Out

  I am currently in the process of taking everything over the road to the Kelly house. And it is proving a most exhausting task, in every possible way.

  I will always look back on this time on how it was a hugely exciting exertion, an incredibly hopeful time and one of the hardest I've yet had to go through. I have really missed my brother's the past few years but it has given me and my parents a window to become an incredibly close unit, and knowing that might not be there for a while is quite hard to come to terms with. But I find myself from tonight with a new family again and I am so excited to be spending time outside my home, in a weird way. I mean come on, double bed!

  This week I have a gorgeous plan, I'm moving out, seeing two extremely close friends in London, catching up with old and new friends and starting to plan my travels. I've decided - fuck it, I'll go away.  So for me, I have never had such an exciting moment in my life as I am now and that is amazing. I love my job, my family, my friends. Everything seems to be slotting into place. That's enough for me for now.

  As for my parents being far away, I am still going to see them once a week and I'll be living with them again for a month before I go away, and before uni. It'll be so good to get out of Salisbury and into the bleak midwinter, rolling hills of Wales.

  On a funnier note, today I put a penis jelly sweet into Liam (from work)'s tea. It dissolved. Har har. Back to pack.

Just realised this was because of the clock change. Idiot.

Being a Class A Knob.

  It's not easy, cacking things up you know. It takes time, practise and an incredibly low amount of common sense.

  Fancy an example? Today I did the STUPIDEST thing ever.

  So I woke up at 9:30, looked at my laptop, kept checking the time on there to make sure I wasn't late. Had a shower, kept checking the time in there so I knew I wasn't over-running. Then I had breakfast, checking the clock to make sure I was on time. Then I walked to town, checking my iPod to make sure I was still on time.

  Got into town, and weirdly Boots hadn't unlocked the doors so I had to get a sandwich from Starbucks. Town was very quiet. Then I got to work, opened up, served someone some soap. Kept checking the time on the card machine to see how it was going. Then it got to 4! Hooray! So from three, I was sweeping and mopping. Then by four, I had brought in the a-board, turned the music off and was happily cashing up the till. That's when something strange happened.

  I suppose though, the real beginning of the story would be in France about a month ago. My phone didn't register the time difference when I arrived there so I had to turn it forward myself. Then one morning it woke me early and I got up and changed; when my roommates informed me I had the wrong time, and my phone had put itself forward another hour. I got back into bed fully clothed and angry.

  You see where I'm going with this don't you.

  So when I got back from France, it didn't register the time difference and I needed an alarm for work so I set it up ready to wake me. Everything had been fine for four weeks. Until today.

  Today my phone put the time back a further hour. I woke up at 8:15, got to work for 9:40 and did worked an extra hour for absolutely no reason. And the really stupid thing was thinking about all the clocks I'd looked at ALL day and I hadn't sniffed that there was anything wrong.

  I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Time to pack and skype Georgie.

Playbacks

I have been clearing out my room ready for the move, (you'd be surprised how many insects and coins we have surrounding us), and I found this on some till paper from work. Something I scribbled out a while ago, and I quite liked it. I'll pop it below.

But an update on my year, I have started the book I want to write. One page in, I like it so far. It'll be a series of different people's lives. And the boxes are popping up round the house. I have found myself wondering into rooms and feeling confused, that something doesn't feel right. The candelabra will have gone, or the mirror isn't there. It's very strange. Tonight I helped Jess Sparey take our - much used (ironic comment) - exercise bike away. It's all very peculiar, to see my childhood being stripped down into fragments in front of me. I get one more farewell to the bits and pieces that shaped me and then they are going in the bin, or being driven far away.

Tonight Mum and I fell apart about the whole thing really. I'd thought of how much I'd miss my dog Spud, but not really realised how much I'd miss my batty flatmates. There's Rob; he's this quiet practical guy. But sometimes he comes out with things that make you wonder how sensible his thoughts are. He moves things as well... you can guarantee if something that's always lived in the same place has been relocated elsewhere that he's been the culprit of it. He's always, always calm. And then there's my other flatmate, Fiona. What can I say. She's fucking mental. She once woke up at 3 in the morning, couldn't sleep, so went and sent an email to someone. At 7 that morning she was complaining and panicking about why they hadn't replied. And she puts condoms in my sandwiches.

I will miss them. It's going to be strange picking through lunch and not knowing why it's all in order. Or looking for something and finding it right in the place you expect it to be. Mind you I am moving in with James so who knows what that'll open my eyes up to.

PLAYBACKS

I was little when it had happened.
Didn't think anything of it.

Fragments.

Mum used to smile at me to reassure me.
Everything's okay.
She used to stroke my neck at bed time;
Take me to Auntie Karen's
Before Dad got home.

Didn't think anything of it.

I was lying in bed when the playbacks started.
Smashed glass, grey skin,
Blood even.

They told me, the ketchup bottle had smashed.
Looking back, we only bought
The plastic bottles.

Easier to get the last bits out.

I don't think Mum ever got sick.
I think he was.

Grandma Irene never told me she'd taken up rum.
Rum made her cry,
But no one explained
So I stopped asking.

But the playbacks.

They show it in HD 3D colour.
Memories I've dug up from the very corners.
Where her hands were,
The hands that stroked my neck, flat up
Towards him.
"Don't."

Not quite the game they told me it was.
I've learnt that from the playbacks.

Just one drink?

  It's less than a week until I move in with the Kelly family and I am feeling quite strange. I think it'll be weird to be living two doors away from my parents, who are still going to be here for a while. I have so much packing to do. So much clothing!

  And my plans next year? Who knows. I would love to travel, I'm finding it upsetting to think I might not be able to see any of that. I just need to think but it's so hard to choose, I really am hanging on to any hope of getting away. So if anyone needs a travel partner... please!

  As for the list of things I wanted to achieve this year, none of them seem to be getting done yet. I'm too tired in the evening to do any writing besides this, so the idea I had to write a 'book' seems a colossal project beyond the outline I've written. The dismal weather isn't helping my ethic either.

  On the bright side, it's amazing what some exercise will do for you. I did a tiny bit the other day and felt hugely better. It's back to basics now, so my plan is to eat well, do exercise and pack up my room. I think I just need to focus on getting back to a good neutral now. Not that I'm unhappy, I just mean that my decisions will flow from a more easy state of mind.

  I did also have the best night on Saturday. I'm not sure Salisbury is as shit as they say it is. A great night is what you make it, so I think everyone needs to stop complaining and just have fun. It's not that hard once you're in the right frame of mind and you're nice and merry. The best nights start with: 'Just one drink...' Then BAM you're flat out on your arse in Voodoo with about 6 pairs of arms helping you up. Texts you forgot you sent, texts from friends of people you danced with, adds on Facebook of unfamiliar names.

 That's what I call a good night.

Time for a guest appearance...

Confusion

  Well everything seems to be happening. I have boxes in my room, that's how happening it is. On a negative side, I dropped a book on my laptop and now the backspace key is broken off. I am sad.

  My plans for next year have been scuppered recently, so I am now clueless about what I'll do next year. But, on a plus side, I am seeing James Bradwell pretending to be a prostitute on Saturday night, and I have been spending more time with some really great people recently. Things could always be worse.

  I'm starting to wonder, the number of times I mention James Bradwell on here, they might find this blog in millions of years and he'll become the next deity everyone worships... that'd be cool.

 Speaking of religion, I heard something the other day about how monkey's have religion. This science guy was talking on the radio about how certain groups of monkeys eat ants and if you don't eat ants, you can't hang out with them. Apparently 12% of their poo contains ants, for no reason at all health wise. It's just what they do. I reckon I'd not fit in well because I'd struggle to catch ants and eat them. Other monkeys have other insect religions though so maybe I'd be better off elsewhere.

 I'm not saying it's something I'm thinking of pursuing but it's always good to have emergency life plans eh?

p.s. this is funny:

http://blogdramedy.wordpress.com/2013/10/02/its-enough-to-make-you-cancel-your-reservation/

Fiction

  I read a book recently, with lots of stories combined together. One of them was from the point of this guy, and he had a girlfriend called Poppy. It was very strange, there were loads of parallels between me and her and past relationships. I realised at the end, when it split off into that Hollywood ending, exactly where we get all this shit from. I'm not saying the guy in the book was at all similar to anyone I've had things with in the past, but it infuriated me.

  The character was this scumbag, bankrupt, drug taking mess, (again not one of mine but personality traits), but at the end of the book he calls up Poppy and he asks her to marry him because he suddenly realises he loves her and it's a lovely smoochy poo moment.

  I got to thinking about all the fiction I read as a child. Hell even the expressions and 'wisedom' we hear. 'If you want someone, go out and get them' 'Don't let them get away' and sometimes those are so innapropriate. We've all had that ex, or sometimes not even an ex, who won't give you time to breath and is desperately trying to keep things going by being with you constantly. They think if they let go you'll forget them.

  What are we being fed? I thinking there was a moment as a teen where I worked out that life wasn't going to be one big fairytale, and that you'll have to work constantly to be happy with the person you love. Again, I've never been in love so I don't really know what it's like but it's obvious that's the way it works. Look at your parents, whose parents have been 100% happy forever? Exactly.

  Life is never going to be easy, all it can be is god damned awesome. And that's what I'm looking for. To be a good person, to good things and to have a fucking good time.

Run-Away

  Last night I had a minnie run-away. It'll sound pathetic when you hear it but it was a big thing to me. You know we always wonder what it would be like to get away. I had my perfect version of that last night.

  I was in the mood to go and do something, but everyone seemed to be busy and my parents went out to drop mum at choir. And then I thought, fuck it. I want to get out of here tonight, somewhere far but not too far, a place I have good memories, a place with a buzz and safety. Bam. Bath! So I drove there.

  Left a note saying 'See you later' and I drove. On the way there, my heart beat was pounding. I don't know Bath roads well, not to mention in the dark and I didn't know how safe I'd be, especially as no one knew where I was. It's the biggest adrenaline rush I've ever had. I couldn't sort my music. It was too loud and stressful and then it was too quiet I could hear my chaotic brain going. The pace was too quick or the songs had too many memories.

  Soon I arrived at Bath, the first thing I saw was a bunch of teenagers stood looking dismayed by a car which had engulfed a street light. I thought to myself - ah. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. I parked in a car park, (which by the way charges for parking at night and there were wardens a-plenty. Not impressed), and then trotted into Bath, stood on the bridge for a while, sauntered around. I found that actually there was a nice vibe everywhere.

  I saw another girl sat on a bench staring up at the bells ringing by a church, clearly alone and not waiting to meet anyone, clearly not from Bath. I wondered if she'd run too. And there was a couple near me, middle-aged. She was sat on his lap and he was going on and on about the history of this damned church and I wanted to know how much she really cared. It seemed to me they were still in that dopey stage of loving everything the other says, wanting to impress. A bunch of university students going for a night run, stretching in the courtyards and scampering after one another.

  Stumbling on, exploring the city in a new range of colour I soon decided after an hour of walking and stopping that quite frankly, I was in need of a loo. Racked with guilt for using anywhere's premises, I stopped at Nero and ordered a 'Latte' which was actually fabulous. Last time I tried to order coffee I was staring at all the fancy names, the woman said nicely: 'Wha dya wan?' and I said 'Just a coffee really' and she looked at me like I was an imp until I opted for a 'Cappuccino.' I'm young, I don't know what the difference is yet. For god's sake I had to google the word to spell check it just to share that anecdote.

  Anyway, the Latte was just as lovely and the loo trip not, (no bog roll), so I left and quickly bumped into Lizzie Gatehouse. Had a quick chat with her, I think we were both quite struck for having seen each other out of context. I even felt bad for polluting her university life with an old face. Never mind, she made me chuckle.

  Once I was back in my car, I drove home with the music on loud, my singing even louder and drove easily the whole way home, a hell of a lot happier than I had on the way. I would recommend running away to anyone. It felt thrilling.

Day Making

  Today I watched possibly the funniest thing I have ever seen happen on the street, and I was all alone, laughing like a moron.

  This guy was walking along holding alcohol in his arms as he crossed the road. He dropped one armful of it all over the road and stared at it while cars dodged him, aware he could do nothing. He then turned too quickly and dropped his other arm of alcohol and smashed the rest of it. A sparkling BMW then drove over the shards, having not noticed them, and there was an almightly bang as the tyre went.

  It sounds funny-ish but you really had to be there.

  Anyway, it got me to thinking about how he'd simultaneously made my day at the same time as ruining his own. I watched him throw away... what? Easily 100 quid's worth of alcohol. The slump of his shoulders was quite disheartening, but at the same time I was dying trying to hold my laughter in. I thought how weird it was to have two people on two sides of the road, feeling completely opposite reactions to the same event.

  It was pretty weird to see such a contrast side by side. I guess it got me thinking about how often that happens, even when two parties can witness and experience the same event the same way and yet still come out with two different view points on what happened.

Hmmmm.

La Rosiere

Firstly, I missed an update on saying goodbye to those precious people. Before I went away I said goodbye to my gorgeous friend Georgie. From the looks of the photos of her and the answerphone messages I've received, she is having a whale of a time. (Not jealous). But missing everyone heaps. Last thing we did together was going for a farewell Wagamamas, which was incredibly lovely.

Here is a photo which depicts us having 'The Last Supper'. A bit like Jesus did, except with fewer beards and more curry sauce.

This is the last photo of Georgie and I before she left *sniff*

Then there was a night with Ollie, Barney and tachos. And while I thought these boys were sticking around, Ollie dropped the bomb on me that Barney would be leaving for Australia around 3 days after I got back from La Rosiere, so I'm hoping I'll see him once more before he goes. Crazy! This is what happened on tacho night:

Now for La Rosiere. For those who I hadn't informed, I have just spent the last week in a chalet in the Alps on a cookery/chalet hosting course. And though I had some dubious suspicions about how enjoyable my time there would be, I could not have been more wrong about the experience I was about to have.

Driving through the winding, mountainous roads and ending up at a place where this is your bedroom view can't be half bad now can it? 

Then there was a fantastic meal cooked by Gordon Ramsay's last head chef... pretty impressive huh? Fantastic cook, with a wonderfully crude and twisted sense of humour. Absolutely hilarious, always cracking us up. We were then slotted into teams who would cook together, and we were assigned our rooms. I'd say it took me and the girls Hayley and Katie, (who I was sleeping and cooking with), around about 3 hours to be close as anything.

See what I mean? Doesn't take me that long to make friends when they're as weird as I bloody am.

Anyway, we had a week of good food, good wine, good company, beautiful views, beautiful walks and lots of drinking in a hot tub looking at the stars. What's not to like? Have to say the drive home with a smacking hangover was less fun, felt a little bit sick. But it's all part of it right?

By the end of the week, I can honestly say I've made two best friends. It seemed unlikely to find one person you'd get on with so well there, but even more unlikely that I'd find two good friends.

It was a hard week, waking up for cooking every day, drinking every night and staying up late started to affect us but I can honestly say it's been one of the most incredible experiences of my life and I'm going to miss it so much. The people were lovely and interesting, the views sublime and the whole feel was just perfect, just what I needed to get myself focused on the task now of moving out and starting my life.

To top that week, I got home and discovered my english A level remark went up by 18 marks, which means I now have an A! Thank goodness!

It has been an amazing year, when I think back to being in year 13 and dreading lessons, to where I am now, having been to Malia, the cooking course, getting myself a job, a place to live, a place at uni, a better grade, everything. Wow! I AM SO LUCKY.

Lastly, thought you'd all enjoy this. I learnt that the secret to a good pout this week is to say 'Wogan' in a sexy way. Life skill in the bag.