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  • Mystical xmas

    I have been spending christmas with my son. Not doing much else, just playing with the adorable little bundle of giggles.
    I don't need alcohol to enjoy myself today (or any other day).
    I'm not glued to the tele, I will be watching Dr Who, which I love.
    I made a normal dinner for myself, and have decided to leave off making The Dessert until I've finished the washing up. Properly finished, which is something I haven't done for over a year. (Adam being on bottles now is very much helping with this, little by little it's getting done.)
    We even had a lie in, for us, getting up at the extremely reasonable 8:30am.
    I've had blessed minimal contact with my family today.

    But apparently this is some kind of travesty unto christmas, according to the family I have had contact with today.
    Jesus fucking Christ, grow up. If you can't get through the day without being pissed, stuffed full-to-vomit with food, and sat wedged into a tv armchair then there's something VERY wrong with you. If you enjoy that, fine, but if you can't comprehend someone not being able to enjoy themself without that shit, well just fuck off. Seriously. It's not mandetory.

    It's not some mystical method of self flagelation, it's simply enjoying the company of my son, and delighting in his joy.

  • 5am is a perfectly reasonable getting up time

    Four months on and I'm really into the swing of this mumming thing, even though we've both been ill this past week (including delightful night sweats for me!) I have managed to behave like an actual grown up for a decent proportion of the time.

    Adam, even when riddled with snot, remains a delight. Smiling, laughing, "talking", and generally having a fun temperament unless he's hungry. He has cheered me up when I've had a fever, given me a great excuse to order-in illness provisions (can't manage stairs/buggy whilst THAT weak), and provided late night entertainment when I can't sleep.

    Of course, he is also quite a large cause for sleep depravation, demands ever-increasing amounts of milk such that my boobs can't keep up, generates a 600% increase in washing and rubbish production, and has lungs on him that would startle an elephant.

    But I don't begrudge him his little quirks. I don't work, and only go to uni 3 days a week, so bedtime is anytime; I get food vouchers which cover supplemental milk (and fruit n veg); taking out the rubbish incentive is much higher when half the rubbish is full of poo bags; and I can happily phase out the crying when I need to.

    The item which has been my stalwart defender during this transitional time is my tumble dryer. It's 15 years old. My mum bought it when she had a small lottery win, and passed it- no, him- onto me when I moved into my first flat. He never breaks down, has two buttons (hot/cold) and a time-dial, and collects lint like no roll of cellotape could ever hope to achieve. He also generates a nice warmth in autumn/winter. Not so helpful in hot times, but that's what clothes horses are for. Or night time.
    Oh sure if I had a dishwasher that'd probably have won most-useful-thing-ever, but I've aaalways wanted one of those! Tumbles has quietly been there in the background all this time, ever faithful, never wavering in his loyalty, just doing his job, efficiently, well, and without a fuss. If this were a romance I'd be marrying HIM, not flash Mr Dishwasher.

    And so, despite recent not-even-being-able-to-eat-crisps illness, I can be happy in the knowledge that Adam shall be arriving at nursery on Monday with plenty of clothes changes, and that I can leave the house in non oh-that-will-do clothes to take him.
  • Parenting tips from the immature

    1. during birth you will shit yourself. You probably already know this, but what you may not know is that your arse may decide to have a bit of a prolapse as well. Don't worry, it'll sort itself out after a few days, but your first poo will be extremely uncomfortable. You have been warned.

    2. Ask a few different nurses/midwives about nappy changes, they've all got different methods, or some will just show you the basics without any little tricks. Handy trick = keep nappy under arse whilst wiping (folded over), just incase of any enthusiastic pooing etc.

    3. Your baby will try and put their foot in the soiled nappy, but you've got a good grip, right? Nope, they're buggers!

    4. Babies have ZERO self-preservation skills, ie they will continue wriggling just when you're picking them up and try to take a death-dive to the floor. Preventable by having a hand either side of em: support head from left, arse from right etc.

    5. Once your new one has gotten out of the sleep-eat-poop-sleep routine, they WILL get bored. hand-held toys will not be enough, an activity "gym" (a mat with loads of cool stuff built in, like light and noises) is probably a good idea. This also means you can do some washing up or something for once.

    6. Health visitors worry if your home is too tidy. It means you're spending too much time of the house, and not enough on the baby.

    7. If there's a possiblity that your baby is ill, but the midwive/health visitor is a snooty bitch and you not want to be seen as a "bad mum" don't try and rationalise the symptoms, just get the sprog checked out. Your doctor will be expecting panicky visits, don't worry about it ;)

    8. Got a boy? First time mum? His foreskin is supposed to stay like that, just clean his winky as best as you can, and don't try to push it back. Srsly, apparently it sorts itself out when he's 4 or 5 or so!

    9. pay attention to straining. If it's deffo for a poo then don't worry, but if it might be for a wee, go to the docs, as urinary tract infections can turn out to have underlying causes that should very deffinately not be ignored.

    10. midwives etc will only tell you so much of their own volition, do your homework! I lubs the interwebs, for instance some babies teeth horrifically early, some late, checking forums is a nice way to be reassured that everything is fine.

  • Motherhood

    Average day:
    00:00- wake up, change nappy, feed Adam
    00:50- sleep
    03:00- wake up, change nappy, feed Adam
    03:40- sleep
    06:00- wake up, change nappy, feed Adam, get thrown up on
    07:00- sleep
    09:30- wake up, change nappy, get weed on, re-change nappy, feed Adam
    10:00- sleep
    11:30- wake up, change nappy, go into lounge, get breakfast whilst Adam screams for food, sit down with breakfast and Adam, feed Adam whilst scoffing breakfast and playing a computer game
    14:00- change nappy, try to clean projectile pooing off of sofa, be glad it wasn't the carpet I don't own, continue with computer game
    16:00- change nappy, feed Adam, Adam throws up on boob/hand (hand is, for some reason, worse), get Adam settled, go have bath/shower
    18:00- turn on PC (unless computer game is on the PC), watch Numbers on Five USA, play facebook games, change nappy, feed Adam
    20:00- change nappy, watch more tele online (retuned tele to play N64 months ago and lost all channels, not much point in retuning again as reception is shit), or listen to podcasts, feed Adam
    21:00- remember to eat dinner
    22:00- move through to bedroom, change nappy if Adam is awake, feed Adam if is awake
    22:30- sleep

    Non-average day includes expressing milk for the next day- if am leaving the flat the next day; and, erm, leaving the flat.

    Yes, really that many nappy changes. Glad I bought about 500 newborn size before I plopped him out! (Nappy sizes are judged by baby weight, they say on the packet, but not when you're trying to buy at tesco.com, tsk)(Also, supermarket baby clubs send you vouchers, but they aren't online vouchers, and are for big bulky stuff *sigh*)

    Adam is adorable, sometimes even when he's screaming, but for that you really have to be here... lookit my twitpics for evidence of cuteness :)

    90% of my tweets seem to involve Adam, which I suppose is to be expected as he's extremely demanding of my attention...

    Family memebers keep encouraging me to get out and go to mummy clubs, but frankly they don't know me very well! Adam gets to do important socialising from September when I go back to Uni, but other mums can fuck right off as far as I'm concerned. I've also been told I'll be cooing over other people's babies in future. Erm, no. Adam is wonderous because he's mine not because he's a baby. When we were in hospital the second time a couple of the nurses were asking me who I had at home to help me, I calmly said noone and they looked confused. Okay, so I was a bit stressed and panicky at the time as my child was ill, but I am a capable person and resented their suppositions, fortunately twitsquadron had bolstered my mood enough to just stare the nurses down and mention that I was supposed to have had a home birth, which for some reason seemed to convey that I wasn't a complete numpty.

  • "I don't want to be any trouble, but..."

    So, I've had my bouncing baby boy, Adam. I was supposed to be having a
    home birth, however he had different ideas about this...

    Wednesday, 15th June 2011:
    4am- waters break. Adam's kicking like a Luke so I can't feel
    contractions. I phone the assessment centre at the hospital and they
    tell ms to come in if still can't feel them by 7am. spread water proof
    stuff around birth area. More watery breakiness. In fact, every time I
    stand up I leak like you wouldn't believe. I have not bought enough
    lady pads for this...
    7am- ...I go in to the assessment centre. I get a heartrate and
    contraction monitor for a couple of hours; contractions are there just
    masked by sproggling. Get told when to call midwife out.
    9.30am- get back home. Eat. Sit. Be bored. Play ffxiii.
    2pm- play ffxiii. Be bothered by contractions. Continue to graze on
    high energy food and drink.
    5pm- midwife rings, how am I doing? Can she come round?
    6pm- midwife arrives. Contractions not yet close enough or strong
    enough for her to stay.
    7pm- nap.
    8pm- ffxiii.
    11pm- ring midwife, tell her how I am doing. Can she come round?
    11.45pm- midwife arrives. Contractions closer, stronger, but not
    regular enough for her to stay. Readies notes. Tells me when to call.
    Says if not in proper labour by 8am Wednesday to go to assessment
    centre as with waters gone there's a risk of infection. Says to try
    having a bath.

    Thursday, 16th June 2011:
    1am- have bath. Lying down agony for contractions. Bitch.
    1.30am- ffxiii, nibbles, ouchy. Tired. Doze between contractions.
    Using iPhone app to track times. Dozing makes contractions even less
    regular. Can't stay awake for long though. Should also mention have
    been peeing AND pooing every hour.
    7am- phone assessment centre. Get told to come in for 8.15am, try to
    book taxi, completely booked for school runs, only available at 7.15am
    or from 9am. I pack a bag, hastily.
    7.30am arrive at hospital, upset, underprepared, and in pain. Get told
    they're shut to admissions as there's some kind of baby explosion and
    are full, re-explain waters situation, get admitted.
    9am- put on ward with 5 other waiting-to-be-induced ladies, I appear
    to be the only one having contractions. Ouchy. Eat toast. Close bed
    curtain things. Try not to breathe through contractions too loudly.
    Get annoyed by neighbour's constant texts, phone calls, and twattery.
    1pm- Finally get told what's going to happen, and have
    heart/contraction monitor affixed (uncomfortable elastic banding
    holding two round, bulky sensors in place). Eat lunch.
    1.30pm moved to labour ward, get thingamy in left hand, get hormone
    drip to give nice strong, regular contractions. Hooked up to
    heart/contraction monitor, told how it works for third time.
    4pm- hormone thing REALLY works, but told have to have 4 hours of
    regular contractions before birth likely to start.
    6pm- ARGH. Gas n air. Argh.
    7pm- ask for stronger pain relief, but am having involuntary pushing
    thanks to drip, midwives take one look at lady area and say is too
    close to birth for anything else. Told me not to push. I hate them.
    7.30pm- told to push. Am told gas n air is making my pushing crap, but
    can tell is too soon for pushing. Not allowed to breathe gas n air,
    but allowed to bite it.
    7.55pm- am told Adam's heart rate worrisome.
    7.58pm- next contraction = I push like a muther and Adam is born.
    Ripping me right fucking open.
    8pm- blurred, I can has baby, many stitches (well, one long running
    stitch), thing in right hand, fluids of some kind in each hand, blood
    pressure cuff, heart rate monitor, oxygen mask, catheter, tired. 3
    units of blood- later on, involved left hand, then spillage, then
    right hand. No idea when, was sleeping, Adam in cot next to me.

    Friday, 17th June, 2011:
    1.30am- eat toast.
    8am- eat toast.
    12pm- baaaath! (catheter gone now, so too have all drips, one hand
    thing still in though, wear latex glove in bath to protect it.) Bed
    like a scene from dexter (I refused to go get cleaned up until all
    tubeage was gone).
    At some point- get moved down to mumsy ward, 4 bed ward, one set of
    occupiers are The Perfect couple, Daddy Perfect does skin to skin with
    their sprog, helps me move bed-table thing when didn't need help, and
    is generally annoyingly nice. Deffo would have throttled him if he
    were with me at birth! Mummy Perfect just sort of lounges around being
    pathetic. It is hot.

    Saturday, 18th June, 2011:
    Unknown- surprisingly easy to block out other people's babies'
    screaming, sleep, then wake for Adam's cries. Weird. Changed 2nd nappy
    and all afterwards, quite proud. Boob juice floweth well.
    5.30pm- home! Change nappies, feed, sleep, eat etc.

    Sunday, 19th June, 2011:
    12.30pm- dif midwife phones to say is coming round, phone on silent,
    voicemail, unclear number left, ring wrong number, leave message.
    Re-ring, find out is wrong number, ring right number.
    2pm- midwife turns up. Adam slightly jaundiced, and has lost 9% of
    body weight. Makes me feel like is my fault. Hope she dies in horrible
    circs.
    4.30pm- watch Castle, Oooh tis good! Cheers me right up.

    Monday, 20th June, 2011:
    5.45am- Adam's umbilical cord falls off!
    10.30am- I dun a poo! Ouch! Turns out pain relief for stitches is VERY
    constipation inducing (dihydracodene).
    11am- breastfeed support worker arrives. Wow, such character, I may
    fall asleep just listening to her waffle stuff I already know.

    Tuesday, 21st June, 2011:
    MY midwife turns up, very reassuring about jaundice, all-round wonderful lady.

    Wednesday, 22nd June, 2011:
    Nappies, boobs, sleep, eat, Facebook games, iplayers.

    Thursday, 23rd June, 2011:
    11am- another day another midwife, this one took some blood from Adam
    as his jaundice looked worse.
    3pm hospital called, can I bring Adam in as bilirubin levels are quite
    high? Yesofcourse, er, not sure how I'd get us home though what with
    the buses... Overnight stay? Oh. Pack bag in a hurry.
    3.30pm- on bus, 2 missed calls from hospital, 1 blank voicemail.
    4pm- at hospital, 2nd voicemail but assume it's hospital again and put
    phone in flight mode. Was asked by nurse if I got stuck in traffic,
    despite my already mentioning the bus thing.
    4.30pm Adam is under UV light with eyemask on, UV pad underneath his
    back, bloods taken, nasal tube inserted, fluids into hand. Shedloads
    of baby formula given by nasal tube, until he throws up. apparently
    fluids of both kinds will help just as much as UV. Upsetting. Nurses
    lovely, even get me a dinner, with two huge slabs of cake.
    7.30pm- staff change over, our nurse is much more competent than
    previous one, very reassuring.
    7.45pm- other mum in our small nursery (max baby occupants = 3) is
    show how to use breast pump to express for her baby, I ask to also be
    shown, pump out boob juice, so no more formula for Adam.
    11.30pm- allow nurse to show me to my room, round the corner from
    Adam. Park pram, return to Adam.
    -blur- pump, worry, watch Adam, eventually go to bed for a few hours.
    Nurse comes to ask if will cuddle Adam for a bit as he won't settle,
    am I okay to breastfeed? (mummy's boy :D )

    Friday, 24th June, 2011:
    7.30am- staff change over, we get a complete twit. Keeps asking me if
    I'm okay, want to punch her face in. Competent at job, but appears to
    be phobic about changing nappies. Asks me if I'm okay to change Adam's
    nappies, duh, yes, he's 8 days old, not 8 hours!
    8am- toast.
    8.15am- watch Adam, pump after breastfeeding to make sure he's getting
    enough milk.
    11am- ask bint-nurse what I should do about lunch, cafe on ground
    floor or restaurant in main hospital building or vending machines
    dotted about. I stay with Adam.
    1pm- go for a nap.
    3pm- back with Adam, bint asks if I got lunch. Then, very unsubtly,
    tries to find out if I'm poor, assumes lack of lunch if money related
    rather than not-going-that-far-from-my-child. I get free food brought
    to me at meal times now, as if am a patient. She then tries to settle
    adjacent baby, after 5 mins of screaming she checks nappy. Baby's mum
    is downstairs in maternity ward so bunt has to change nappy. She puts
    latex gloves on.
    3.15pm- food lady asks what I want for dinner, worried that I don't
    want crisps and am unfussed about cake, puts cake on my order. She's a
    nice lady.
    5.30pm- just fed Adam, expressing via pump, dinner lady tells me food
    is on table. Finish pumping. Go have dinner.
    7.30pm staff change over, nice nurse, but not quite as good as
    previous night's nurse. Have already learnt that passive aggressive
    gets things done, ie "he feels really warm" is super effective,
    witnessed other mum just demanding temp check, tsk! Never piss off the
    people caring for your child! This tactic had already worked well when
    1st UV lamp was changed for stronger one, was on heated mattress as
    well, raised concern about temperature, mattress went. Some people
    just don't fucking think. Also overheard nurses taking the Pisa out of
    a mum who went down the "I don't want to be a bother, but..." route,
    apparently more annoying to them that outright demands. Mums expected
    to be concerned, so passive aggressive route is more honest, less
    pushy.
    8.30pm- latest blood results are good, can just have the UV pad now,
    lamp and eye mask gone, Adam very pleased! Once drip finishes this
    cycle he can come sleep in my room with me! Nurse gives towels so can
    have a shower.
    late- I am a idiot. Sleep good, ill baby loud, not compatible. But he
    doesn't even need the UV pad now, so it's nice and dark for naps.

    Saturday, 25th June, 2011:
    5.30am bloods taken from Adam again, involves pricking his heel and
    squeezing blood out, much less annoying for him when he's feeding,
    good thing he's already on when the doctor arrived. Tis a bit odd how
    quickly you couldn't give a shit about who sees your boobs.
    7.30am- oh fuck, not her again. Lazy, poo-phobe is back, couldn't
    chasexa blood result if it splashed all over her carefully made-up
    face.
    8.30am- press nurse call Hutton thing as his hand tube receptacle is
    coming unstuck. Get dif nurse, who puts sticky thing precisely over
    other sticky thing. Idiot. Remains loose.
    9.30am- running our of clothes for Adam as have run out of my Napier
    and the hospital ones are crap, causing many wee leaks, bint gets more
    clothes from spares, sizes them up against Adam, then believes me
    about long-baby issue. He wears 3-6month baby grows ffs! Comes back
    with dif clothes, puts them on him as I'm nervous about catching the
    hand tubeage.
    11am- ward rounds. Doctors come to assess Adam, say he can come home today!
    1pm- bunt FINALLY removes all tubeage, and starts discharge paperwork.
    3pm- if bint doesn't pull her socks up I'm going to leave. I mentally
    give her half an hour.
    3.30pm- psychic bitch gets her act together and say I can go,
    paperwork in the post.
    4pm taxi! Nice driver puts main part of pram in the back, helps me put
    seatbelt on the carry cot, and is generally REALLY helpful.
    HOME!
    5pm- bath, ie sit in bath while filling, have two minutes of wallow
    once full, Adam starts demanding boob juice, wash hair, get out of
    bath. World of good though.
    9pm- Adam is hungry.
    11pm- Adam still hungry.

    Sunday, 26tg June, 2011:
    1am- Adam still hungry, may go insane now.
    1.30am- sneakily get Adam to sleep by feeding, then when having his
    faux sleep reclining carefully, and not fucking moving him. Sleep!
    4am- half hour feed then out like a light.
    6.30am- another half hour then sleepy again.
    9am- making quiet hungry sounds, but not urgent, I fall back asleep.
    10am- still quiet, but I manage to wake myself up to give a good solid
    hour of feeding, then go to the loo.
    11.15am- he's still a bit hungry, 10 minutes and he's sparko.
    11.55am- more please mummy! Another 10 minutes.
    2pm- he's still asleep! But my boobs are all leaky, so may wake him up
    in a min...

    TBC...
    Check twitter for piccies of him btw ;)

    (This post may pop up twice, as originally sent from iphone's email, not turned up yet so...)

  • Soon...

    Soon I shall spawn the youngling, and soon I shall finish my first year of Uni.

    He writhes.
    I nest.
    I study.
    I flounce.
    He kicks.
    I eat.
    He makes my belly button click when he hits it hard enough.
    I sleep. (When he stops kicking me for being in the wrong position.)

    That's about it really, for the last few months anyway. Oh there was a piles incident. But not any more. As far as I know.
    Only one pair of maternity trousers fits me now. And it's man made material. Just when it's getting warm, yay!
    Ante natal classes aren't classes, they're actually quite fun and informative, and they give you free stuff and tell you what benefits you're entitled to.
    I now own more storage items than I can currently use, but I'm sure they'll be full soon enough...
    Still looking forward to Skyrim in November, if little Adam hasn't decided to be a software developer by then, he will do afterwards :D

  • Crunching Candy

    When I was 8 or 9 my concept of reality was shaken. By rhubarb and custard sweeties.

    At school we learned that sucking sweets was worse for your teeth than crunching, as the nasty teeth eroding sugar stayed in your mouth for as long as the sweet did.
    Fast forward a few months to my next visit with my dad at my Grandma's.
    My dad has filling, lots of them, metal buggers.
    I ate a rhubarb and custard sweet, sucking for a while then dutifully cruching away as instructed. However.... My dad was nearby and told me that sucking the sweets was much better for my teeth. No reason why, and he was wincing when he said it. The sound of my cruching was doing something nasty to his fillings, and he said so.
    He put his comfort above my toothy well-being, my own dad!
    He'd LIED!

    This opened my eyes to the fact that adults, even the ones you trust the most, will happily lie to children.
    It horrified me.

    I don't think I'll do that with my little one, at least I hope I don't.

  • Surprise!

    As delightful as being four months pregnant is, I could do without my ex texting me. And ringing me when I don't reply, to see if I'm "okay".
    It's the intrusion of my personal space that I resent, because he is quite nice, just.... Flawed. Annoying. Irresponsible. Juvenile. Thicker than two short planks. Basically, not looking good for dad material. Which is tricky, as he IS the dad :-/

    While I carefully manage not to fall over on the ice, he assumes I'll be walking up the hill to the hospital for the first scan.
    When I've mentioned how bad the ice is and falling over is not a good idea, he suggests walking back with him.
    When the ice has gone and I go to the shops, he rings me to make sure I'm not going out and am staying away from the ice.
    When at the first scan he seems to think the babe will be bean sized, when at over three months gone I have s baby bump and can see the little one's heartbeat in the bath.
    When invited out to dinner "on him" it turns out he's more interested in trying to tell me my flaws and faults as a girlfriend (ex) the entire time, and seems to be surprised when I don't rise to this.
    He still hadn't registered at a doctors, dentist, or gone for that eye exam he NEEDS.
    He refuses to stop smoking, and doesn't brush his teeth enough to rid them of roll-up stains.
    He seem to think earning money is the best way to be a responsible parent, yet planned on being a stay-at-home dad while we were together.
    He has done no pregnancy research, no baby research, and has yet to even inquire about ante-natal classes.
    He lives with a psychopath who has threatened to slit my throat in the past, yet he claims this nutter is "fine" with kids.

    I have a pregnancy book, a baby book, promise of baby clothes and prams etc from friends, ante-natal classes booked, names chosen, budget worked out, home birth planned and investigated INCLUDING the "third stage of birth", budget includes moving to a bigger place which actually allows children as residents, and is okay with home birth. I have winkled the dates of the summer exams out of my tutors, informed student support that I'm pregnant investigated support post-birth, and know what to do on my student finance claim form.

    He is an idiot, I am prepared. This does not bode well for him.
    As much as a parent should be able to spend time with their child, how do you judge their fitness to do so?
    And so his texting and calling annoy me more because unless he pulls his socks up I may have to make a very hard decision.

  • Uni, Him, Hum

    's nice, except for all the students.

    My first week of Uni was okay, boring, interesting, time wasting, engaging, but mainly filled with me absolutly despising most of the younger students.
    Don't get me wrong, there are a couple of very lovely people, but if there're any more than a couple they're hiding themselves well.
    If I never have to listen to another 18 year old's fake nails tapping on their phone during a lecture, it will be too soon.
    Fortunately, they are a bunch of idiots, so hiding my contempt isn't too hard. When I bother hiding it.
    My college friends are loving it, they all seem to have missed their teenage years of fun and are reclaiming those timnes now. Well, all except the one I like the least, they're being the most grown up about it and therefore the most likeable. Should I be annoyed about that? *shrug*

    "Dave", my new person-I'm-seeing, can be frustratingly easily distracted at times, is petrified of commitment, has good friends who'd probably die/kill for him but who are also kind of bad influences on him in some ways, rarely shows any signs of self respect or confidence, but is lovely.

    And insatiable.
    This is technically a minus, as I am significantly out of practice and injuries have occured, but I'm pretty sure if he was the opposite I'd be complaining much, much more vehemently.

    He's also not over his last relationship.
    This is not exactly a problem, but I can foresee myself getting fed-up with the bouts self-loating he has, albeit infrequently, as I should be making him feel good about himself. Not just by saying or doing the right things, but simply by liking him. No, I don't mean "aren't I wonderful? Shouldn't he be blessed by my presence in his life?!", but just the fact that someone likes him should lift him, right? So when he gets depressed I can take it personally, as though I'm not good enough to make him happy. Though he only shows these low moments when he's drunk. But he drinks a lot (in my book), so... :-/
    I know it's bollocks, I've had depression- I know it's a cunt -but it's not a reaction I can help. But I know I'll just end up getting fed up with feeling inadequate and stop seeing him. Which would be stupid. As he's fucking awesome.

    Bah, I'll deal with it as it comes up. Or actually mention it to him..? Damn, that'd just make him feel worse.

    Anyhow, I've been mostly enjoying myself, ignoring teenagers, and winning at complaining.
    Yes, complaining is a sport, and my complaining has actually resulted in the horrible mega-loud hum noise that was recently installed on a nearby building moved, and under threat of legal action by the council. The naughty peoiple didn't get planning permission and also failed to give a fuck about the listed-building status of the property.
    *smug overload*

  • Thank You David Schneider

    My "fearless" self set off to the pub last night. Not to meet up with a friend, but to ask out the guy I like.
    At first I was disappointed/relieved, as he wasn't there.
    And then... He was.
    Not being a complete lunatic I did have a reason to talk to him, and a reason for being at the pub in the first place. But first I had to choose my walking-over-to-the-bar-oh-hello! moment. He picked up his glass and, already having quaffed (literally *facepalm*) my drink, I pounced.
    He invited me to join him (and his friend- male), and made pleased-to-see-me noises :)

    And so ensued much chatting, some drinking, and slight foot nudging.
    Eventually the pub closed, so we went to another.
    His friend came with us, and was very nice, though my guy, let's call him... Dave (in Schneider's honour), had expressed his wish that we could be alone...
    Whilst his friend very nicely got a round, I nonchalantly put my hand on the table, near my current drink, yet also near Dave's hand. In a vastly pleasing short space of time we were holding hands!

    When this pub closed we meandered back to Dave's, sharing a few kisses on the way.

    He lives in a house share, and one of his house-mates came and said hello as soon as we had gone up to his room. Fortunately, I'd already been told about him, so I humoured him for a few minutes then gently turned him round and propelled him out of the door, shutting it behind him. He took this in good grace :>

    *night of passion*

    He *cough* likes the same things I like *cough*, automatically massages, and is wonderfully snuggley. :D

    It turns out he's been subtly trying to get my attention since January, and I am a thicko!

    He's already texted me as well!

    I has a happy

  • Greenwich Comedy Festival

    My epic* journey began at half seven on Sunday morning. It wasn't supposed to, I just had an early night and consequently woke up naturally early. I managed to faff around until leaving time, and began the day's love affair with my iPod. Train one was full of wankers on phones, chatting across aisles, wearing basks that gave no boob support or nipple coverage, and gorgeous hotties. iPod made most of these distractions fuck the fuck off, and I was in high spirits for the second train. Such high spirits that, after hearing the announcement re first class upgrades, I made my way forward and sat down in the comfiest train chair ever made. I was persistently asked if I would like tea or coffee. "No thank you" was my eternal reply, as I wondered when I'd need to pay my upgrade.

    The conductor made a pass down the train while I was reading, so I failed to notice him or acknowledge him in any way. I made it all the way to London without paying my upgrade fee :)

    Next was The Underground.
    Piece of piss. I followed signs, looked at a wall map, and made it to the next station without bother. Though it was very warm on the tube, the suspiciously new looking air-con in the corridors negated the heat nicely.

    One more train and I wandered along to the Greenwich comedy festival. I was three ish hours early for the first show I'd booked: BUG, hosted by Adam Buxton.
    But I was not alone, Twit Squadron was convening at this event, and I met up with several lovely people (whilst getting distracted by a bouncy squirrel). I sampled delicious fudge, super-rich brownies, gooey sweeties, and also gave out some badges I'd had made...

    At the appropriate time we hung around next one of the entrances into the Big Top, waiting for the official queue time, then, we decided to make a queue and to be at the start of it. This was by far one of the best decisions we could make as there was another entrance which later started letting people in SECONDS before us! In the pitch black of the tent (lighting fail there, tech guys) we jogged down treacherous flooring and made it to the right half of the front row. I was keen enough that I made it to practically the middle of the front row :>

    Adam chose us some lovely videos to watch, some based on comedy (for twas a comedy festival) and some were significantly odd, but all very watchable. This is the master at work, in a rare Standing-On-The-Stage moment. I had failed to realise just how normal-sized he is, although he is still taller than me. The hug he gave me was lovely, and just as nice as a bear-sized person's. *smirk*
    Yes, he gave me a hug, not for nothing though; myself and Layla, one of Twit Squadron (purveyor of fudge), (and some weird guy) hung around afterwards to give Adam presents. I continued my practice of behaving like a four year old for the day and went intensely shy as I handed over the card I made him (it had a badge each for Adam and Joe inside as well), rendering me almost incapable of speech. I think he took pity on me, hence the hug. (Layla also got a hug, but I was first!) Oh, and while we we talking to Adam, we were ignoring Bill Bailey wandering around on the stage, not five feet from us, such is the power of Buxton!

    (BUG doesn't just involve videos, there were fantabulous reading bits as well, you haven't looked at amusing YouTube comments until you've looked at them on a massive screen!)

    And then... everybody buggered off :-/
    I went to make sure I knew where Popcorn Comedy was going to be later, and on my way towards the exit I walked past Dan, from Dan and Dan Films. Who'd be appearing at Popcorn Comedy later. I did what anyone would do and said "Dan?"
    Then commenced a very surreal, from my position, conversation. I cringingly did the obvious thing and asked him where Dan was, *winces at memory* but he didn't seem to mind and was a delight! If you don't know who he is, this is his most famous work, and it was also what he performed live at Popcorn Comedy. Good, eh?
    Anyway, before I could make too much of an embarrassment of myself (I politely refused to put money into a charity thing whilst chatting to him *bites knuckle*) I scampered off to my hotel to drop of my bag etc.

    The lights didn't work.
    It was roasting.
    But the tele worked, and so did the taps, so I didn't really care.
    I mooched until it was time to go back, and while trying to get the annoying door to open I managed to find out how to get the lights to work. Stupid weird put-your-keycard-here hotels.

    I arrived outside the Popcorn tent, at approximately the same time as Dan. Not sure if it was "hip" to go say hello again, I hovered. And then a ticket-nazi came over and basically told me to piss off 'cause the currently performing act was overrunning. I then noticed that the small group of people gathered there consisted of the performers, not queuing citizens of normality. Ah, thought I, I'd best go over there then. And I went in search of sitting-down-ness. I totally remained within sight of the tent though, so I could see when the bitch stopped turning people away.

    Some time later...
    A queue! I sidled up to the small clump of people, checked they weren't talent and joined the ranks, quite close to the front of the quickly regimented line.

    Eventually we were let in. And I went to the front and sat down.
    I don't think I can summarise Popcorn very well...
    But I did get called fearless by David Schneider, purely for being there on my own and sitting at the front. (My seat had the best view!)
    Anyone who gets the chance to see him (David Schneider) live NEEDS to go! The dad-dancing made my face hurt, I was laughing that much :D
    Dan was also marvelous, and he got Dan to ask me where I was from for part of the act. As the Dan talking to me was on the screen I replied to the screen Dan, it was only polite! This may say something about how much I talk to my tele...

    But as all good things do, the night ended, and I went back to my hotel room.
    After throwing most of the pillows off the bed, then using some of them to block the light from under the door, and using the room service menu to hide the "helpful" clock display on the tele, I snuggled up in bed.
    I spectacularly failed to sleep for hours, but the familiar sounds of drunk people failing over from outside eventually lulled me to sleep...

    Only to wake at 7am.
    My train out of Greenwich was supposed to be at half nine, but I got impatient and bored.
    So I went on the underground in London before 9am on a Monday.
    Won't be doing THAT again!

    Blah blah, I went home, the end.

    Oh FINE, I accidental;ly paid £70 to upgrade to first class; got back to Lincoln and for the first time it felt like arriving Home (bloody should do after 3 years!); visited the jobcentre; made a "fearless" resolution to ask out that guy I keep meaning to ask out, sooner rather than later. GOD, you are soooo nosy!

    ~Finis~

    *for a given value of epic

  • Hello, Goodbye, and Welcome

    Every time I visit it seems like I'm saying "Oh hai! Where've you been" or something similar.
    Not anymore.
    I'm not going to make myself blog more, the thing which gives me the need to blog is serviced extremely well by Twitter, but, I am not going to feel guilty about my lack of bloggage, and will blog when I want thankyouverymuch!
    It's probably the vague feeling of obligation that makes so many people have breaks, so goodbye obligation!

    Things that have been happening:
    I had to have a follow-up smear, which turned out fine.
    My right eye requires a "to be on the safe side" hospital visit.
    My left boob has a cyst/lump thing which requires a follow-up grope.
    I start Uni very soon.
    I sign off jobseekers very soon.
    My mage tailor is level 71.
    Fable 3 is out soon.
    I'm going to be in London tomorrow for BUG. (And maybe some other stuff, but mainly BUG.)
    I still haven't asked out that guy.
    I'm onto season 6 of 24.
    I appear to have a thing for masculine shoulders, not too beefed up, but just right, Goldilockesk shoulders, tsk.
    I have a massive crush of Martin Wolfenden from The Gentleman's Review; a safe crush as he's quite, quite gay. He is the saviour of ducklingkind!
    Resident Evil Afterlife is a fantasic action film, devoid of all plot and scipt finesse, and is based purely on killing zombies in cool ways. Oh god the shower room scene... *eyes glaze*
    I heart The Divine Comedy.
    I carried some compost home from Homebase... last week (?) and my shoulder hasn't been the same since. Ibuprofen is helping though.
    My peas are nearly 6 inches high!
    I'm looking (far) forward to celebrating Winter-een-mas, especially as the most Holy week of Winter-een-mas holds my birthday within it's confines! #CAD

    [end message] *in the voice of the computer from Babylon 5*

  • Dink. DINK. Dink. DINK.

    I am filling time.
    It's still July, and I don't have anything to do until the end of September.
    I'm rationing the discs of 24, one a day, and I've skipped today's as it is a day full of radio/tele catch-up.
    Two months to go...
    And in those two months I get to go see BUG, and Adam Buxton, and Twit Squadron! :)
    All in one day :-/

    Must think of more things to do then.

  • What?

    Mmm? Do I know you? You do look familiar... OMFG Hi!

    Things and Stuff:
    I went to see some funny people on the day of my graduation, Phil Nichols and Gordon Southern. They were both WONDEROUS, in very different ways.

    I recieved £700 from working tax credit for last year.
    I recieved £more from the council in back-dated housing benefit.

    I have booked another comedy thing in October.
    I have booked a trip to London to see BUG in September. I shall be staying in a swish hotel. The trains may or may not be running on that day *perplexed*

    I have bought 24 on DVD. All of it. I'm in the middle of series 3 now...

    I am all go for Uni.

    I am awaiting several games, Fable 3 amongst them, which I didn't know was even in the pipe-line until I saw it's "pre-order me" thing in Game.

    I haven't really been checking in here as am addicted to Twitter. (@kendersrule, surprisingly.)

    I have been replaying Oblivion.

    Things I have been listening to:
    Collings and Herrin
    Collins and Herring
    Precious Little Podcast
    Dave Gorman
    Adam and Joe's Glasto thingamie (They're back in November!)
    Jarvis
    Laverne
    (basically: 6music, with a smidgeon of Absolute)

    Uuuuuuuuummm....
    Not much been going on really, including tidying, college finishing has buggered up my habits.
    I have had to report ANOTHER neighbour for loudliness.
    I'm immune to Sure.
    I apparaently REALLY like caesar salad dressing.
    It's so easy to find likeable/entertaining people on twitter that I'm following over 300.
    I have nothing to write about that can't be covered by 140 characters.

  • Final thought for the day

    Happy birthday Kibitz

  • viva la revolucion!

    6 Music is saved.
    FUCK YOU THOMMO!

  • I have...

    Gratuated college
    :)
    I've also been drinking for the last 7 1/2 hours, and have a comedy thing to go to shortly... :>

  • Budget

    So. VAT is set to rise to 20% next January.
    In that case I expect VAT to only be on luxuary items, not, oh I don't know, bread and milk..?

    Fucking cunts.
    Corperate tax is going down FFS!
    What exactly do the Lib Dems think they're doing?!

    *significantly annoyed*

  • HALP!

    I have a microsoft product identifier.
    Instead of a product key on it, it has a tracking ID.
    WTF DO I DO WITH THIS?!

    PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

  • Satisfaction

    I have a strange sense of achievement today.
    Yesterday saw actual things getting done, but today I haven't really done much, and feel like I've done loads.
    All I did today was put away some paperwork, and do a paragraph of my final English essay.
    But now my assignment is at my finger tips, with six different books in reach to play with, and my head in the right place for writing.

    :)

    now, I think I'll make a start on my final study skills assignment...

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