Happy Halloween!!

I hope everyone has a scare-tastic Halloween, since I'm not doing anything. Nothing! No trick or treating, or giving sweets to trick or treators (apparently no one opens doors round here) I was supposed to go to a gay halloween party bash in East London but in the end I couldn't be arsed.

Right now I'm listening to Kate Bush's King of the Mountain, which I think is a good mystic morning to kick off your Halloween morning. It's not as if any mysticism will following me round. I still have seven pieces of homework. It's not as if I didn't try, I just couldn't do it, bah. Right now I would love some genuine weirdness in my life to confuse things in the fun sense, but we'll see, eh?

In the meantime...

If I Was a Tea Cosy...

I've just had a very good day - I'm stuffed full with twinkies, mountain dew, Hershey cookies and cream and jelly beans of every flavour (and I mean every flavour) I love celebrating birthdays, especially when he's the "No-matter-I'll-pay-for-everything-and-I-mean-it!" The most Gentlemanly guy I've ever known - I mean, he is the perfect man... 18 years old, knows the address of every chocolate shop in London , knows posh food, good films and has a cracking sense of humour (obviously...)

I've been eating crap all day and I feel for it, snapping off the bulumia stick for a day. At home, round the corner there's been a car crash by the church and a person has died, but I didn't see anything, so I can't say anything. Me and Dad treated ourselves to Brandy Snaps, ice cream and honey for desert, and I have a stray triple chocolate cookie nearby, hmmmmmmm. Dad is watching the newly discovered Audi channel on digital TV, if only to find if it really is just an advertising channel, cos I've never seen those before. He's been watching it for an hour, so I have to go and retrieve him and finish this post later. And I will! For the meantime, ask yourself this:

1. What's your opinion on garlic? Especially mixing garlic and chocolate together?
2. Have you heard of an Ipod cosy?
3. How morally incompetent is it to talk to your best friend's ex-boyfriend (who you really enjoyed talking to) when she told you not to? (sorry ria)

Absenteeism

I've been reading over my blog the last few days forgetting that its mine and it's been since I've updated it, since I do have things to talk about. There's a cute Welsh girl involved, some childish romance games between friends of mine and general mindfuckery and book speculation. Maybe it's because I have too much homework. I'd finish off this post but its 1.21 in the morning and the cute welsh girl is going to mention my name on national radio tomorrow morning. Being unawake is not an option. Will finish!

Adjourned, 1.22 am 22 nd October (why is it nearly the 11th hour of 2005?)

I could cry. I've just spent the best part of two hours conducting this, and I lost it because I clicked on spell check!!!! I'm never going to get this post done. That is evil!

I met a cute welsh girl on South West trains. We got attracted to each other because we both had notebooks, but using them differently. Cute Welsh Girl was sketching the faces of football fans on the trains while I took down the addresses of newspapers (it was a book I borrowed for this review I never wrote) in the hope of getting her attention.

It did, but we didn't talk for another ten minutes until we saw this guy on the platform at Clapham in these black netting fabric shirt, black leather trousers in a long black ponytail, black brogues and this giant black duffel bag. I joked he was on a goth pilgrimage (cos he really, really was_ and we got talking. She really cool and interesting in her own cute sweet way. Cute Welsh Girl has blonde hair and glasses, and is in her first year at University after getting three A's at A level. At the moment she is homeless, after living in Wales all her life as her parents sold the family home, bought a Pirates of the Caribbean stylee boat and are sailing all over the world. Her personality is very bright and chatty, funny, almost normal but too quirky and intelligent to be so. She likes books. That's all I need. As we kept talking she told me she had never been to London before, this was her first time on the tube, and she was going to Piccadilly circus. I really felt for her, so I took a detour and directed her to Piccadilly, telling her what I know as a Londoner, born and raised. It turns out we both love the National Portrait Gallery, so I might fix a date for her soon. She also works for student radio, and actually did mention me as her "London Guide". We've only sent each other a couple of emails but I really like her. Unfortunately, I have this creepy feeling she might be straight, which would be so annoying because I like her a lot. I don't know what to do next, I'm crap at relationships...and I'm going to have to think of something soon. Anyone get any ideas?

And god, the rest: crazy friends, books, painting the house. Thats what I've been doing all weekend. Me and Dad dressed up and we've been painting the living room a "zesty" yellow with "warm terracotta". It looks bright and really homely. Dad wants to put stencils up and I must stop him. I'm also covered in paint and feel quite dykey and rugged. I love painting walls. I love it when it stir the paint and it's all thick and gloopy. I love just messing around getting paint under your fingernails and then just lying on the sofa with the Independent on Sunday and a biscuit to admire your handiwork. There's also some skill to it like... to get the edges of the brush, you gotta wiggle it a little to make sure it's gets everywhere. We've only done half of it so far, so I'll be painting while Dad's at work. I'm tired. I'm going to bed. Damn blogger!

Today I had a Dance Attack

I've had a long, but lucky-full Friday: the disastrous solid traffic that has been making me late for the last three weeks and bringing me to my knees suddenly disappeared today. I was so shocked I almost jumped off the bus! But I didn't, I was too busy reading "Affinity" by Sarah Waters which oh-my-god!! is so much than when I started to read it two years ago - it was like porridge. Now it's sweet spicy melons and Crunchy nut cornflakes, it's so good, I don't know how that happened. We had a miserable S.R for History - we think by making them reminisce about the country triggered a major midlife crisis and he hates us for it and is therefore setting up a monster essay. Oh, thank you, so very much.

Anyway, I got home to find the house empty, and promptly had two bowls of cereal - I'm telling you, I needed it! And then I turned on the TV. Lots of dance music - Call on Me (soft core dance music porn), and then Gay Bar. Even though we've been moved for three months we still don't have curtains in the front room, but I couldn't help myself. So...! If you happened to walk down my street and found a overweight black girls in messed up braids shimmying and shaking her butt like no tomorrow and singing to GayBar!! I love that song. After that it was "You get what you give" by this the New Radicals who have no style now but were soo coool back then, and then there was Texas, and Paul Weller ie: Sex God. i danced and danced. I'm still dancing now. Then I thought of celebrities I'm smitten with. Hmm.

Sharleen Spiteri. I've been in love with her for a few years now. I mean, black, sleek, straight shiny hair. Gorgeous smooth skin, kissable pink lips...yes. And a great voice and songs to boot (Halo is one of my most favourite songs ever.) I've looking up pictures of Sharleen Spiteri because I love her and then I remembered her Elvis video. It sped me on the way to being a lesbian, thats for sure. I couldn't remember how hot it actually was until....

I can't stop staring at this picture! Super sexy! Too sexy! This reminds of the joys of lesbianism every day - you're attracted to women! I see her smile, her subtle curves, the hair, the eyes the clothes. To look so much like Elvis, but knowing that there's a woman underneath just...God! I love Sharleen Spiteri.

SoSo Tired

Yawn....


As may have guessed, I'm not sleeping very well. Over the summer I found it impossible to drift off before 2 am. Now I'm pushing 3 am, and waking at half 6. This has to stop! I can't relax. I've tried half-remembered yoga practices, a dizzying range of music, copious amounts of water, calling Samaritans and actually talking about my feelings, which I can't pull out of the hat when I'm trying to speak to people I know. Last night, I'm afraid I cut - I actually had a close call on wrist - for a second I thought I went too deep. I don't want to cut again, but I feel as if I'm being punished for not doing it - the bad sleep, the bad luck. Today I was actually on time for the first time since I've started college this year, I could sleep well and I was very on form, very witty. I missed it, but I wish I didn't have to cut to get there. So tonight I've had three units of Brandy (I hate the stuff, it's foul.) and since I've finished my fourth Murakami, A Wild Sheep Chase (not his best but full of inspiration and ideas. And, it's very very very funny.) I'm going to start my third Sarah Waters book, Affinity. It's not a thriller so I could just put it down when I feel tired. It's like 11pm now, so I'd better go and get my sleep on. Sorry for the Ghetto-ics. Later.

Quick Confessions

Decided to try out this meme from DM. It's all about confessions.

[] I am bisexual.

[x] I am homosexual.

[] I've run away from home.
I’ve planned it lots. Looked out for cheap coach trips, written letters. One time, when I was 7 I found a big box, packed some books in it and labelled the box for Hollywood, but I didn’t get anywhere.

[x] I listen to political music.Is Kanye West political?

[] I collect(ed) comic books.

[x] I shut others out when I'm sad.

[x] Open up to others easily.
Depends on what it’s about…

[x] Keeping a secret from the world.
Too many secrets. It may take years to release them all

[x] I watch the news.

[] I own over 5 rap CDs.

[] I own an iPod.
Can’t stand the things. Too damn technological.

[] I own something from Hot Topic.
Wha’???

[x] I love Disney movies.

I hate Bambi - all freaky eyes, it’s sooo dull. I love Shrek, Jungle Book and Toy Story though.

[x] I am a sucker for eyes.

[] I don't kill bugs.

I have managed to kill every spider I’ve come across. They just don’t survive in my prescence.

[X] I curse regularly.

[] I have "x"s in my screen name.

[x] I've slipped out a "lol" in a real conversation.
Yes. I do hang thy head in shame. But she didn’t notice!

[] I like Spam.

[x] I bake well.
I’m good with biscuits.

[x] I would wear pajamas to school.

How great would it be to literally jump out of bed, brush my teeth, grab my bag and run onto the bus without any judgement.

[] I own something from Abercrombie.

[] I have a job.
Believe me, I’m trying.

[] I love Martha Stewart.

[] I am in love with someone.
I wish I knew!

[] I am guilty of tYpInG lIkE tHiS.
It could happen, once you force it out.

[x] I am self conscious.

[x] I like to laugh.

[] I smoke a pack a day.

[] I loved Go Ask Alice.

[x] I have cough drops when I'm not sick.
I love Lemon Lockets!

[x] I can't swallow pills.
But I really don’t like it.

[x] I have many scars.
I’m a self harmer, so….arms, chest, stomach and thighs.

[x] I've been out of this country.

[] I believe in ghosts.
If I believed in ghosts I figure I really would lose my mind!

[x] I can't sleep if there is a spider in the room.
That’s why every two weeks I fill my bedroom with insecticide. They-Must-Die!!!

[x] I am really ticklish.

[x] I love chocolate.

[] I bite my nails.

[] I am comfortable with being me.

[x] I play computer games/video games when I'm bored.
Only windows pinball. I don’t really care for computer games.

[x] Gotten lost in the city.

[x] Saw a shooting star.
I might have been imagining it. I hope I wasn’t.

[] I had a serious Surgery.

Depends. Does having your tonsils ripped out qualify as serious surgery?

[] Gone out in public in your pyjamas.

[] I have kissed a stranger.

[x] Hugged a stranger.

[] Been in a fist fight with the same sex.

[] Been arrested.

[] Laughed and had your drink come out of your nose.

[x] Pushed all the buttons on an elevator.

[] Made out in an elevator.

[] Swore at your parents.

[x] Kicked a guy where it hurts.

[] Been skydiving.

[] Been bungee jumping.

[] Broken a bone.

[x] Played spin the bottle.

[] Gotten stitches.

[] Drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour.

[x] Bit someone.

[] Been to Niagara Falls.

[x] Gotten the chicken pox.
Three times! You’d think its not possible but it is!

[x] Crashed into a car.

[] Been to Japan.

[x] Ridden in a taxi.

[] Been fired.

[x] Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back.
Doesn’t everyone?

[x] Stole something from your job

[] Gone on a blind date.

[x] Had a crush on a teacher/coach.
This blonde careers advisors at my college. She’s beautiful, and has a super-sexy voice. I forget to like, speak or breathe properly when she’s around. I think its funny.

[] Celebrated Mardi Gras in New Orleans.Does Miami count?

[x] Been to Europe.
I live in Europe!

[] Slept with a co-worker

[] Been married.

[] Gotten divorced.

[x] Saw someone dying.
I remember seeing this guy before and after he jumped in front of a car. His brains were all over the motorway. No one else in the car except me seemed to see it.

[] Driven over 400 miles in one day.
Yeah, Alton towers and back…around 400-450? That was one of the best days I’ve ever had as a father/daughter thing.

[] Been to Canada.

[x] Been on a plane.

[x] Seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

[x] Thrown up in a bar.

[x] Eaten Sushi.

[] Been snowboarding.

[x] Been skiing.

[x] Been ice skating.

[x] Met someone in person from the internet.

[] Been to a motocross show.

[x] Going to or have gone to college.

[] Done hard drugs.

[x] Taken painkillers.

The Last Coupla Days

Eunurggh.

Yes, that is my feeling. I have a recurring headache on the left side of my skull that brings water to my eyes, an abscess on my right thigh, the heating refuses to work so I had two shots of whisky instead. So before I hibernate I'll tell you about the last couple of days.

On Thursday I was so unbelievably tired. You know when you finally go to sleep and it feels as if you were asleep for a second and you feel, frankly, cheated. Once again I had no timefor breakfast as I've had for the last two weeks and I yawned my way 20 minutes late into my 9am classics class. I recieved the class with eyes like dinner plates, and slumping over Sophocles. By the end of the first period I was dead on my feet, and felt compelled to go for desperate measures. Coffee.

I, Betty Browne, had never had coffee before. Seriously. Never. I sipped it one time and spat it out immediately. How do people fall in love with the stuff, its like drinking steaming monkey piss. So when you see how desperate, how weak, how yawnified, how tired I was coffee was the only answer, made palatable with a Mars bar - ah the gorgeousness of chocolate - it fixes everything. But not tiredness. I could, like, speak by now and I could do the work but the body really wasn't willing, but I plodded on, as you do.

In the end I just filled my stomach with chips and that seemed to do the trick. I had to travel for nearly three hours up to Harrow to see my bestest friend Ria who is poorly with abscess attack. But they've been taken out (in surgery!). It was strange going into the hospital as I've been dodging them for over 18 months. Also I was born in the same hospital but it appeared the outside was sensationalized by my birth they've forgotten to clean the outside since then - it was black upon black with dirt, and the windows were covered in green stuff. At least Ria had the view of the top of a tree. She's ok - she just listens to the radio, or using the TV with more channels at the hospital than at home. I would love to have a few days of purposeful rest, as long as I can wear long sleeved scrubs, of course. Actually I haven't cut for about two weeks. Its not I'm feeling satisfied, I just don't feel it.

Anyway, I left the hospital and ran for the bus, did a knee slide on dirty linoleum to catch a bus on which there was a massive fight. I'm not having too much success with buses lately. They're never on time, and its full of arseholes and nutters. Take today, this guy smoking a spliff on the bus asks for it to stop just ahead of the stop. The driver, an African man, ignores him. The man with a fat spliff (I was getting high just sitting there!) starts shouting and everyone gets tense.

Then this lady, she must have been over 80 years old and shouted something incoherent. The man who is making me high leans down and looks at her kindly: "What is it, darlin'?"
She gives him an evil look. I begin to laugh. "I said SHUT IT! You are a RUDE young man." Ah, that was jokes. A gangja tiff. The guy followed me to the next busstop afterwards, trying to justify being racist ("Come on, man you're a fucking African, you get me?") as he had had "five" Jamaican "birds" and the man was being a dick. He couldn't understand why the bus driver told him, to "fuck off". I told that "Maybe," because you were smoking a fat spliff on a bus. He says but "Yeah, don't all of you smoke?" And I said yeah, twice, when I was 15, but it fucks up my throat and its way overrated. But Jesus, is that what they'd expect? Black people can be just as anal retentive as the next Daily Mail reader - I've met a few. Makes me think about race relations and race paranoia - reasons, affects and aftershocks. But my lightbulb has just cut out and I don't know where the bulbs are. Not that I could actually the damned thing - I'm just too damned short. So, fuck it, I'm hibernating!

There's a crack in everything; thats how the light gets in - Leonard Cohen

I need to change my life. And I don't mean a haircut - I will never cut my hair, for one thing. I mean becoming a new person. Someone different to the person you were and fast cementing into. A weak, frantic, paranoid, cold, detached, alone no matter what the hell she does person. If you are what you are, fine. But when a strong voice is screaming at you that this isn't right, it ain't. When you feel that you have to move, but you fee so tired. Like the old you has been violently attacked by her Salesmen and her legs and arms is broken in several places. I can't move. And now I'm not making sense so there's nothing you can do.

I just want to start all over again. Just build myself up all over again. I have to.

But I haven't lost anything. It is really, the fundamental motive of starting all over again. It's not like a hurricane came and destroyed every material thing I loved and owned. I haven't lost anybody, I haven't completely ruined my chances. I haven't got anything I can start all over from. My identity, my self is a mask thats just been built up and up. Incapable of offending anyone, completely charming and sociable and quick witted, flirty, cool, calm and collected. I built her up because I just wanted to be left alone. I realised very early no man is an island, being a child and all. Being left alone meant being detached. But detached people and hermits are never actually left alone. I learnt that from all kinds of hollywoofd films. All the while I just lied to people, making them think I was doing all kinds of things - boring or overly extraordinary, but they were lies all the same. Then I finally understood than instead of avoiding things you have to get lost in them and fight your way out, leaving a bomb inside. Add a more than lethal dose of self hatred, paranoia and too much thinking time and you got me.

You see my title? There's no crack in my facade. Still after all this time, after all this pressure I'm fucking up, dying, rotting inside, behind the mask. But the mask just gets prettier, bigger. I could be going to Oxford next year - the first of my family, leaving everyone behind once again. It's a little tradition every time I have a fresh start. But thats not what I'm looking for because thats not who I want to be. A person who keeps shedding her skin to feel young and save herself from the past but ends up perfecting herself to death. Or something, I lost my train of thought.

But thats the reason for everything. Wanting to be independent, hating love, hating myself, telling lies, building a mask until the real me fell away and its all I have left: I was trying to feel real. Trying to find out what reality is because I can never find it. It's lost to me. I never had it.

********************************

You know whats one of my favourite childhood memories? Well, I can't remember it myself (like practically all my childhood. It's like another person. It's scary.) Dad told me that whenever I wanted McDonalds and he couldn't afford it (because Dad was on his own and we had no money), he'd make his own burger and put it in an old McDonalds box just to trick me. I love my Dad for that. He never wanted to disappoint his little girl, even when I didn't care. I dunno why I'm blogging, I just wanted to share stuff with you. I'm tiring of complaining. And even when the heating is off or I can't buy new clothes, because money (is always) tight, he's generous. I love him. And he doesn't know about my fuck ups. He just sees all my successes, every single one of them in a smiling, intelligently, appallingly un-ladylike 17 year old girl (and for the peeps who say thats the best year of your life - who are you kidding?!). He must think I'm perfect.

Time to get fixed. How? Any ideas people?