Hanging out at the airport.

Right, everyone settle down.
I will be home just after midnight on Tuesday.
So hold out till then.

Have decided to take a taxi to Liverpool Street,
get on the next Stanstead,
sit at the airport until 11pm.
I have a fucking kitchen sink to bring home with me.
Don't know how to travel light,
have bought 4 pairs of shoes,
16 tops,
2 jeans,
5 new bras,
10 new undies,
3 new jackets,
8 new socks,
5 books,
5 dvds,
5 cds,
1 new watch,
2 new headbands,
a few sweets,
a few gifts,
and Miss Wong.

I can't remember what else.

I'm not a celebrity, get me out of here (or at least drop me a line).

Wireless internet access on the farm,
who would have thought life could be so good!
I even have A's room whilst she's gap year-ing
in NZ, it has an ensuite! Woohoo.

Spent a few too many days in Blackpool,
but then again, I cried when I left my nan,
she's a batty old lady, but I still remember
living next door to her and being at her house always.

Didn't make it to Sheffield,
would have liked to,
I loved that city,
but decided it wasn't worth the effort
and expense.
Already paid twice before and not gone,
enjoy my money.

So it's nearly midnight,
I've spent a lot of this holiday asleep,
and watching I'm a celebrity get me out of here,
(loving Katie Price, I think she's great,
probably coz everyone hates her).

Good night,
or enjoy Saturday.
Sunday will be a huge gathering.
Come along.
White Hall,
Pennant.

I miss you already, I miss you always.

Feeling a bit like I should be doing something.
Cancelled comedy show, it has already begun.
Saturday night in London, my second last night,
and all I want to do is take sleeping tablets,
and finish reading my book, even though at the
same time I feel like I'm cheating this holiday
by being boring.
I just don't feel like going out again,
on my own.

I feel regretful and sad about M.
I want to be spooning him in bed.
I don't know how he feels about that,
and I'd like to know.

We're so bad for each other and yet so good.
I can't imagine life without him there.
If I get the chance, I think I'm going to
really try to be a better person to him.

Lest we remember

last night.

That's living the dream...

Less than 10 minutes left...
Let's see how it goes.

Today, went to Kensington
or somewhere near there,
shopping at H&M & Zara in the suburbs
is far better than on Oxford Street.
No queuing for change rooms or for the till!

Seem to be doing nothing other than
wandering around, places I've already been to.
Feel like I'm living up to someone elses
expectations by needing to do things that
I can tell tales about.
But fuck it, it's my holiday.

Today, got asked;
a) if I could look after someone's umbrella,
b) if I was Spanish,
and upon saying no,
c) would I like to sit with him anyway.
Can't you see I'm reading a book?

So that was it.
I rang my nan, who's excited about me visiting,
and got told my cousin is leaving on Tuesday for
New Zealand, so I wont get to see her! :(
Well maybe there's a New Zealand holiday on the cards.
Will see.
Dollface and S will be back soon.
Dollface bought some spiral thing
from the museum, so we're going to
draw circles.
I might go to the cinema,
then to the Hen and Chickens for comedy
tonight.
That's doing something!

Right a minute and a half left.

Nope that's it. Bye

This is London.

I wrote this just before 5am today.
Still not sleeping all the way through
the night, but then again, I never did,
seeing as Scully-Cat woke me up to go out...

Up early or out late,
waking at 4am in London,
I just want to get out
and walk around in my lonliness,
in my huge fuckoff headphones
and dance along the street
under my own spell.

Smiling to myself,
without shame of not having
anything to smile about,
wearing a tshirt,
jeans and boots,
sheltering my mascarad eyelashes
from the rain,
I'm burning up,
I'm on fire
and I'm not sick...
Yet.

Helping mothers with prams
get down the tube stairs,
and then again at the next set,
and again at the next,
until I take off my headphones
and say 'I should just come shopping with you?'
It's all a joke,
It's a laugh at the expense
of the difficulties of getting through everyday life.

Wandering around the city streets,
without a direction,
without any agenda,
without having to be anywhere at any time for anyone.
The tube system will always get me home,
I've been here 4 times now,
you can't get lost in London.

Buying headphones,
the kind assistant laughs
at the size that I want,
he is more than happy to help,
when I want to try out the iPod touch charger,
-We aren't really meant to open the packet,
but the manager is busy with someone...
Him asking what I'm up to,
'I'm on holiday'
- Lucky you, on holiday from what?
'working at uni',
-I used to work at a school, how long have you off?
'3 weeks',
not being asked where I'm from is special.

Feeling like the foreign one,
when I'm served by a French barrista,
because I don't recognise that almost
all shop assistants in London, are from elsewhere.
At the bank,
doing my parent's and my banking,
I'm asked where I'm from,
'Melbourne'
and seeing their face light up,
and knowing why;
I love the place too!

Whilst strangely I miss having a telly,
and Internet,
I appreciate the cheapness
of my room in a part of London
that is gloriously beautiful,
where you wouldn't recognise
the figure needed to buy
one of the four storey Victorian houses.

Walking past the zoo,
taking photos of the Zebras,
of canal boats,
and of Kinders in basements
with concrete playgrounds,
with hop scotch painted on the floor,
with house shaped mirrors
and a set of drums,
encouraging talent
and at that age,
headaches from teachers.

Growing up on this trip,
by finding myself,
not needing to buy everything I see,
not eating trash,
not eating square meals either,
just rtelying on coffee.
Buying coffee and pretending
I'm foreign to avoid having conversations
in broken English,
for I have forgotten how to talk to people.
I am painstakingly shy.
Watching the world go by
whilst I politely sip the too hot coffee,
not wanting to make a fuss.

The horendous journey almost forgotten,
but shall be notarised
to turn into nostalgia
for when I next get itchy feet.

Three sleeping tablets saw me through
patchy sleep,
laying on the cold Malaysian airport floor,
whilst it is humid as fuck outside,
taking turns to wander off,
whilst another takes care of the luggage,
watching a lone golf bag near the entrance to the terminal,
(there for 8 hours!),
until paranoia sets in,
and I worry that it too suspect
to feel safe near it,
deciding not to inform
the police patrolling with their AK47s,
not wanting to get involved,
although in either of my home countries,
I probably would,
unless my flight was due to depart,
a selfish plor to save delay
from precursive evacuation,
like my father the journey is not the destination,
only later,
when savoured as nostalgia.

Sitting at a cafe,
needing to kill two hours,
before shops open
(I am out and about very early)
I read Cold COmfort Farm,
and love it
and smile
and write page numbers down
for parts I like:
Page 107:
'I warn you,' added Mr Mybug,
'I'm a queer moody brute.
Nobody likes me.
I'm like a child that's been rapped over the knuckles
till it's afraid to shake hands
- but there's something there if you cah to dig for it.'
Flora did not cah to dig.

and
Page 109 - 110
'Aye...'tes mine,' he muttered.
'Nor house nor kine, and yet 'tes mine...
My little mop!'
He undid the thorn twig
which fastened the bosom of his shirt
and thrust the mop within.
But then he withdrew it again,
and replaced the thorn.
'My little mop!'
He stood staring at it in a dream.
'Yes. It's to cletter the dishes with,' said Flora, firmly,
suddenly forseeing a new danger on the horizon.
'Nay...nay,' protested Adam.
''Tes too pretty to cletter those great old dishes wi'.

...

And shuffling across the kitchen,
he hung it carefully on the wall
above the sink,
and stood for some time admiring it.
Flora was justifiably irritated, and went crossly out for a walk.

********
And so this is the beginning of the third day,
I can only speculte that Dollface and S
are having an entirely differene experience,
full of touristy things,
lovely food
and trying a variety of local beers.
********

And so, I will leave it here.
It is now 3 after 12pm
and I must do things.

Don't it make you smile, when the sun don't shine.

part of my role was to data enter
final student results,
this was in conjunction with
loading results via floppy disks.

Who the fuck am I trying to
impress with this? Gah!

***********************************
Speaking with A at lunch time,
I reflected on how many helicopters
were flying low
over my house on the weekend,
due to Derby Day.
"Man, they were probably looking at me
hanging out my washing and taking 50
cigarette breaks".
"There she goes again having another fag"
(I'm British I'm allowed to use the word fag).

-People aren't as obsessed with you
as you think.

Ohh stab.

Quite right.

Rightly so,
and on this,
want to find that notion that I like,
which goes something like:
"Stop being so shy,
when you walk into a room
full of people, no one gives a fuck
about you".
Something along those lines anyway
and not sure who said it.

Fuck? To write it, or not to write it?

I'm not supposed to get jigs in my eye!

So far today I have
smashed my hand into a filing cabinet,
spilt an entire glass of water on my desk,
and kicked a drawer with my foot on accident.

I'm hoping the day will get easier,
or less painful.

Get outta town.

I would be looking forward to Saturday morning,
except I will be busy doing things
that keep me from sleeping.
I feel like I have an exhausting amount
of things to do over the next 10 days.

Feeling a bit clingy towards friends at the moment,
just want them around.
They all seem to be going out of town though.
I think I'm just tired, coz all I really want is to be held
and told I was safe and loved whilst I sleep.

Ghost Planes and Exciting bands.

So the others have decided that 

I've read the assignment details incorrectly, 

and that my chosen 'site' should be the same one

for all the different projects.

There's no going back, 

I have 13 days before I go overseas 

and there's no way I'm sewing everything again.

Nevertheless, I dig the comments 

about my previous work even if it's wrong

(Not sure I was aiming for a ghost plane, 

but there you are).

"Hi C, I really like this ghost plane linear view of your site. 

The ghost plane gives me the creeps, 

it reminds me of the type of planes used during 

the second world war and i think of the old war movies. 

Murray"

and

"I like your ghost plane, 

as well as that lovely dimensional map. 

Well done."

and I'm hoping this one is about mine:

"You shouldn't be able to have such a beautiful site!! 

Not fair for the rest of us."

Magic Dirt tonight, 

was in love with Raul...

But was one of those krushes 

where you forget about him

when you're not watching him play.

Maybe next boyfriend will know how 

to play drums and teach me, 

(but not be in a band).

Actually there's no next boyfriend,

going to live the rest of my days alone.

Got asked today if I was looking 

for a new house, 

the question didn't really 

sink in for a while, 

then I got it and said 

- One should move out of the bed first.

Sharing a bed with a boy who isn't your lover,

isn't that much different than sharing one who is.

Except you get to say no.

If you chase two rabbits, you wont catch either.

That has got to be my favourite saying.

A profound moment from M last night, 

- All this time, 

we've been waiting 

and waiting,

for things to get better, 

but it should have been better

all along.

Although in saying that, 

living apart for a year and a half,

seemed that it was highly likely

that things would get better when 

we were together.

Looking back though,

it was highly doubtful,

given our history,

hence our current situation.

So here I am again.

New year.