Thursday 26 June 2008
Wednesday 25 June 2008
chores
Do you have loud neighbours, that play excessively loud music and turn up the base? Who party until 4am then wake you up at 10am to their loud music again, probably as they're cleaning and/or just being selfish, obnoxious, disrespectful?
That's merely a backdrop to what we deal with in our flat block. There is a flat that plays music tediously loudly, which drives Chris and I on to our high horses, of which we comment that we're stand-up citizens with courtesy for the people around up.
Last night, being a Tuesday night, at about 9.30pm we hear some loud noises. I'm trying to focus to figure out what the song is and I think I hear Air. But then it becomes louder and it's Radiohead. Oh perfect, noisy flat (as we refer to) are having some kind of party on a Tuesday. Chris goes on saying that if they can afford to live in our flat block, they must have decent jobs and are clearly playing music this loudly, like being in school halls, as some sort of twenty-something rebellion, with the exact words as 'pathetic' used. I say that beside noisy flat is a flat with I believe two children, who are probably going to bed about now, how unfair to those children, their parents.
"Alright, I get it, you like OK Computer". I shout that out after about half an hour later, music still blasting. Chris and I make further judgmental comments how we would never do this, play music this loudly, with the base turned up, it waffles our flat nearly. But then I stop. And I think for just a second.
Oh right, Radiohead are playing Victoria Park about a mile away from us. UGH....we have transformed into old people, mean people who sit around saying nasty, judgmental things about people. But it's actually Radiohead. And yes, Radiohead obviously do like OK Computer.
Then I kept saying how I wish we had tickets to Wednesday night. I have become my own worst nightmare.
That's merely a backdrop to what we deal with in our flat block. There is a flat that plays music tediously loudly, which drives Chris and I on to our high horses, of which we comment that we're stand-up citizens with courtesy for the people around up.
Last night, being a Tuesday night, at about 9.30pm we hear some loud noises. I'm trying to focus to figure out what the song is and I think I hear Air. But then it becomes louder and it's Radiohead. Oh perfect, noisy flat (as we refer to) are having some kind of party on a Tuesday. Chris goes on saying that if they can afford to live in our flat block, they must have decent jobs and are clearly playing music this loudly, like being in school halls, as some sort of twenty-something rebellion, with the exact words as 'pathetic' used. I say that beside noisy flat is a flat with I believe two children, who are probably going to bed about now, how unfair to those children, their parents.
"Alright, I get it, you like OK Computer". I shout that out after about half an hour later, music still blasting. Chris and I make further judgmental comments how we would never do this, play music this loudly, with the base turned up, it waffles our flat nearly. But then I stop. And I think for just a second.
Oh right, Radiohead are playing Victoria Park about a mile away from us. UGH....we have transformed into old people, mean people who sit around saying nasty, judgmental things about people. But it's actually Radiohead. And yes, Radiohead obviously do like OK Computer.
Then I kept saying how I wish we had tickets to Wednesday night. I have become my own worst nightmare.
Sunday 22 June 2008
fahrenheit
I've made peace with unemployment; one part Aristotelian stoicism; two parts Summer Olympics and being able to watch all the coverage; three parts Wimbledon starting tomorrow. Also I won't have to spend £95 on a monthly travel. I do feel positive for September but I never knew the stress and ulcers that can be caused for being a citizen of the world. I didn't think of myself as the 'corporate ladder' girl or even a career seeking but as soon as it's quickly stripped away, it just became insanely Joni Mitchell.
And now I'm staring at my room sideways, alone, in pjs, and was scrolling through past pictures on Facebook of my old elementary school, being annoyingly nostalgic, cold hands which are causing frustrating typos, on tip toes trying to play vinyl, next trying to figure out Chris' demented turn-table that evidently can start automatically itself, listening to the Black Lips, have spoken with my mother already twice this weekend. Once during job hell, other during hell of my own creation. i.e. Friday afternoon, fire alarm goes off whilst I am playing Pez via Wii internet thingy on Maria Kart. Alarm has now been buzzing for about 7 minutes, Chris' mum calls and I speak with her whilst juggling Wii remote and race. Decide that I should maybe investigate this alarm, open my flat door and see half my flatblock running outside, panic, swear, throw on my shoes, start searching for my bloody keys, which are of course hidden under paper (bureaucratic nightmare), grab my phone, run on to our outdoor hallway balcony, I start shaking. Go to the door to run down the stairs, smoke then billows out, and I'm stuck. I see people on the upper deck, completely unphased, I call Chris, he's nearly home. There are 4 fire brigades, an ambulance and countless police cars blocking off the street. Chris arrives, tells me to go down the fire escape (I clearly lose all logic when it comes to a crisis...), then we chat with our neighbour, I see I left our kitchen window open (fire 101, elementary school fire drills: 1st tip- close the windows), panic. We grab a drink at our old man pub across the road, Broadway market crazy comes and sits at our table, when then accuses Chris of thinking she was trying to steal his bag because he moved seats to sit next to me, I calm her down, the fill her mobile phone with a paper voucher, drink a white wine, leave one sip, for Broadway market crazy to ask if she can have it, I oblige, she then spits it back into the glass saying it's the worst thing she's ever tasted (doubt to be true).
Then for the rest of the weekend, I've been milking sympathy and just attention-seeking, reminiscing to Chris 'how I died in a fire'. Supremely lucid thoughts are penetrating through now. I think this two month gap is where both of our dreams can come true; lots of editing.
And now I'm staring at my room sideways, alone, in pjs, and was scrolling through past pictures on Facebook of my old elementary school, being annoyingly nostalgic, cold hands which are causing frustrating typos, on tip toes trying to play vinyl, next trying to figure out Chris' demented turn-table that evidently can start automatically itself, listening to the Black Lips, have spoken with my mother already twice this weekend. Once during job hell, other during hell of my own creation. i.e. Friday afternoon, fire alarm goes off whilst I am playing Pez via Wii internet thingy on Maria Kart. Alarm has now been buzzing for about 7 minutes, Chris' mum calls and I speak with her whilst juggling Wii remote and race. Decide that I should maybe investigate this alarm, open my flat door and see half my flatblock running outside, panic, swear, throw on my shoes, start searching for my bloody keys, which are of course hidden under paper (bureaucratic nightmare), grab my phone, run on to our outdoor hallway balcony, I start shaking. Go to the door to run down the stairs, smoke then billows out, and I'm stuck. I see people on the upper deck, completely unphased, I call Chris, he's nearly home. There are 4 fire brigades, an ambulance and countless police cars blocking off the street. Chris arrives, tells me to go down the fire escape (I clearly lose all logic when it comes to a crisis...), then we chat with our neighbour, I see I left our kitchen window open (fire 101, elementary school fire drills: 1st tip- close the windows), panic. We grab a drink at our old man pub across the road, Broadway market crazy comes and sits at our table, when then accuses Chris of thinking she was trying to steal his bag because he moved seats to sit next to me, I calm her down, the fill her mobile phone with a paper voucher, drink a white wine, leave one sip, for Broadway market crazy to ask if she can have it, I oblige, she then spits it back into the glass saying it's the worst thing she's ever tasted (doubt to be true).
Then for the rest of the weekend, I've been milking sympathy and just attention-seeking, reminiscing to Chris 'how I died in a fire'. Supremely lucid thoughts are penetrating through now. I think this two month gap is where both of our dreams can come true; lots of editing.
Thursday 19 June 2008
permiable
I've just reached a pinnacle stage in my life where I think that I'm actually younger than my parents believe.
I was speaking with my dad on the phone on Sunday and we were discussing some of my friends having babies, and his assistant who is around 21 just having a baby as well and I said 'how would you feel if I was pregnant now?' which I thought was a moderately uneasy question which would cause a bit of panic but he responded 'you're 23, I know that you would be able to take care of baby and be a good mother'. I was shocked. My dad now thinks that I am old enough to have a child and in fact nearly condones it. I personally don't feel ready at all to have a baby even though my maternal instinct is in hyper-drive.
Next, I am going through some turmoil at work as my work visa has currently run out and we're seeking sponsorship however I've had to take a leave of absence and therefore will not be earning over the next few months, that is if this sponsorship can actually come through. Yesterday, quite traumatic however I came home and spoke with my mum who said to just get married. And I replied 'don't you think I'm too young to get married?' and her response true to my parental conform was 'you're 23 and in a loving relationship, you've lived with your boyfriend for a year and a half and intend to get married anyway, what difference does it make if you do it now at city hall then in a few years have a proper wedding ceremony?'
My ultimate question that I doubt I'll ever be able to answer is when did I grow up? Apparently now there really isn't anything that could shock my parents. If I came home and said I was pregnant it would be joyous and if I was married, it would be wonderful. It just seems a bit odd to me. Well I am out of work in the UK for at least 2 months so I"ll have plenty of time to think about it.
I was speaking with my dad on the phone on Sunday and we were discussing some of my friends having babies, and his assistant who is around 21 just having a baby as well and I said 'how would you feel if I was pregnant now?' which I thought was a moderately uneasy question which would cause a bit of panic but he responded 'you're 23, I know that you would be able to take care of baby and be a good mother'. I was shocked. My dad now thinks that I am old enough to have a child and in fact nearly condones it. I personally don't feel ready at all to have a baby even though my maternal instinct is in hyper-drive.
Next, I am going through some turmoil at work as my work visa has currently run out and we're seeking sponsorship however I've had to take a leave of absence and therefore will not be earning over the next few months, that is if this sponsorship can actually come through. Yesterday, quite traumatic however I came home and spoke with my mum who said to just get married. And I replied 'don't you think I'm too young to get married?' and her response true to my parental conform was 'you're 23 and in a loving relationship, you've lived with your boyfriend for a year and a half and intend to get married anyway, what difference does it make if you do it now at city hall then in a few years have a proper wedding ceremony?'
My ultimate question that I doubt I'll ever be able to answer is when did I grow up? Apparently now there really isn't anything that could shock my parents. If I came home and said I was pregnant it would be joyous and if I was married, it would be wonderful. It just seems a bit odd to me. Well I am out of work in the UK for at least 2 months so I"ll have plenty of time to think about it.
Monday 16 June 2008
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