The internet connection where I live now is shit. I can’t be bothered to compose a post,  lose it,  compose it again and so on – I don’t think my last post was lucid either because of this. So I shall take a little rest for a few days. Hope you are all well and doing the Christmassy thing with great relish.


Met up with BB yesterday. I didn’t tell him about the shenanigans with the landlord and the other bad stuff,  I just pretended everything was OK. I did tell him that I wasn’t feeling well last week though – this was after he asked for us to meet up and I was half homeless so I didn’t have anywhere for him to come visit and was extraordinarily knackered. I still am, hence the lack of posts, but I’m working on calming down and relaxing.  A feat that is proving to be extremely difficult, but lying in bed and thinking about nothing does help a lot.

We hanged around at ‘mine’, then he said what he said this other time. I agreed. Inwardly I wondered wether the first time I came across as wishy washy. Wether in his eyes I look desperate. And lonely. A girl a man goes out because he feels sorry for. But then men don’t do this kind of charity, only women do. Only women go out with men because they pity them, so maybe I shouldn’t feel so bad. But then again, who knows? It could all be in my head. He said we should be friends, but the added that we should take a break, then while parting he said he’d contact me so we could spend sometime together when he was completely available. Then, when it he was completely available it would work, not now.

“Sex doesn’t work with us. I can’t give you more…more time.”

I don’t know if I want more or not. I’m not sad. Even if he never contacts me again and was just saying that for the sake of saying it. I had a great time with him, a great learning/growing up time.

We had lunch, talked about Ikea, gassy coke,  how you can never go wrong with chips and listened to The Eagles on the way home. I have thought about this incident as I would normally do in my usual state of paranoia, but he’s like Fish now, someone I wouldn’t want to lose. I want him in my life, and unlike Fish, I would love to see him again and have the same great intimate times we had again. He started off someone I didn’t think very much of, but now I respect and look upto him a lot, probably too much.

I never thought I’d think or say this but BB is a good man, and yes he’s now going on that list in the tag. He also implored me not to be alone at Christmas. Saying if he didn’t have a lo of family dos to go to he would be with me but he can’t be available, so I should just jump at the chance if anyone invites me. I said that would be desperate, and I would be alright, but he insisted I shouldn’t be alone. Aaaaw…


There is this creepy children’s programme on  CBeebies called Waybuloo.  I came across it one morning when I  didn’t have anything to do in the house and all the other early morning programmes had nothing special to offer so I decided to watch some children’s TV. After the usual line up, it came up. I was multitasking; applying for jobs online while stealing the occasional glance at the telly. I first heard the weird chimes, and I thought, ‘What? Did I change the channel?’, then I looked up and saw these  colourful and  totally otherworldly crystals going round and round. I thought,’ Hang on a minute, is this CBeebies?’  Then the little people came up, creepily mumbling things. At this point I thought to myself that there was something inherently wrong about this but didn’t know what, so I continued watching it until I got to the part where they have their daily yoga sessions, they call it yogi in Waybuloo world. The little people encourage the children watching to get into position  and do the yogi too. What the hell?

I’m usually not one of those conspiracy theory types but surely there is an agenda behind this? The programme is just too ‘let’s get all hippy, meditate, chant and we shall achieve a peaceful state of mind’. And what does that remind you of? I thought children’s programmes are supposed to be secular? They should let them grow up and make up their own minds on religion that’s what I think. If I had little ones I would never let them watch this programme. But then again, maybe all the ‘progressive’ yummy mummies think this is cool. Anyway, even more creepy was the fact that on the day that I took a fall in the snow – I think it was the first and the heaviest snow day last week – there was a woman and her little girl walking behind me and she kept telling her to hurry up so that they could get home, be warm and watch Waybuloo.

‘We don’t want to miss Waybuloo, do we?’ she kept repeating this before lifting her up, and at this exact moment I fell and landed straight on my bum. There was a bloke in front of the woman – I hadn’t seen him earlier on, he rushed to help me up but I had managed to get myself up quickly enough so all he did was end up saying, ‘Be careful please,’ and off he went. The woman and her child then walked casually past me as I was dusting the snow off and got into a house four doors away.


I was going to blog about how the devil incarnate of a landlord harassed me over the weekend, how I took a fall in the snow, how I’ve had to move out, how I caught yet another cold and how today is the only day in about 10 that I’ve properly eaten, but I’ll do that in another post. Instead I’m going to  have a little rant about my father.


My dad is the most spineless man I’ve ever come across. Wimpish is a big understatement when defining him. I resent him very much for this, and off late my feelings have lingered dangerously on the hate scale. You can go crazy on the comments and tell me I have ‘daddy issues’ if you like.

But  listen to this: He has three properties abroad – properties which he wouldn’t have bought were it not for my mum constantly nagging him to make an investment. In fact she practically just got up one morning and stole a huge sum of money from his account and went to buy these properties. He didn’t speak to her for ages after this. Anyway, of the three properties, one is a three bedroom house in a  desirable area, where he could make a lot of money if he wanted, for a family to rent  or make it a holiday let. But no, he doesn’t see it that way. What’s happening instead? He’s let my uncle live there and run the place down. My uncle does not care about the property because it’s not his anyway. It’s like his little holiday retreat where he does everything and expects someone to pick his mess up for him, only there is no one to do that so the place is left in right state. He hasn’t kept up with the bills, or even paid the caretaker that was originally there for ages, he chooses instead to stay away partying and living it up. Ever since we learnt about this, all my father has done is complain but not do a single thing. He remains silent. I mean who the fuck does this? Whenever my mum talks directly to this useless uncle of mine, he promises he’ll sort things out, but he doesn’t! I’ve told my dad for the past one year to get out there and kick some arse. For fuck’s sake if it means throwing the man naked out in the streets in the middle of the night, do it! No he can’t. He worries instead what his families and friends will think of him. Yes, laugh with me please. My dad’s sole purpose in life is to impress people and to look good or wealthy in front of others. This makes me very angry because most of our relatives don’t care about us, especially when they know we are cash-strapped. They just want to take, not give. They don’t even communicate enough with my parents, especially since the financial situation started – when they do it’s usually to show off. So why in the world would he care about what any one of them thought? Are his relatives, friends, and more annoyingly, his ‘status’ important than the welfare of his children? Or his children’s inheritance? I don’t get it, what kind of man is this? The kind of man who complains about the living costs of his daughter at uni because he thinks that money could have been spent on something else, like buying a flashy car. Where did this type of man come from? I’m finding it really hard to  believe I share the same DNA as this man. A father is supposed to be responsible. And aren’t parents supposed to walk to the ends of the earth for their children? So why this selfishness?

It doesn’t help matters that when things are bad, he thinks he’s the only one suffering. He thinks he’s the only one stressed about the money situation. He thinks he’s the only one not having enough to save or spend. It’s always about me, me, me. Everyone should feel sorry for him. My mum should drop what she’s doing and baby him. He’s got this way of eating at your spirit that is so exhausting I can’t take it anymore. I’m not the parent here, he’s the parent. He’s capable and able-bodied, I will not suffer in the name of pandering to his needs. I simply refuse to suffer because it’s avoidable. Because I want to live well. Because I don’t want to have someone who can not so much as think creatively for himself, who wants every decision to be made for him. I’m too young for that.

I actually really, hand on heart, feel very sorry for my poor mother for marrying such a man. I do not regret saying that here. If I was going to post everything about how my mother has suffered being with my father, I’d never stop typing. It’s almost as if she had 3 children instead of 2.

I mean, by God, I don’t  want a man like my father in my life. Never. I will not so much as glance at one.


You know those statements that people make wishing for somebody to die? I presume 99.999 of people don’t ever mean anything, literally, but  today I  want my landlord to die. Really. I wish he would have a heart attack in the toilet or fall down the stairs, and his wife to follow suit,  from a heart attack too or shock.

Or maybe a big snow boulder. I want a big snow boulder to fall on their house at night and kill them all.

Or something. I don’t know, armed robbers, car accident in the snowy roads.

I am so angry I don’t feel anything, even the cold :-‘( . Aaaaargh…