink on Monday so I can have an excuse for crying with my anthropological people for the last time before we all disappear for TOO LONG.

I'm going to miss them just about the same as words can say.
OK, more than words can say.

However, one thing I am DESPERATE to return home for is proper food. I got sick of my terrible cookery skills weeks ago and have been living off rice with kidney beans, oodles of plums and copious amounts of OATS for as long as this whole university business has been going on.
I have even carried out a funeral service for my utensils, now buried in my wardrobe, of all places... due to their sedentary lifestyle.
Food issues have hit a total low this week. Breakfast this morning consisted of:

Someone Else's Opened-for-a-while All-Bran sprinkled on
My Porridge
Someone Else's Raspberry & Cookie Ice cream
Someone Else's Chunky Oven Chips
Someone Else's Shite Oven Chips
My Own Thirty Eight Pence Gone Off Lettuce
Someone Else's Potato Waffles I Intend To Eat Later
BREAKFAST?! Break fast? More like, Die Slow!

I would love to make up for this by informing you all that last night was so much healthier. We were blessed with whiskey, cigars, vodka... my, I even had some cherry beer.

I am now sat in front of my dusty laptop, listening to tacky 90s disco music, thinking about my latest realisation: I am somewhat lacking in generosity.

Last night, Rory was carrying some poker chips and playing cards around in a shite carrier bag. His bag split, and he was all "Oh, oh, I don't want to be carrying this round with me all night!"
I was about to say "Shut the fuck up, why can't you just get a proper bag?" At the same time, I was reminded of myself in Geneva when I carried round a co-op bag for almost the entire week, until Kind Emma offered me a delicious hand-bag to borrow.
Also at the same time that I was thinking about this occasion, Kind Emma chipped in once again and immediately offered to carry Rory's broken bag for him.
"I was hoping someone would say that!" Said Rory.
"OMFG" Thought I.

It didn't even cross my mind that the guy would want his stuff carried for him, and I don't think it ever WOULD cross my mind!
But I made a decision then and there to Be A Good Person From Now On.

About five minutes later, I found a ten pound note on the floor in the beer tent.
I didn't tell anyone. A thought crossed my mind that I should buy drinks for my dear friends, but I thought, nah.

NAH?!

And do you want to know what I spent that tenner on?? A bottle of vodka for MYSELF!
Now, I know we are all supposed to love ourselves for who we really are and all that, even our bad bits... but I'll have to get back to you on the issue of loving the fact that I am a total skank.

This brings me back to a conversation I had with Sam Chappell, which ended with him telling me to "always look out for number one". He gave me a load of reasons as to why, but I've forgotten them now, as I usually forget any points I intend to make to aid any non-existent argument I may be putting forward.

Just like the occasional health kicks/ mood swings/ drug binges that come my way, I do move through the occasional phase of intense generosity - and I am hoping that one may come along soon. If it's going to make an appearance, it will have to come naturally, since (as I have been banging on for most of my life now) nothing I ever do can be forced, otherwise it just comes out all wrong. Just like that Josephides accent I managed to keep up for about five days - which only serves to make me laugh these days (no offense to J.Phides of course, I refer to my own voice here).

No wonder I was jealous of Kind Emma for a short while. No wonder I was jealous of Inspirational Gina for an even longer while...
But now I look up to them both as beautiful examples of what I really could be if I could just let go of... selfish beast within.

Becca: "Katie, your eyes look GREEN today!"

Jeez, with envy?

Just another part of the onion. But at least we have one thing to work with: Honesty.
You guys seriously mean a lot to me! Good morning <3 x

Wednesday, 26 May 2010

Chestnut Seven, Ground Floor, Room 11.

Philippa and Julie and Jess and Laura and Donagh and Two Unidentifiable Girls were taking photos outside of my window because Philippa is leaving tomorrow morning so I stuck my head out of my window and yelled

"HEY, I HAVE BEEN A MAJOR PART OF THIS FLAT ALL YEAR"

I have been a part of this flat for about three weeks at the start of semester 1 actually, but because I love them all dearly and will miss them terribly I was NOT going to miss out on cheesy photo time even though I was make-upless and shiny as a patent shoe (despite new 'non-greasy' suncream, which IS better than The One I Shall Not Name so: complaint not).

But I'm serious, I am going to miss them, and currently feel like shedding a tear for the brief encounters I have had with these fine specimens in the kitchen or on the way to the bog.

In fact, I love every single person in Chestnut 7, & I have been blessed with the fact that my key card let me in to all the floors, even though this got me accused of many thieving activities by the crazy but marvellous boys from the 1st floor, who actually ended up stealing MY green washing up brush.

Movies/Singstar with the top floor, Nadine's fag breaks and the time that guy pissed against my window also wonderful.

Ah, I'm so glad I moved to Ireland. It's been such a top year - even beats that year I worked at Shoe Zone.

Would I live in halls again? NO.

Saturday, 22 May 2010

I am an onion.

You know the way so many people have some degree of emotional problems they don't know how to deal with... and the way they cover the problems up is by layering a million defense layers over them like the layers of an onion?

I am such a frigging onion.

One day I hope to attend one of those sessions I have read so much about where your onion layers get peeled down until you're all fresh and clean and happy and ready to love again.

Must. Learn. To. Accept. Self. As. Not. Everyone. Is. Meant. To. Be. A. Rake.
Stop being so scared of humiliation, because if you're not prepared to take the risk of a let down then you may NEVER KNOW what might have happened and you may be LONELY for a very long time.
Also, you may end up with a complete prick who has complete control over you because you never had the courage to lead and instead you chose to be led.

In fact, I am such an onion I can't see through my layers to even have the slightest idea why I am so afraid of... men?

Well, the advice of tonight is that if you like someone you should tell them. If I had done this three years ago I might have been happily married, sat in some pub in Huddersfield not bothering to take a degree in asking why.
Instead, feelings were never exchanged and ridiculous cover-up schemes were planned on my behalf so the guy I wanted to get with wouldn't know that I liked him.
I'll make that one clear shall I? Yes:

I liked a guy, but no way was I going to let him know. Ever.
WHERE'S THE SENSE IN THAT?

Fear of rejection is where the sense is. But this needs to end or else the same thing is likely to happen again and again and AGAIN until I am an old lady nursing eighty-five cats and oodles of mental health medication to boot.

I'm actually serious - the realization hit me like a big fat garamut slit-gong some time this afternoon as I was walking through Lagan Meadows, dying in the heat:

I HAVE NEVER HAD A BOYFRIEND. I AM NEARLY TWENTY.
WHY, do I never say yes when I am asked out, & WHY, do I never let anyone know that I like them?

Something needs to be sorted regarding the way I'm going about all this stuff because it seems to me that this trait I have is not proving very useful.
But HALT... one second... do I actually WANT a 'relationship'?
Oh goodness: I don't know.

But life will go on and tomorrow I will be back to normal, doing normal things like eating without a plate and thinking normal thoughts like 'imagine if that plane suddenly falls out of the sky - I hope Christie's not in it just in case'.

Well... I shouldn't set deadlines but I am momentously concerned that if I haven't met anyone by the age of 25 then I'm just going to start hopelessly rolling around on the ground, a failure to society.

Don't be so silly, girl! Get your act together right? Maybe take a leaf out of the book of those friends of yours that you think are so 'big-headed' - they have clearly got the knack, guys are flocking around their holy wrath, and it's not even about looks here.

It's not that much about looks, grr... please take note, Katie's ego!

lolz u silly over-sensitive little dexterous onion, u!

Friday, 21 May 2010

Nearly out of suncream.

Thank Dog. That Banana Boat Baby Block Factor 50 has been making my face look like a week old chip pan. Or a fried egg with no yolk but with extra watered-down ketchup to compensate.
I digress!
But, I am ever so pleased that the suncream has nearly come to the end of the tube, ironically on the first day when I might have actually needed to use it for about an hour. Sometimes I think I might as well just go out and frazzle like a fat old football fan.
I'm sure there are worse things than having dodgy skin, even if we are close to 'Teenage Years Effectively Ruined' stage. Welcome to ten more years of raging adult acne? Don't even think about it, Mr DNA.
But anyway, if anyone can inform me of anything that is factor 20 or above that won't make me want to cut my own head off with a bread knife then let me know. Otherwise I'm just going for Uvistat which always WAS a winner... don't know why I don't just stick to trusty things that actually WORK.

The good news: Ethno exam is over. I am glad about this, but as usual I am more concerned about the ol' suncream issue.

Anything else?

Well, I'm currently listening to some really chavvy music on Lastfm, & I am enjoying it. It reminds me of being in one of those gyms where there are no mirrors and you just ran for 5 minutes and you think you're a rake because there are no mirrors and you just ran for 5 minutes. 'Love inc. - You're a superstar'.

The blessing of the day is that I finally threw the rest of those seafood sticks (cheap fifty pence initiation of a 'crab stick') in to thee TRASH CAN. However, some cretin has used my cheese spread, inserting some unidentifiable red substance which resulted in grand mould growth... So that went in the bin too.

I bought loads of Muller yogurts, ate loads of Shreddies, vacuumed up a spider... you know, another one of those days in my life which was a day further away from the day I was born and a day closer to the day when I pack it in. Ho ho ho.
Felt pretty bad about the spider though... think the whole of Elms heard me scream in terror.

Yeah, so... that's it really. Merry Christmas babe x

(Just thought I'd send my boyfriend seasonal wishes five years in advance - love ya baby lolz. LOOKING FORWARD TO MEETING YOU. I HOPE YOU'RE NOT A WANKER... actually I sincerely hope you're not a banker either, considering The Millionaire & The Murder Mansion I watched last night on 4od. SICK.)

Wednesday, 19 May 2010

This guy farted.

Today I was sitting in my room and this guy was stood outside my room and he was smoking a fag and he farted.

Tuesday, 18 May 2010

Ode to Gina

This blog was inspired by a lovely girl named Gina McCune. I'm not entirely sure if there is a space between 'Mc' and 'Cune' but I'm sure Gina won't mind. You should view her blog on http://ginamccune.blogspot.com. She is a very talented writer, and her blog covers many marvellous matters.
I, on the other hand, have some rather contrasting... 'unintentional intentions'. I have no honest idea as to why I'm writing a blog.
Well, that's enough for today. Time for some more muesli.