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

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.

Ahoy

Call the cops

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

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!

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.

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.