Wednesday, October 31, 2007

The dashboard melted but we still have the radio

I'm dying. I've not gone two minutes without coughing for three hours now. Instead of my planned Halloween evening which went along the lines of curl up in blanket, experiment with eye liner and draw things on my face, drink hot chocolate and watch Death Note (which means I'm totally in there for a wii. SmokeyJoe I owe you some sort of beverage), I went to the football. We not only lost ridiculously but my ass has frozen off and now sitting down is difficult. I'm coughing like some sort of yappy dog. Mmmhmm attractive.

Some musings before I leave for my early grave.

There's a guy who's in all of my classes and I'm not sure if I mentioned him here before, let's call him Mouseface. Mouseface is tall, lanky with brown hair wears glasses, those clear braces and I keep forgetting what his name is but I do know it. He has spoken maybe a dozen words to me, all at the one time and never acknowledged me since. He's a first year and may be the same guy I saw at the induction thing who I saw was born in 1990 which freaked me out. Granted I only lived in the eighties for a year and a day but it's like having my lil sis at uni purely because she was born in the early nineties. Anyway, my point is he's in all of my classes and everytime we've had archaeology bar the couple of times I've been late in, he's sat next to me. Not right next to me like I'd sit next to someone I liked so as to have a little accidental brushing of legs during lectures, but a seat along from me. I didn't think anything about it until I noticed he was doing it every single time. He sat next to me properly for the first time today in my history class, but ignored me and talked to his mate the whole time. I see him everywhere and I can't be bothered with him. He's a cardboard cut-out of so many guys I've had to drive away because they've bored me to tears. I'm too lazy to do that again. I attract a strange mix of guys, sadly none of them are ever normal or available.

So Mouseface. He's in my classics class too, but I've managed to avoid him for the most part, mostly because I've been trying to get a chance to speak to the Classics guy. I had a perfect opportunity the other day but then I remembered I had a tutorial on the other side of the campus. Although now I know he smokes it's iffy. I have an unhealthy fascination with smoking, not as unhealthy as actually being a smoker but I imagine it's heading that way. The smell of cigarettes is just so comforting and for a couple of years every single dream I have involves me smoking. My dad got annoyed at me for freakin dream smoking, God knows what he'd do if I started for real. Fact is, with some people it's just outright sexy and I love the whole talking with a cigarette in your mouth that Dylan Moran does brilliantly. Although, I might just be thinking of him because he is brilliant in general and I haven't watched Black Books in a while. So yeah, iffy. If I went out with a smoker I'd end up either smoking myself or doing the proper girlfriend doesn't want you to die rigmarole which I hate. It's like mothering. I mothered my last boyfriend until I was sick of myself simply because he was so fucking lazy, it pissed me off.

I fell up the stairs on the bus today. Don't know how I managed it but I've skint my knee. Now it hurts to wear jeans (which is kinda sucky seeing as I only have jeans or a skirt and I don't want more colds) and to kneel, walking at any pace other than slow stings as well. It's annoying but then I think back when I skint my knee everyday practically as a kid. I was very clumsy, still am apparently what with not being able to climb stairs. But it was like a big deal, major pain. Little did I know how sore a broken heart would be. Angst angst wah wah. I worked out why I've been so crazy with my rawr hate men no wait mewants many. This week is the anniversary of the shortest time I've ever been single. How ever long ago it is now I manged to move from one realtionship to another within a couple of days. I came the closest I've ever been to cheating, but then I'm more of the idea that if you're with someone and you're attracted to someone else it's either a crush you don't act upon or it's time to move on to the next one. It's not that hard people and I betcha life would go more simple that way. But our TVs would have no Jeremy Kyle. That show's so hilariously judgemental.

My last musing is a memory that hit me the other day when I bumped into a girl I used to know. I used to be friends with this girl and she was a year older than me, always liked to remind me of that. Anyway she was smugly telling me that she'd kissed a boy in the cinema. I was disgusted, I was 10 at the time and boys were icky, and she just snorted at me:

"Cat, if you're so grossed out by the thought of a boy sticking his tongue in your mouth what will you do when he sticks his penis in you?"

Bear in mind reader that I did not know that this was how sex happened. I was bitterly upset. I didn't want anything stuck anywhere, thank you very much and decided she had got it all wrong.

I tell a lie this is my last musing. I just watched the Planet Terror trailer. It looks terrible. But in a good way. Gun leg! Zombies! Bruce Willis turning into some sort of weird ugly thing for some reason! I have to see this film. Sadly my usual film seeing people don't want to see it for various reasons (thinking it's crap, zombies apparently being scary). But I will see this film, even if it means going myself. Or better yet bribing others to come with with promises of free drink!



PS Julie is great. Catherine's day was not that interesting but mine was. Do not read this post.

Humpin' Pumpkin

It's Halloween! Woo and yay. I've cut my pumpkins. They look a tad ragged but I did what I could with the resources I had: 1 large spoon, 1 too big knife. Today was crazy. I got up before 8, made it into my history class on time and remained pretty damn happy until the tiredness crept in. All of this done after drinking a fair amount of rum last night. Which means, boys and girls, that your good friend Catherine had her first night out and didn't end up with a depressing hangover! Therefore, I should only get drunk in the company of guys, only way to not wake up miserable. It was actually pretty nice having a night out and being the only girl there. I don't know the name of the other girl who was there so I'm not counting her (sorry no-name!). I miss male company. All my male friends were from high school and I don't see them often and some of them are better friends with my ex anyway. So it was great, despite the nose crushing hugs and excessive pushing. All in all pretty good day today. Now to ruin it with an essay I have to write! Because I'm too lazy to make this a proper post have some writing.

Goodbye to You

Damn. This is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I'm not really sure where I should even begin. You know, daft as it sounds, I really did the whole plan everything you want to say montage in the mirror only without the editing to make it interesting. I can't remember a damn word now. Probably for the best though. Less likely to attack you with barrage of over-used clichés. I'll get to the point, Rambling like this isn't fair to you.

Things haven't been going so well with us lately, you must have noticed. It's my fault. I'm never around anymore. I've left you alone for days without warning and I feel awful for doing it. It's selfish and cruel and I wish there was an easier way to do this. But I'm leaving. I can't go on living this way, with you.

I've been seeing this girl for a while now. Claire. You met her at New Year. Tall, blonde, makes jewellery. You remember. Me and Claire, we hit it off. We kept bumping into each other after the party and things just went on from there. I wasn't planning this and I never ever meant to hurt you. Sometime these things happen organically, there's no helping them.

She has this flat across town. Big loft conversion with a view of the city. You'd like it. She's asked me to move in with her. I really want to. I think I'm in love with her. in fact, I'm fairly certain I am.

Don't go, baby. Stay here and let me finish, please. I want you to know that I'll never forget you. We had some good times together, didn't we. I know you'll find the right person one day and I hope you'll be happy. I can't give you everything you deserve. Not anymore. I always cared about you, don't ever doubt that. You will always mean something special to me.

So this is goodbye. No, get off me. You won't change anything by doing that. I've tried my hardest to make it work but her landlord was adamant about it. Under no circumstances could I move in with Claire and take you with me. I'm sorry. I hope they take good care of you, puss, and find you a loving home.

Goodbye.

Pro-tip while you may have a good idea whilst drunk don't expect your notes to be legible when you wake up the next morning. I had the following written on the back of a History handout: Magicbox, music's the secret to orgasms! So um yeah.

I have a magic music box.

You won't believe me. I don't care.

I found it at a car boot sale in amongst old costume jewellery and yellowing books. It's the colour of twilight and on the lid there's the outline of where the name of its previous owner had been fixed onto the wood. Ophelia. Only the O is clear, bright against the faded paint of the rest of the box. The 'phelia can only be seen if you look long enough. On the bottom a love heart is carved in the wood and coloured a rusty red. There's a hole in the back for the key that winds the music player. I haven't found the actual player yet. There's a false bottom with a ribbon to pull it up. It has to be in there but at some point the bottom's been nailed down and I don't want to break it for fear it loses its power.

I used it to store my journal before I knew what it was capable of. The woman who sold it to me never mentioned the music player, nor was there a key included. Three months after I bought it I found an envelope taped to my door, addressed to 'that nice boy with too much hair'. Inside was the key on a chain. I wear it round my neck. There was a note attached telling me that music was connected to the soul. That was all. I thought nothing of it until a week later when the power went out and the flat upstairs had a candle-lit party. With the CD player out and none of us having any musical talent I brought along my box and wound it up for the first time.

The music my box can play is something you've never really heard before. It plays the music of dreams. Far from the tinkling of your average music box, mine plays proper tunes. Fully orchestrated. It never plays the same song twice. That night it played music to dance too. Music that makes you feel invincible. I met my girl at that party. We danced all night and laughed til morning.

I'll tell you a secret, my music box is better than sex.

My girl winds it herself one night and lies across my bed, her cigarette hanging languidly from her soft lips. I sit on the floor, her head hanging off the end of the bed resting on my shoulder. The song begins with the first twinges of strings and soft taps of the percussion warming up. The guitars begin strong and steady building up as the rest of the band join in. The vocals are stage whispers bringing goosebumps to the back of my neck, the strings cause that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that softens her agate eyes as she looks up at me. The music swells, her body tenses and the volume increases. I'm dimly aware of my roommate banging on the wall for quiet but we're too far gone to care. The voices are practically shouting now, the strings are sweeping, one lone violin can be heard separate from the rest just for a moment, carried away with its own music making. My girl gives a shudder and the music climaxes before winding down, each instrument dropping out of the melody until only there's only a distant twinkling of chimes. Gently I move over to the desk and wind the box again. She wriggles a little and smiles at me as I lie beside her. I kiss her as the soft piano piece floats round the room. She cuddles into me, her body fitting perfectly against mine. The smell of her skin fills my head. We fall asleep where we lie as the music continues to play, completely content.

Monday, October 29, 2007

Singing hallelujah with the fear in your heart.

Okay guys, lets review my past week!


First off I saw Stardust at the weekend (not the weekend that just happened but the weekend before) with lil sis. In general I liked it. I love Claire Danes, she's got an honesty about her that's endearing and Charlie Cox was cute. It was a bit Princess Bride-ish and I could have done without the overly epic trumpet score that kept cropping up at IMPORTANT moments. It was jarring. There was nothing epic about the story, we all know Tristan loves Yvaine, we know they're gonna get together and she's not going to die. It didn't need EPIC fantasy music. I was also a little disappointed in the ending. I'm not one of those people who get all pedantic about these things but the book ending was so sad but lovely and the film was a bit meh. I actually have the film tie-in book so I knew the ending was different but I musta forgot while I was in the cinema. I was just like 'wait, what? everyone lives happily ever after forever?' and sis got annoyed at me for ruining the moment or something.

Nothing much happened until Tuesday when I went to the other uni and paid £2 to watch Rangers and Barcelona do not a lot and pretend to ignore Emma singing in my face. She was adorably mad.

Then it was Lisbon time with Dad and Padington Bear! Lisbon is pretty. Lots of big fountains and statues of people like Vasco da Gama and King Jose. We didn't do much apart from eat and listen to Padington tell us Joe Strummer's life story and how the Clash formed all of his political views or something. I just kept thinking of Mark Ruffalo in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind when he gets high and rambles about how amazing The Clash were. I didn't tell him this. The stadium looks like a rollercoaster was stuck on top but Benfica have an eagle! At the start of each game this guy comes out and summons an eagle to swoop down over the crowd. Fricken awesome. We lost the game of course but you guys don't care about that. One last thing about the game I will say is that I had a surreal experience in the toilets. I could hear guys singing Celtic songs all around me while I peed because of the acoustics. Very weird. I got to see the national stadium where Celtic won the European Cup in '67. Dad was all in awe and the other guys with us crossed themselves with grass water.

Came back from Lisbon and saw Arcade Fire.

Emma and me were dying of the cold and she's never really listened to them but she boogied with me anyway. The crowd were all old and boring though. I mean the music isn't exactly rocking out loud but there could have been a bit more than serious arm pointing and swaying. We bounced and head banged as much as we could with coughing fits in between times because that's how hardcore we are. It was a good gig what with the organ and the guitarist running like a cartoon man on fire up and down the stage. No freebies though. Paid for a tee though, pretty nice.

Lil sis won £1000 by entering an article to the Scotland on Sunday. That's more money than she's knows what to do with! Ridiculously proud of her and have I mentioned how wonderful my sis is lately? Cause she is. Wii plz.

And lastly I got my pumpkins today. One little one and two tiny ones. Pics will follow once they're all cut and candled. Wish I could do more on Halloween but football. Yes, yes, I'm a man.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

So I'm home.

Back from Lisbon. I know you all missed me. No, I haven't got presents for you, unless you're Emma in which case I do, but it's nothing big/worth any money. Meaning I stole it but I think it was free anyway but WHATEVER.


I don't have anything to say, too tired, face hurts, we lost blah blah stop calling me a man Emma just cause my interests do not match yours or those of females.


I just wanted a welcome home. From the internet.


Everything is too loud and cold.

Monday, October 22, 2007

I wanna have your babies...

It's been a crazy baby weekend. I'll start with the laughable news. I have found yet another pregnancy test in the ladies toilet at work. That's like the third or fourth so far and in fairly quick succession. My money is on the skank with the 6 year old child already. She's doesn't have custody of her kid and she's admitted that while she was out on a fag break she got approached by a guy who mistaked her for a hooker. She'd be pitiable except I found 5 empty bottles of Slim Fast in her bin.

Now the question is, did she drink them before or after she suspected she was pregnant? I wish I could ask her.

The not so haha news is that my cousin (18, from Kansas, never met her) is pregnant. Shortly after telling our gran that she didn't believe in sex before marriage. Guess you do! I've only ever met my uncle, I don't know the rest of the family but he's such a nice guy and everything up til this sounded like it had been going really good for them. My cousin apparently is happy about it, suggested that she married her boyfriend until my uncle told her not to be ridiculous considering neither of them have jobs and both still live at home. I just feel sorry for her. I couldn't imagine throwing everything away like that. Big ol' life ruiner that is.



In better news I'm off to Lisbon this week. Woo and yay is in order! Mini-holiday with added fun of futbol! Also I finsihed my Classics essay. No more having to stare at Hesiod and his "women are a calamity and an affliction and they lie and eww women". Double woo.

So tired now. Hand cramp!

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Run for the shadows in these golden years

Julie's playing Kingdom hearts and other than making jokes about Sora's sexuality, setting character's names to music (Roxas fits perfectly to a certain song about a street walker by Sting) and suggesting that a better storyline for the Pirates arc woulda been Calypso has a beach party and everyone's invited (stone crabs with teeny maracas anyone?) I don't have much to do. So yeah, this happened.

I wrap my arms around me wishing that I'd worn my coat but the sun tricked me again this morning and I only have my thin red hoodie for warmth. Everything would be a lot less cold if I could get a coffee somewhere but that would only be an invitation for Sarah to spend more time with me. I can not shake this girl even though I'm pretty sure she doesn't even like me that much. The small link of high school seems to be enough for her to follow me all around town like a puppy telling me tales about people I care little about. I check my watch. Still three hours to kill. I'd planned on checking out the little vintage shop down the road from the history department and see if they had any bowler hats left but that was out now too. I'm wracking my brain for some excuse to get away when I realise she's waiting for me to answer her.

"Yeah, yeah. I remember Dan. What's he doing now?" Who cares? He was a bastard in school, probably being a bastard in some shitty job now for all I care.

"He's in a band now. For real." Figures. Can't get a proper job, too thick for further education so go for fame. Sarah's babbling something about some gig they've got lined up. Like as not just some club booked them on a quiet night with a bunch of other hopeful morons. What is it about boys and guitars. They think they just pick up a guitar and be Hendrixing in no time.

"So you wanna come with then?" I shrug noncommittally. I don't care what it is, I never actually plan time with Sarah. "You gotta come. You never go out. It's not healthy to shut yourself off from the world" I sigh. She does this everytime. Big pep talk on how to socialise like she knows how I spend my days. Why can't I think of an escape plan. All I can think about it smashing my fist through her smug mouth. I've just popped out one of her teeth when a word jars me out of my imaginings. I grit my teeth as I make my response:

"No, Sarah. I do not have a boyfriend at the moment." Cue sympathy sounds and more pep talk, this time on how to get some. Kill me now.

We walk on like this for a few more minutes. I'm freezing now and the Starbucks across the road is too tempting. I step out without looking too much at the traffic only to be pulled back onto the pavement.

"Saved your life!" Sarah beams at me. A beat-up blue mini van screeches to a halt in front of us. I smile recognising the design that twirls along the side. The passenger door is flung open and there she is. My escape route.

"Come with me if you want to live." Cass tells me this completely deadpan serious, her wild mane of red hair adding to the drama. The words tumble out of my lips before I can stop them:

"My hero!" Sarah looks awkward but starts her feeble attempt at a self-introduction. I leave her spluttering by the road as I jump into Cass' van and she roars away to freedom.

"Jeez, you're shivering. I gotta flask of chocolat somewhere." Her fingers point vaguely in the back. It's stuffed full of art supplies. I gamely pick my way through, spurred on by the fact that my right hand is practically numb now. It looks like she just robbed the art store. I tell her this. She laughs, tells me the story of how it would have panned out. Her in a bright orange balaclava with paint ball guns threatening to ruin the pristine canvas they charge too much for. I give up and manage to get seated again. I shove my hands under my armpits and try not to scream at her when Cass produces the elusive flask from under her seat along with half a cheeseburger which she offers to me.

"I thought you were veggie? Y'know to go with the crazy hippie vibe you got going." Cass snorts and steals a bite from the burger in my hand.

"I remembered how tasty cows were and gave it up." I nearly choke on cheese at that.

We entertain each other with tales from our respective courses and what with the laughing and warmth of the van I don't realise where we are. It's only during the first silence that I realise we've been driving for nearly a hour.

"Where we going, Cassie?" She doesn't answer me at first. Instead she chews on her lip, distorting her pretty face.

"Cassandra? Tell me where you're taking me. I've got a class soon." She drums her fingers on the steering wheel, the big silver rings clattering off each other. She answers me in a quiet voice, barely a murmur.

"Galway." I explode. She had no intention of telling me until she had to, I can tell.

"Were you hoping I wouldn't question the boat ride?" I'm so close to shaking her when she merely shrugs at me but she drives recklessly enough as it is. I shout and moan at her until she finally pulls over and talks to me properly. When she does she's close to tears.

"I left him. I left Richard. I know he's been cheating on me, I don't need to find that out one day, and I can't go back there. I can't." I look more closely at the piles of stuff in the back and notice the suitcases hidden under the boxes of paint. "We had a fight last night. There's this gallery in Galway that wants to exhibit my work. You remember the Irish guy we met last year who I got to sit for me? Well his dad really does own a gallery, wasn't just a line. Or it was a line but a real one. Anyway they want me to come over but Richard said he wouldn't come with me and got mad when I said I'd go myself. He, he really scared me Cee. I didn't know what he was gonna do. I thought he was gonna..., that he might...so I packed my things and drove off as soon as he went for work this morning and then I saw you with Sarah and knew I had to rescue you from that cow and I guess I felt safer with you here."

The last sentence is a rushed jumble and I really have nothing to say to it. So I reach over and hold her instead. She's shaking, scared for the first time in all the years I've known her. I keep holding her until she calms down enough to drive again. And maybe it's the turpentine smell rising from behind us or the way she's smiling at me now but I tell her to drive us both to Ireland with a happy dizzy feeling in my head.

She kisses me and we set off, back on the motorway. Roaring towards the sea and freedom.

What have we learned?

It's been a month of my second first year at Glasgow University. To celebrate and to prove that I'm getting something out of this I've decided to share with you some of the more interesting things I've learnt so far.

1. You can always improve a lecture by using the Nazis as an example.
2. Archaeology can be "the most fun you can have with your pants on."
3. The begetting section of the Bible actually has a use other than filler.
4. King John, upon seeing Hadrian's Wall, declared it was built by a race of Giants who had died out in a series of earthquakes.
5. Pippin after seeing the success of Gondor went on to usurp the throne of what would become modern day France.
6. Dublin is a Viking city. Thus Vikings with Irish accents exist. Just for you Emma!
7. It's alright to cheat on your wife as long as you cry about it a lot.
8. Homer may have been a Homera.
9. The more technology one has, the more civilised one is.
10. When the Greeks passed through Egypt they left graffiti on important monuments.
11. Never ask for help to defend your empire when nobody really trusts you in the first place. You get the crusades instead.
12. Nazis really did go around looking for archaeological evidence that they rocked during the thirties.
13. Never trust a god. They'll help you through all the things you probably didn't need much help with but when you take on 108 men by yourself they turn into a bird and fly off to laugh at you from a safe distance.
14. SUBTERFUDGE
15. The biggest threat to Odysseus in all the twenty years he spent away from home is impotence.
16. The best Pope name so far is Pope Innocent the third.
17. Being a solitary hermit is hard to do. Everyone wants to follow you thus ruining the whole point of being a hermit in the first place.
18. If you fight hard enough for a cause the Church doesn't agree with at all they just might give in. Just before you die. And it will only apply to you.
19. Never brag that your wife is the hottest ever and then force your right hand man to sneak in and see her naked.
20. The Greeks had a guide on when and where to pee.
21. Humans have the same number of hair follicles on their body as a monkey.
22. Aphrodite, the most beautiful and sexy thing to ever supposedly exist, was created from the genitials of another God.
23. Professor Robes still exist. And people wear them. And call an OHP a visualiser.
24. Glasgow Uni was originally built in the East End until the area became a bit dodgy. Subsequently it was moved to the West End because it was feared the students would fool around with the prostitutes.
25. Admitting that the pickled babies in the Hunterian Museum make you broody makes even biology students freak.
26. The QMU put 2 shots of espresso in their Mocha and that's why taking a huge gulp of it thinking it would be weak like everywhere else is not a good move. Especially when that cute guy was sitting right next to you and saw your 'woah what did I just drink?!' face.
27. This goes double when you drink the really thick bitter chocolate syrup at the bottom of the cup that you forgot to mix properly.
And finally
28. Otters are cute


Thursday, October 18, 2007

Rawr feminist rant.

Do men honestly think asking for sex point blank works? I honestly never thought I'd have to wonder about this, but during my almost two years of being single I have had to deal with being asked if I'd sleep with someone more than I'd like. And I have no idea how to react. If I laugh it off and joke along I'm scared they'll think I'm easy. If I tell them to stop it or ignore them I get pestered more, told it was all just a laugh, no need to overreact. Did I encourage them? I am a terrible flirt, I find it so funny and fun. So then I'm confused and annoyed which leads inevitably to them claiming I'm confusing and blowing hot and cold and teasing them and God knows. Either I attract the lamest guys (and there have been a few lame ones in the bunch) or the whole world has gone to crap.

Whatever happened to romance. Is it so hard these days to find a guy that wants something slightly more meaningful than an easy fuck. I'm not naive enough to think guys don't think about sex. By now I assume that's all they want and hope to be pleasantly surprised. I'm drawn, because of this, to guys that aren't obsessed with sex. Not because I want a relationship with them but because I know I'm safe. I can relax.

I'm growing tired of 'society today'. I used to able to talk to any guy. I can still talk to guys more readily than girls simply because girls have always confused me. I can understand guys more or less just apparently not the ones who have any interest in me whatsoever. I don't want to sound like a whiny single person. You know 'waa waa I want a relationship why aren't there any good people out there'. I know why I'm single. I spent three months doing everything I could to move on to the next guy and got pretty close to a few before I pulled back, shut down and went 'nu uh' Catherine you are being sensible this time.

So here I am. Sensible. Which means the only guys that want me now are the crazies who don't talk to me for months and then get bored and go "hey there sex now plz?" and I go no and they go away for a little while. They depress me more than they should.

I don't even know if I want another relationship. It's hard work and ends in heartbreak. I'm not even sure I like who I am when I'm with someone. But I miss having someone to hold. I'm an affectionate person and I went from having a big group of girls who always needed a hug and a boyfriend to having a few friends, most of which I don't know well enough for hugging purposes and when I do with ones I know well I get accused of being gay. Pff I almost wish I were, then all my problems would be solved! But lesbians confuse me. Too many emotions.

I think what I'm getting at is everything is overly complicated so could everything stop being complicated please?

Classical quote to consider:
From the same book that gave peeing instructions. Woman here being created by Zeus: "I shall give them an affliction in which they will all delight as they embrace their own misfortune." Awesome, how do you like being an affliction all you women out there. Personally I'm loving it. I'm so bored of the woman bashing in all my classes. But then I'm the one that picked the historical subjects. Enjoy my favourite women bashing comic:

Thoughts of a dying romance

Stay with me.

Just for a little longer. I'm not ready to be alone yet. I don't want to face the world as the singular me. Let's have one more night of me and you, together. One last kiss, another embrace, hands lingering.

I know. I know you have to go, you don't have to tell me again. I know I can't stop you either. God, how I've tried.

But stay, won't you? What harm can one more night do? Forget the arguments and the tears. We had some good times didn't we? What if we started over. It could be like it was. A new beginning. What do you say?


I'm so sorry. I said I'd stop, it was just a slip. I promise it won't happen again. Forget it. But please, stay tonight. I won't bother you again, honest. It'll be alright. Just stay. Give me one last time.



I love you.
Don't ever leave me

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Miss Mary Ann kept her man in porcupine gloves

I wrote a short story for a project but it didn't get picked. Most likely because when I planned to do my final revision I was in bed with the flu and had to send it in as it was to meet the deadline. I was gutted but it had pushed me to write again after a long time so not all bad I guess. This is only the first part.

Marianne sat across from me cupping her mug of cold coffee with both hands, her eyes seeking solace in the murky liquid. Little lines scored her usually smooth forehead as she planned her next sentence carefully. I knew what was coming but I let her find the perfect words. Marianne was like that. She wanted something that just didn’t exist in real life. She longed for deeper kind of life where every word and action was dripping with hidden meaning, a movie kind of life and I faded into the background with every new performance.

Suddenly I didn't want to humour her anymore. I was tired of agonising silences while she wrote the script for our relationship. I wanted away from this flat that had been so quintessentially ours, Marianne’s and Jack’s. I wanted far away from this too-small kitchen in which we had disregarded all design sense and painted the walls bright red. Our friends had laughed at us and I had to admit it was garish most of the time, but there was a certain time of day when the sun would hit the blinds just right and bathe my girl in an ethereal glow; her long hair glistening in copper waves. She was magical. My gaze settled on the handprints on one of the cupboard doors. She had slipped and thrown out a red hand, ruining the new wood. My own print had been added to banish the disappointment, to make it special. Make it ours. I just wanted to get away. If I managed to avoid the theatrical speech I knew I could do it. I stood up slowly but my stool still scraped harshly along the tiles. Marianne winced slightly but did not look at me. I kissed those little thought lines and stroked her hair.

“Goodbye, Marianne.” She leaned her head against me for a moment and murmured my name. I walked away before she could say anything more.

My bag was packed and ready at the door. It had been waiting for days now for me to pick it up and carry it out of our life. I forced myself not to hesitate, not to wait for her warm arms around me giving me that final kiss that always broke my resolve and pulled me back in. I opened the door and walked away from the tears that had always held me. I heard her shout something after me but I blocked it out. The door shut behind me with a harsh finality. It was only when I was safe on my brother's couch that I allowed myself to hear her.

"But I love you!"

It was her last weapon against me, her love. It strangled me in its warm embrace and I always helped her wind it around my neck like a dutiful pet. I didn't know if by tomorrow I'd be back, tail between my legs, excuses flowing from my traitorous lips. Tonight I severed my last connection to her and hid my phone at the bottom of my bag. She would move on, come to hate me and I would handle that. And amongst all the misery and pain there was a glimmer of hope. That I'd done the right thing for once. Pulling the blanket tighter around my neck I ended the day.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Talking to the mirror again but it's not listening.

First things first, Em makes the cutest lil drunk. She made me giggle today what with her stating of obvious facts and her loud excitement and I needed a giggle. I've been in a funk. All doom and gloom and being bitter about the world and my solitude in it.

It's been a pretty good week so far and I expected it to be a drag. I've still to face the 9am start on Friday with Mr Robe Man but that's a little while off. I've got two essays to do as well but I think I can do them. It's not as daunting as last year when it was all holy crap it's French. Helps when everything is in English and I actually understand it (although Dolichocephalic? I've got it memorised but forgot what it means).

I walked home from the bus stop tonight, still a little shaky on my feet but sober enough to face my sis, and just as I rounded the corner of my street I looked up and god the sky was pretty. I find it so humbling watching the sky. I used to lie in the road and watch clouds drift by. I was convinced that the sky looked rounder in our area, like a big blue arch keeping me safe. I don't get to lie in the road anymore. Mostly because there's a lot more traffic these days but also because my neighbours think I'm odd enough as it is. But while I trudged home I looked up again and it's still my big blue arch holding me in, keeping me grounded and reminding me that it's ok to be alone. And I can be alone under my own sky because for the first time in a long while I'm happy being me. I imagine the rum had something to do with it but I've been reflecting a lot lately. I always get all romantical around October. Something in the air that just makes me so inclined. Last year it broke me. I was at uni and I hated everything about it. I spent all my time sulking at home even though I did have a number of guys interested in me which was something I couldn't get used to, so I led them on and pushed them away and drove them off one by one. (although the weirdest of them all still occasionally talks to me every so often. And by talks I mean says "so wanna have sex now?"). The sky and the rum freed me a little tonight. I can go to sleep tonight and think "yeah, today was a good use of a day and also my hair looks pretty good."


Yes, I believe in love, yes I'm a dreamer but I'm not alone, there are more of us than you suspect, and we've got bombs, truth and beauty bombs.

Monday, October 15, 2007

A post which has little to do with body fluids.

I've been asked (read she hit me til I started typing) by my lil sis to correct my last post. She wanted to retitle Works and Days to "How not to set your weiner on fire" instead of whatever I said. Apparently paraphrasing is not allowed in this house.

I know there is an edit button but this was a matter of severe pain and I forgot.

End Transmission.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

How I learnt not to set my dick on fire. An essay by Miss Kitty.

I do love Autumn. As I trudged home, sick as a very sick dog having managed to locate the book I needed from the library (who puts a history book in the theology section just cause it's about nuns? HISTORIC NUNS!) and not slept through classics (no sign of hotman, good thing too considering the icky cold), my heart lifted a little as I crunched through the leaves. And maybe kicked them up a little just for fun. And maybe by little I mean quite a lot.

A squirrel decided to try to paw its way into our sitting room not once but twice and just casually walked off when I approached the window all 'what the hell ya doing? crazy rodent thing' waving my hands about. It was mad. He's not been back but I suspect he's off to find a rock or something to steal my TV when I'm not looking.

I'm pretty much over the cold now *touch wood* I defeated it with positive thinking and drugs! Just dying of exhaustion now, so many things I had to clean today, some of them more than once thank you very much faulty bin bag. So now I anticipate good things. Like essay writing and a 9am start on Friday...it's a big week for me this one. A big, sucky one full of Things To Do.

On the good side I'm writing again. I spent the last three hours or so writing a short story. It had swords and hints of Greek mythology. Very happy I did something with ease. I've been in a funk for too long. Might post it if anyone's interested/I can be bothered.

On the Greek mythology thing for Classics I had to read Hesiod's Works and Days or as Julie decided to rename it "How I learned not to set my dick on fire". No joke. Halfway through this short poem thing about when to do your harvest and what way to drink your wine Hesiod starts giving instructions on how to pee. Guys just to inform you, you can't pee standing towards the sun, and at night don't pee on the road or uncovered. The best advice ever comes swiftly after with the classic (and I stress I have not changed a single thing here) "And when your private parts are stained with semen indoors, do not let them be seen as you go near the hearth-fire, but avoid it." Don't let your lady-friend see you set your spunk on fire? Don't go near fire in case you burn your penis cause that would be sore? Semen is highly flammable? I'm not sure quite what he is telling us here. But whatever it is, take heed men.

Friday, October 12, 2007

I have discovered the secret to Final Fantasy hair.

Dream about having to research ridiculous things for History.

I woke up this morning angry. Angry at having to look at a book for ages and wondering why I couldn't find out whether Bismarck liked pancakes despite the title being "German rulers and their pastry preferences' and then having an argument about what a proper pancake was with some girl who appeared in a caravan and was somehow my girlfriend only I wanted to leave her because she kept asking me stupid questions about Bismarck which I then had to go look up and couldn't find.

When I walked past the mirror I checked to see nothing was wrong. Face seemed fine, nothing new. Tshirt on the right way, good, good. Pause for yawn. Then a cough. Still got the cold I see. Darn. Eyes slowly roll their way upwards and...wow.

I had Cloud hair.

Actual proper, big spike sticking straight up and defying reason, Cloud hair.

I wish I could have taken a picture but then everyone would have to see my morning face.

I'm debating whether I have the energy for lectures. I wouldn't mind if the lecture theatres were at least a little comfy but I can barely keep myself upright, let alone balance myself on a pew and write on a teeny piece of table. Worst part of it is I have to go to the library at least sometime before Monday at 11am. Man can I not be bothered with that.

Whoever gave me this cold, I dun like you.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Fevrale dostat chernil i plakat

I got a cold. I'm usually not one to moan about colds considering the time when I first became a veggie and sniffled just about every day. (protip do not think you can live off quiche for several months just because neither you nor your mum can think of anything else to eat) But this one is making my head all guddled. Like everything is really far away from me or something. Dunno, am ill.

I've missed History again cos I just could not move this morning. I'm gonna miss Classics too much since I think I might curl up and die if I have to sit on another bus so soon. I will spend today instead thinking healing thoughts. Really I should have done that last night but Emma dragged me out instead to el cinema to see Day Watch (not to be confused with Bay Watch unfortunately since we'd all love to see vampy Hasseloff I'm sure) with her hottie of a pirate man. Although truthfully I didn't mind at all, there are few people I'd drop everything and go see and she is one of them. Plus the film was fantastically mad. But then I've always thought the Russians were a bit crazy in a good way. So wish I could back there and not be bothered by the fact that I was in a shitty relationship and my sister almost died. Especially when I return and I'm all 'oh god my sis almost died and she's the freakin best' and he's all 'haha you almost killed your sis' and his mum's all 'haha I hear you poisoned your sis'. Murders nearly happened that day. Murders with big knives.

Oh man, some sort of groovy song just came on my itunes. Did not know I even had this or why I do.

Oh yeah, it was on Buffy this one time.

Tis jazzy.

So yeah, film was good. Subtitles were amazing, all animated and relevant. The translation was pretty good from what I could work out (using my 'how to determine if subtitles are good' skills from French there)

Man the song got a bit annoying now with too much ahhing and stuff. Hurrah April March is next. For those of you who didn't see Death Proof, first off what's wrong with you? It's a ridiculously pointless laugh of a film and I stick by that no matter how floplike it goes; secondly there's the best song at the credits by the girl who sang the theme song for I M Weasel. So good. Bad thing is though I was humming it to myself as I walked home last night and this car was facing the wrong way across the road. As soon as I was opposite it, the car leaps into life, swerves into the right lane and drives off. I thought it was coming to get me and may have eeped a little.

Lets see now, film=good. Subtitles=great. Emma's cute babbling excitement over Pirate Guy? Utterly adorable.

What else is new. Oh yeah, new hair. Not mannish anymore, no sirree bob it ain't! The girl straightened it all to hell and then said she'd mess it up but instead made my head look like an egg. I attacked it more with goo though and it went all flicky and purty. Liking it lots.

Oh! And I got The Fountain in graphic novel form. It's as gorgeously heart-breaking as the film. Love, love, love it.

Bleargh cold. Hurry up with that cold cure scientist guys. Come on now, leave the crazy 'lets make a sheep from nothing won't that be a larf' and do something useful for once.

Oh, one last thing. My guy in classics has sideburns! And doesn't look like a twat with them!

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

We all go down together

I do love that I spent last night thinking about Uni and the goodness of it all and of course I wake up this morning too late to go to History.

I've got another couple of hours to kill before I head in for Classics and my first ever Archaeology tutorial. I can't stand tutorials truth be told. I'd much rather just have more lectures. I don't like talking in small groups. My spoken communication skills aren't exactly what you'd call good. It's not that I don't have anything to say, but I tend to say it too quietly or I just can't be bothered trying to find a time to say it and I never can be bothered to contradict people. Unless they piss me off like that Londoner in my English class who said Roald Dahl hated children and Grimm's fairy tales were all princesses getting married. What about the one with mouse, the sausage and the crow hmm? Where's the sexist happy ending there, you ass?

But yeah, tutorials, hate em. Today will probably be the pointless introductory one where we go round the group and say our names and where we live before going home wondering what the point of turning up was. Oh right, so we don't fail. Gotcha.

If it wasn't for that I wouldn't bother with today at all. Some days just aren't days to bother with. Plus I had the craziest dream. Second time I've had it now. After my usual ridicously over-the-top romance dream that whirls by all normal like and happy the weirdness always interferes. Wouldn't be much of a dream if there wasn't some crazy. The crazy of last night (and sometime last week) involved me being in a bar with some guy who decides the drink is rubbish and over-priced. So we set off to buy and make our own. Thus follows the longest time of me staring at various items in a supermarket which if I could remember them probably holds some sort of significance. Thing is he won't shut up about the vinegar which is apparently the key ingredient when you're trying to make vodka and cranberry. When I questioned this he got really violent and I woke up soon after I finally got the drink and some girl from nowhere complained about the lack of ice.

I'm getting kind of bored of dreams where I'm looking for something pointless in a shop. It's like all I do in real life when I'm bored and now I get to do it asleep too. Woo and hoo come to mind.

Lets see now what have I got this week? Hair cut tomorrow: goodbye man hair, hello one week of it looking pretty hot then foof! Oooo next issue of Runaways comes out on Thursday. Gotta have a bit of Whedon to get me through the week now I've got another month to wait for buffy. Seriously comic reading is killing me financially but I can't not buy them. Buffy! Plus Molly Hayes is just the cutest thing. She beat up Wolverine!

Oh, but on the free side of things Sugar Shock is Joss Whedon's webcomic. Only three issues long but it's pretty wacky fun.

Anyway I better go get dressed and stuff although gods know how I'll find the inclination to do so.

Monday, October 8, 2007

We'll all float on anyway

I'm feeling cautiously optimistic about Uni this year. There's the fear that slips in every so often when I think about deadlines and early starts and dealing with administration. I hate dealing with secretaries and librarians. They all made with power I tells ya. But I focus on the main thing. I got a goal this time. Something resembling a plan.

And in the end I just remind myself that it's the means to an end. All these essays and exams are just stepping stones to a life. And a life is what I long for.

There's a lot of moments where I just think why bother. I've got another 4 years, 5 if I choose to go abroad (which I just might, Galway is just so prettily Irish after all!) of learning. Sometimes it just seems too much of a drag. But then the alternatives are much worse. I can't get a job and boy have I been trying and I think I would die before I became some sort of stay-at-home mum. But anyway all of those things go away when I look at where I get to study. God, the people there may be mostly a tad stuck-up and I've met so few people that I could actually stand but when I walk down the streets and have to stop to let some squirrels pass or when I'm sitting in (the most uncomfortable) the only preserved Victorian lecture hall it doesn't matter. I sit in the little courtyard reading my Homer, listening to the church organ play behind me and helping out the gorgeous Chinese girl in finding her class and I don't mind the cold Autumn wind or the fact that I haven't spoken to a single person all day since I got out of bed.

On a side note my Classics lecturer keeps mentioning the Iliad, saying that "of course nobody will have read it" or that nobody reads classic literature unless they're studying it. It's like lets make Catherine feel like a bigger geek than she already is. I've had to explain to people why Dawn is capitalised and acts like a person when that doesn't make sense, or who the hell Persephone is and why does she keep popping up in the underworld for no reason. I kinda thought I'd turn up for Classics and meet similiarly minded ancient Greek geeks like myself. Seems I was mistaken.

My hopelessly romantic mind was checked all summer and for a good while before as well. Unfortunately, it's returned and I look for love around every corner. I'm not quite sure what I'm looking for but then I never am and usually it ends in me finding someone and settling for them. Is it so wrong to want someone to fall hopelessly in love with you and not be a total weirdo who just uses you?

To cheer myself up and because they were cheaper than usual, I bought Angel. I've never really watched them aside from the few episodes in which Buffy crossed over or a couple I watched over the summer but I'm loving the series so far. Only I wish somebody could have warned me that the attractive Irish man died so freakin' early on. I knew he was gonna die but not that soon! Thanks tons Mr Whedon/life for making everything a little bit more gloomy. I had to watch Black Books just to get my fix of Irishness.

Which reminds me The Shins are coming to Glasgow in November on the same day that I'm seeing Bill Bailey. I missed them earlier this year and now once again. So if any of The Shins are there or have some sort of psychic ability when you come back (and please do come back) please make it a day I'm available. I will totally dance my ass off and woo and yay better than anyone else.

In conclusion, I am very tired and I wish I was in love.

Saturday, October 6, 2007

Nothing good ever happens after 2am

Especially when you have drunk 3 shots of nail polish.

The shots were free and nobody else was drinking them. I hate to see wastage.

I'm just home from a night out with my Tipsy Pixie, loveliest girl alive and lollypop. I always enjoy the fuzzy-headedness you get after drinking too much, but not enough to be plastered. It's comforting and cosy. I just wish I didn't get awful hangovers. My inclination for depression never helps. Plus theres the waking up to Julie in my face saying "are you drunk? huh? hangover? make out with any BOYS?!?!?!?' Man does that get old fast.

I'm kinda bored, kinda tired and feel like talking to someone but I doubt anyone would appreciate a wake up at this time.

So yeah. No real point to this other than to prove I am coherent after drinking. Yay and such.

Plus I figured it wasn't wise to leave the football rant up too long in case people began to doubt my hardcore geekitude.

Thursday, October 4, 2007

Hail, hail and all that.



There are reasons why they call it the beautiful game. Running on to a pitch to playfully slap the opposition and potentially ruining everything is not one of them.

Dickass.

I've been going to Celtic games for 8 years now. Conveniently I started going just as we got good again. I really went because it was time spent with my dad and I never do see him enough despite the fact he was working at home at the time. I also went to make a statement. I was gonna pay attention, learn the rules (including the elusive offside rule which traditionally my sex fail to comprehend) and understand the history. I sat there in my green and white hooped shirt which was a little too big for me since back then girls strips didn't exist (neither did xxl strips, fat people just has to tuck it in) next to my dad, pie in hand and appropriate football saying ready to shout at intervals (I stopped at 'go on my son' though). Boys at school were surprised when I could hold my own in petty football fights. I knew my rival teams almost as well as my own and I had the advantage of being a girl so none of my arguments could end in getting beat up (mostly). This empowered me.

A couple of years ago I lost interest. Things between my dad and I were going rather craply thanks to my no-good-dirty-rotten-cheating-son-of-a-whore boyfriend. I missed an old firm game for him and took crap from his sister's boyfriend (who was a drunken Aberdeen fan). I had to deal with angry texts from him during games he thought I was gonna miss to see him and lastly I was accused of caring more about football than him and that I was a terrible girlfriend. I admit fully I was pathetic at the time I dated him and my biggest ever regret was not leaving him when I should have. The point is I barely knew who was in my team and going to games became a nuisance rather than entertainment.

Once he was out of my life I was still in two minds about football. Did I really care that much about a bunch of over-paid, stupid boys kicking a ball?

The answer is Fuck Yes I did. I have sat through games in the freezing rain, full of the flu, unable to even stand as we took hopeless penalties against Valencia. I've sang til my throat cracked to cheer my boys on and swore more than usual in front of my father. Strange men have hugged, punched and groped me all at football matches and I once yelled at an old man. The best experiences I have ever had at games have been the European games.

It's the crowd mentality. The referee gives AC Milan a penalty for no good reason just after you did the unthinkable and put a goal past Brazil's goalkeeper and the sheer rage flows through you. You want him to suffer. The string of expletives is only topped by the booing everytime he interrupts the game afterwards. There the panic that grips you everytime Kaka goes near the ball. The memory of the last time you saw him and he ran from nowhere, faster than you've ever seen a player run at Parkhead. He terrifies you and he humbles you and you hate him a little for scoring the penalty so well.


And then there's the joy when that ball finally hits the back of the net at the end of the game. The guy next to me is a lot more shy than the usual drunken lot I end up sitting beside. He moves to embrace me in the 'feckin hells yeah we are good lets all hug and love each other' way that men do and then casually changes his mind half-way through. I get dragged by the neck by my dad instead.

But don't despair, readers. I spend the more boring games coming up with amusing stories for the players and crazier fans. For instance, I believe Gary Caldwell, Celtic defender and class A pointer, is simply in the wrong profession. He probably became a football player because that's what all the boys were doing. And he got put in defense since someone bigger and more arrogant wanted to be the striker. He got where he is today through his outstanding ability to point out just who is going to take the ball away from him and score. If there had been a market for it he could have lived up a mountain, with a crazy beard. People would come from all over the world to ask him to fortell their futures and he would point at potential people would crap up their lives. Sadly he was born in the wrong age and can but point at the opposition instead.

And that is why my dad curses his name every weekend.