Musings

So here i am, doing what i've done for years previous, pouring my heart into an unknown region of cyberspace. But with one difference. When i started my secret, i felt almost perverse hope, that someone would read it. Now don't mind whether it's left in the oblivion of html codes or picked up by thousands and regarded as a...whatever. You known the story, "belle du jour, girl with a one track mind" etc. infamous bloggers with gargantuan reputations preceeding them. I'm not them, i want a quiet blog with very little traffic and almost no-one reading because what i write is my own, private, diary. In all that has happened in regards to blogging i've realised that. There is no privacy on the net. It doesn't really matter either way. I'm not kidding myself; a non-entity will remain a non-entity, until you appear on one version or another of Big Brother.

Non-entity. Thats what my Father used to describe the social extremes of the population that appeared on Big Brother as. Non-entities. Forgive me, i can not spell. I have a huge hunch i have dyslexia. I still have to pay for the tests though. My Father is what triggered me to write this. I figured the best way of achieving some sort of catharsis was to write about it, right or wrong, i'm still going to attempt to try. And i've got hicups. And i'm a bit drunk.

My Father. I haven't spoken to him in over a year due to the awful circumstances in which he left this family. He had an affair. Some wouldn't call it an affair but by hiding an action it imediately makes it immoral right? There is a subconscious ommision of guilt which makes the subject wish to conceal what they have done, the guilt stems from wrong-doing. So, by default, he had an affair. He hid it, he felt guilty for it, why else would he have felt guilt unless for the reason that he was commiting some sort of wrong act. That is, at least, my theory.

For a few weeks i was the only one to know about the affair. That was torture. Outright. It killed every cell of my being knowing that i was too weak to tell my mother yet but also too weak to confront him about it. That, essentially, is the reason i have not spoken to him for over a year. I want him to ask for forgiveness for his actions in regards to myself; putting me in that position. And, until he does so, i will not relent.

But, and there is always a but, i can't help but think more is at steak than simply right or wrong actions and the reconsiliation associated with acknowedging these actions.

And this is why i write this.

I don't know whether or not i should talk to him again. A halarious, ironic, comment to inject here would be 'reaches for wine glass' but, its not halarious, or ironic. This is my life. I can no-longer write a running commentary to my life as i did when i was years younger. I've absorbed and accepted who i am and can not take a step back from the decisions within my life. I am not a severly depressed, self destructive, partially suicidal child any longer. I am an adult. A young adult, but an adult. And i have to make decisions. Decisions that will affect the rest of my life. And i really don't know wjat to do.

Work Experience

To prepare myself throughly for my (please, please please!) medical interveiws i organised some work experience. It was a hassle enough organising the bloody stuff, i felt like i was a begger wandering round all the rich people's houses crying to be let in. But, in the end, one kind person took me in.

I had no idea what to expect, all i hoped for was that i wouldn't be filing. GOD. I SWEAR. I HATE filing. It takes the absolute piss. I am an intelligent person coming into your establishment to learn, why the fuck would you make me file? I didn't do any filing THANK THE LORD.

A friend of mine is doing some work experience on the same ward (he was the one who suggested i contact the very kind doctor who took me in) and there is also another work experience person who knows nothing about medicine so i'm not all alone, thank god!

As i walked in i asked for Dr Nice-Person and waited a minute or so. I was beckoned round the corner and there Dr Nice-Person was, 6 foot 4 and black. Now, i'm not racist but my jaw dropped to the floor, then had to be picked up again quick snap so no-one noticed. I wasn't expecting him to look how he did..but now i can't imagine him looking any other way.

We did ward rounds first. The first person we saw was a drug addict. It was a bit of a shock to the system and i felt like the posh kid forced to see the most unfortunate members of society. I really felt like i was intruding on patients when we were shadowing Dr Nice-Person, it was a truely strange set-up.

UKCAT

I sat the evil (UKCAT) test today. It wasn't really too terrible.

The book i bought with practise questions to prepare myself for the evil test was what threw me. The practise questions were insanely hard. In one of the four sections i scored as low as 15% (i was too ashamed to quote my dredful score in the amazon review i wrote slating it, i beefed it up slightly). I was in tears this afternoon because i thought i was going to crash down the mountain of medical applications, shrivel up and die at the bottom.

I was so horrid to The GF. We had a big arguement over the phone, i hung up, burst into hysterics, she text me, i called her, the argument continued, it was awful. I was a bitch. Really really mean and horrid. It was almost like that was a different person, i don't normally behave in such an unkind way so i'm still reeling from my behaviour. But it's sorted now.

So glad that icky thing is out of the way.

"I love you"

We were out with friends on friday night and got rather drunk..and a bit stoned too. I was sitting and talking with the GF and, maybe it was the weed, but i felt so comfortable and cosy, like despite the horrible blaring metal music and under-age clientele, i was floating away on some happy plane. OK, it almost definately was the weed. But even if it was, it happened. I was thinking about bringing love into the conversation and before i knew it the words just popped out "i love you" and, straight after, she said; "i love you too."

It's strange though, i love her but i don't love her. I'm not in love with her, but i love her like i do one of my closest friends. If something were to happen to her i'd be devastated. Right now i'm wrapped in this lovely little blanket of normality and i can't imagine things changing so i have no idea how i'd react if something out of the ordinary happened. If we broke up i don't think i'd be able to believe it..

Today was the first day i was on a till all by my lonesome. At first i was shaking. But then the nerves subsided and i was able to enjoy the mudnane nature of my work. At one point i couldn't see the end of the que for my check-out, that was when the stress levels peaked. I secretly thought to myself "why the FUCK do they choose to put me on the busiest till. It's not FAIR. There are people just standing around, why can't i do that!? Why do they get paid to mill around doing bugger all and i have to sit here with an aching shoulder smiling falsely at mean, posh customers and have a spazz every time the till beeps loudly in my face saying i've done something wrong. WHY?!" And of course this train of thought was curbed as the till started beeping angrily once more. But now i've learnt to silence it. MWAH HA HA! I win!

First Day

Today was my first day at Waitrose!

After sitting through a 2 hour training session on customer service (i know all the techniques now) i was brought down to the check-outs to start my initiation rites. There i was, the rather tall, amazonianly proportioned, tired looking girl watching gleefully over another's shoulder and listening to her explaining all the buttons and beepers whilst beeping things. I'd occasionally offer to pack a bag for a customer if they looked like they needed some help.

After the majority of the beeping had been explained to me it was my turn to have a go. Initially, it was quite challenging but after about 20 minutes i'd picked it up and was going at the speed of a normal person. I was able to process credit/debit card transactions, scan reduced items, give chash back and generally do what a check-out girl does best. Beep. I beep for £5.15 an hour. It goes up soon though.

I've been planning how to spend my pay cheque in my head for a while. It involves the GF and going out for some expensive meals. Also, buying her a coat and some clothes as she seems to drastically lack those. Today i asked "do you love me" and she said "yes, but i'm not sure in what way." I said i felt the same.

Tired

I am exhausted and it's only quater to ten. Don't i feel like a granny.

I went for the induction training sessions at Waitrose (where i will be working as a check-out girl) this evening from 4-8 and, fuck me, was it boring. All we did was sit and stare at a computer which showed us a film then forced us to answer questions on it, repeating the mind-numbing piece of shit if we got even just one question wrong. Oh, it was torture. Bore the prisoners to death with an over zelous Mrs Laybool inquiring meticulously as to each and every proccess which Waitrose could conceivably force their food through.

I just want to cuddle up in bed with The GF and sleep for a good ten hours but NO life dictates that i can not and must engage in work, education and general betterment of my family. Whop-de-do.

I'm thinking about what i'll spend the money on when i get the first cheque. Restaurants, bars, i could even go to the cinema! Wow, i'll be (comparitvely) rich. And it's just in time for christmas as well so i can save up a bit and get some really cool presents for people. I was thinking i could get Mother Dearest a luxury spa treatment weekend thing for her and a friend, not that she'd be especially greatful but hey.

And i could even afford driving lessons. WOW. I'd be able to drive. A car. A real car. If i pass the test of course.

The Aftermath

I had the house party. It was supposed to start at 8 but people didn’t arrive till 9-9.30 due to the buggered tube network..that thing always seems to be experiencing “planned delays” and for some reason the plan the delays to co-incide with the most frustrating times. So, the people arrived, if a little later than expected.

There was about 60 people who came..it was quite a lot, I have to admit. Even I was a bit gob-smacked at the sheer volume of space they took up; i’ve never seen my house so full. There were people in the goggle-box room (which doubled as a dance floor), the breakfast room (which doubled as a bar), the kitchen and out in the garden (which doubled as a smokers paridise/place for drunken people). So basically, there were people everywhere.

Only after I had had the house party, at about 4pm, did the actual facts sink in. I’d had 60 people in my house, had loud music on, not got the place trashed and I think, I think and hope really hard that people had a good time. I was rushed off my feet constantly having to deal with idiots at the door, drunk people I didn’t know and only occasionally joing in a conversation for 5 minutes before being called to the next crisis. And I never even had time to roll a joint. No time to roll a joint at my own bloody party! What is the world coming to?!

Many gossip’s happened last night, many of which are nonsequential, many more which are reasonably remarkable. Noodle, a very close friend of mine had a recent flame semi-reignited and said flame got rather aggressive towards the drunken bean-spiller. A friend of Noodle’s revealed what noodle believes to be her “true self” as she was seen walking in from the bottom of the garden with a guy and then (although the chronology of this account may be slightly out) she was seen on the balcony doing some kind of a topless strip tease for four guys who don’t even go to the Education Establishment (E-Est.). Unfortunately I think Noodle is right.

AND another thing also happened. Gosh, lots of things that are remark worthy happened but I think I’ll save the details as it may get tedious. I had no overall vibe from the party as I was so busy but I fucking well wish I did. I want to know if people had fun, whether or not there was a good socialble atmosphere, what they thought of the general vibe, I was to know everything..but instead I know B-A. It’s nagging at my brain and I’ve tourtured The GF by getting her to re-count every single detail that could possibly help me but to no avail.

I also said to her; “I feel like I’m falling in love with you” to which she answered “so do I.”

And I do. I feel…like she is so special to me, like no-one else could ever beat her because she’s so perfect in every way, even in her imperfections, I look at her and I want to wrap my arms around her so we can be in a cocoon together but I also want her to shine, to be the person I know she can be, to grow in confidence and to be happy and I know that wrapping her up isn’t going to help with that. I only want the best for her.

In the past 2 months the relationship we’ve developed has intensified ten fold. I feel as though I different person stands before me when I see her now. She will talk to me, confide in me and ask me direct questions (occasionally) which is a huge U-turn from how it was during the summer.

It’s only just kicked in how lucky I am to have someone like her in my life, it all seems to have just flowed and there’s been little time for rejection.