DAILY A-MUSINGS

Why are there corners in life? Who thought 90 degree angles were a good idea for the world that the soft doughy fleshy human race live in?

In the natural world there are very few corners in the places where humans settled; think rolling hills, soft sands, marshy meadows and riversides. I suppose you could say cliffs and rocks are pretty sharp, but I don’t know any lasting civilisation that settles on sharp places.

Well, there were the Incan tribes that carved their mountain side into 90 degree angles on the hills, but look what happened to them; do you know any Incans? Yeah me neither.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve cracked my knees and elbows, thighs and skull off corners that really didn’t need to be there; and these incidents could have been avoided if the fuckwit who made corners had stopped to think for one cunting minute and realised, “Pointy things don’t agree with people”

Stupid man. I’m guessing it was a man, because a woman sure as hell didn’t invent corners; probably because she was downtrodden in a male dominated society so couldn’t have voiced a rebuttal to the “Corner Implementation” of 1567BC (factual date- no need for references)

de ja vu is my own little hipster in my head

I’ve been pressured to write again because it’s pancake day, and that means….

PICTURES OF PANCAAAACKSSS!

deliberate spelling mistakes and sugary loveliness.

Follow the link for a hasty photograph taken on my potatiPhone

http://imgur.com/lOjnH

I never really took religion seriously when I was small. Still don’t but even then I just mucked around when I got dragged to Sunday School with my sister, dressed in matching yellow, flowery, old-lady-lace Laura Ashley dresses and made to fold my hands and read tiny writing from the Hymn Book for 2 hours.

Hated it.

Why couldn’t God be cool and be like “Ooh you don’t have to visit me every Sunday, and don’t worry about that fiver each week, I’m God, I really don’t need it! Have an ice cream and go back to playing Tomb Raider, we cool!” Never understood it. And with all that money they got every week, did they ever pay for central heating? Nope.

So I had to endure visits almost every week to a place that seemed to gather the strangest people in my opinion;

There was a girl who would sing with her eyes closed and hands extended to the roof during EVERY song, a guy whose guffawing laugh made my whole family cringe and the reverend had a handshake like a wet fish but he insisted on shaking everyone’s hand as they left the building.

Another thing about church that confused me was the fact that the band they had play every week, weren’t very good; was it a thing that if you were Christian you could only play piano like you had hams for fists? And if you were so blessed, how come He forgot to give you a decent singing voice so at least hymn solos were bearable to listen to?

After a few years of painfully pulling my way through sporadic Sunday School classes where the other kids knew the Lord’s prayer and I didn’t, and drawing the stories of Jesus’ miracles which I also didn’t know, my mother finally weakened enough to stop taking me altogether.

Years later, I decided to join a youth club on a Friday night purely for the reason boys went to it, and we were all pretty sexually charged, even though the majority of us were 12-14; dirty children. I always ran there in my pink sketchers because I was really cool and Britney was still awesome.

It was great because we only had to go through 5 minutes of prayer at the end which could be avoided if you left before we got herded into the common room; before that it was a free for all with juice, sandwiches, sausages, air hockey, foosball, badminton, volleyball and football; it was like a weekly kids party.

I stopped going after a while because my friends there went a bit off the rails doing stuff like smoking, taking weed and getting fingered round the back of the church, all stuff I wasn’t interested in doing…yet. 

Maybe the message of youth club and church really did set in if I didn’t want to do any of those rebellious things, or maybe I was too afraid of the consequences if my bloodhound nosed mother smelled cigarette smoke in my hair.

Now that Christmas is over for another year, it’s time to look ahead to new things.

2012: I’ll be starting a new job, in a place I love, around people I’ve missed like hell and I can’t wait for it to all begin.

The latter half of 2011 was a bit of a flop for me; I moved back home after graduating with a great degree in the naive hopes there would be jobs and money just waiting for me, and I was disappointed. I had this idea that I’d be working in the city, dressing smartly and earning like a “real person” but the dream fell slightly short and I learnt my lesson…the world doesn’t revolve around me and if you don’t expect the unexpected you can be very disappointed.

It sort of takes me back to my childhood where I’d swap and change my ideas of what profession I wanted to have when I was older; I was never the little princess who dreamed of her wedding dress, instead I’d fantasize about the places I could visit and discover if I was an archaeologist, or the immense and colourful creatures hiding in the corals if I was a marine biologist. Those were the types of aspirations I had until my mother mentioned to me that scientists had to be good at maths (which I wasn’t and still cannot master) and was constantly in the fear of having to work in McDonalds if I didn’t work hard to be good at maths.

Luckily I found my niche when I left school; design and technology, something which I absolutely adored doing at university and if I actually applied myself and worked hard like my sister does, then I maybe would have gotten a 1st.

I’ll admit I’m a bit resistant to hard work and I’ve always been a bit average as a result, so maybe that’s what set me up to fall at the first hurdle when I left university. And maybe it’s my apathy towards hard work that causes me to suffer from jealousy at other people’s achievements. I get pretty green when people do well, but then I always sit back and remember it’s because they work hard and I should do that to.

So these last few months I took my own advice and ploughed into job applications and as luck would have it, the new job I’ll be taking fell into my email inbox like a bird from the sky.

My university seemed to be beckoning me back, as if it was a mutual feeling that we missed each other deeply.

And now I’ll be going back, spending New Years with great friends, and getting settled back into where I feel I belong at this moment in my life…

I couldn’t be happier.

Watching people is a great pastime of mine, I always find myself looking at what people do and the way they do things and I find it fascinating;

There used to be a Burger King in my home town, which was embedded into the street, and by the window was a row of seats where you could sit and watch the people go by at ground level, and I just loved sitting there looking at people just go about their daily business.

The little things amuse me; some people I work with have their tells when they’re going to get sales, and it’s hilarious because the client can’t see what they’re doing but in a face to face sales environment, it would look completely bizarre. One guy stands up and walks around just looking at the ceiling, another shuts his eyes and puts his hands behind his head, and one girl will sit and shake her head as if in despair even if the call is going well.

I have no idea what my tells are but I’d be fascinated to hear what they are.

I was once told that when I trip over something or nearly fall over, I look like I’m dancing because I recover quickly with a little hop step.

Maybe the fact I love watching people goes back to when I was a child and used to enjoy re-enacting scenes from Disney movies; I had every scene from Beauty and the Beast perfected by age 4, and even had my own little basket and blue book to carry round pretending to be Belle, and I always paid keen attention to my relatives mannerisms around me.

It gets to the point where I am so tuned into what people’s mannerisms and affectations are, that I can tell who has entered a room or walked by without looking to see who it is, just by the sound of their feet dragging, or the gentle clearing of their throats. Perhaps it’s weird but it’s something I’ve always done…

This blog always makes me feel like a bit of creep.

I keep having dreams where the things around me are integrated in the story.

From a young age I’ve slept with my eyes slightly open; there’s a creepy picture of me when I was 7, sleeping in my 101 Dalmatians nightie “Awww little ginger in her ni..wait..what the fuck is with her eyes?” 

I seem to sleep with them flickering slightly open and because it’s not a habit I’m not consciously aware of, I’ve not been able to fix it.

So lately I’ve not been sleeping brilliantly and then the weird eye thing gets worse and now I’m getting surreal nightmares where my reality integrates seamlessly into my virtuality in my mind.

Small desk items jerkingly come to life, coats on the back of doors become leering people and my phone alarm becomes a foreboding siren of an unknown terror.

Just as the title suggests, it is some surreal shit.

Most recently I had a nightmare where I was experiencing a “hemmed in” sensation, as if something was closing in around me; what was actually happening was a rather entertaining display of me flailing my limbs around and entangling myself in my quilt, which has a habit of losing the corner of the duvet, so the empty sheet wraps itself tightly around my face and neck. Soon after this restrictive feeling, my morning alarm went off and sent me into a wild panic of confusion and foreboding, which quickly passed when I realised how stupid I looked.

Although it was funny on hindsight, that panic during my recent nightmares is too surreal for my liking. 

Yeah sooo…I’m a freak.