June 18, 2008
I’m not sure if it’s for emphasis or if it means something specific. What you might call a headscratcher.
Zomg! No post yesterday due to unprecidented busyness. A cackload of work made its way to my inbox and I barely had time to compose a thought of my own, so busy was I expressing the will of others. It saddens me because I had promised to read something for a dear friend, which I now aim to finish this afternoon.
Zomg! Housefolk did not pass the army fitness test as he injured himself half way through. They have invited him back to try again later. This does mean he no longer has anywhere to go – an important factor in the housing debate. He has made many suggestions of friends and family who may be able to put him up and get him jobs. This is his pattern, to not do anything himself but depend on the kindness of others. I think he would be ideally suited to a corporate environment but after living in London for a year he didn’t get anywhere near an office job. Where is his motivation? His desire for personal improvement?
Zomg! My partner got his results yesterday and is now the proud achiever of a first class degree. He now has Bsc hons after his name. I am very proud. Tomorrow he will get his mark for his dissertation which I am very interested in as I read all sixty pages of it to check spellings etc. Nothing quite like having a professional spellchecker on hand. He is pleased and it has given him the confidence to apply for better jobs. I hope he gets a job soon – we will feel tremendously rich with two incomes and it will help when house hunting.
June 16, 2008
Is what I have just finished having. I am quite sad it’s over, it was going well for a while there and the discovery of elderflower liqueur was a great one. The other great discovery was that there is a reason for the new series of Gladiators: it makes a fantastic drinking game. The rules were to drink when someone strikes a pose, says something cheesy or fails utterly. It was phenomenal.
I have not seen the Hulk movie that came out a few years back because I was busy inhaling paint thinner but did tag along with the gang to see this new one. I think you would get a similar experience if you went to see a cage fight while listening to a premium rate chat line. The movie is literally all fight/chase/fight scenes interspersed with moments of breathy dialoge from Liv Tyler who sounds like she’s been bricked in the face. As much as she sounded like a retard it also bugged me that soldiers were constantly moving her round calling her ‘miss’ when as daughter of the general they would all have known that her name was DR Ross. Nothing like respect in the army…
After the weekend’s overly full house (in which I was seventh in line for the throne, godsdamnit) we are now down to a more reasonable number, in exchange for a guest we have lost one of the housefolks who has run away to join the army. Whether he’ll come back in one piece or not is unknown – I’m not sure if he is adequately prepared for the rigours of the marines’ fitness test so I hope he doesn’t die. Before he left he played me a recording of a poem called ‘You can’t’ by someone who I think spells her name Salena Duggens. It’s a fantastic poem expressing distain for the widespread apathy infecting the nation. I loved it muchly but I don’t know where it came from and my very basic websearches have yielded nothing.
I am feeling poor at the moment. I must do things to improve my situation – all I’ve managed in the last year is to take about 700 off my overdraft which isn’t very much and it is almost the birthingsday of significant other and in order to make a fitting tribute I may have to dent that again. I hate to have to be concerned with money. The lowest point of my poverty when I was a student without loan money and hadn’t landed a summer job yet (which had to start in april I was that poor) was when I realised I had almost worn through the ass of my trousers and it was really cold (too cold for skirts, of which I had two) but couldn’t afford to buy new trousers, even primark trousers, because I had only just enough money for modest food. It sounds daft, oh no, no trousers for me today, I was hardly homeless or without support if I’d needed it, but the first time you look at your budget and think wow, I do kinda need this but if I got it I can’t have food, it really freaks you out and gives you a little taste of what it’s like to really be poor. Now I know I spend a little too much on what I like, particularly in the supermarket, because I hated the feeling of restriction. I could be creating savings but instead I am eating my money as a reassurance that I can afford that luxury. It’s probably time I got over that feeling, at least to make my use of food more efficient.
June 13, 2008
The thing I like about Zelda Fitzgerald is that she is totally jaded but, unlike her husband, she isn’t bitter. She’s like the decaffeinated version, and as a big advocate of decaff coffee that is in no way an insult. In Scott’s writing you can feel the niggling tension headache of withdrawal (from all kinds of substances I don’t doubt) the lack of appetite from dry nausea and an undercurrent of misanthropy that has yet to find a target worthy of trying to muster up some bile. Zelda, on the other hand, loves humanity; she loves the naivity of youth with all its melodrama and foibles and the jadedness of adulthood where there is no point in making a fuss about anything for what good would it do? You might as well make the best of the situation, and it’s not even such a bad situation when you remember you’re still young, insanely rich and a member of American high society. Where Scott saw the poiniency of the lifestyle Zelda laughed at how ridiculous it was – and I imagine that this irritated Scott but I love her for it.
June 12, 2008
To my mind, and in my experience, those that loudly proclaim themselves to be on the right-wing of the political spectrum are not the nicest of people. As I understand it being right-wing is all about ‘looking out for number one’ and so earning lots of money for yourself and stepping on people’s heads to gain this fiscal happiness. In order to gain all you can you may abuse your societal privilege, for example if you were born a white man you may openly proclaim that chicks are no good in the board room but they sure do look nice when cooking me a steak – not those black chicks though, don’t wanna eat friend chicken every night. You don’t have to be as extremely foul and blatant as that but casual insult dropping to those regarded as ‘beneath’ you seems to be a typical trait of right-wingers. They may object and tell you they can’t possibly be racist because they have a #insert minority here# friend -right after challenging you to a game of ‘spot the white face’ which obviously can’t possibly be racist because white is the race you’re focusing on and blah blah blah.
Right-wingers also, in my observation, have a fearful loathing of the poor. I’m guessing this is either because poor people remind them how much money they are selfishly hoarding, or because they think the poor people are stealing all their taxes. I do think it funny the amount of rage right-wing media spews on people supposedly stealing taxes. Even if we didn’t have state-run welfare programmes there would still be tax to pay; that stuff is barely a drop in the ocean.
Some right-wingers have the most problem with middle-class liberals. They look at them, trying to think of a conceivable reason why this person who should, in their minds, be just like them but chooses not to be. I have seen this cause arguments and even fights. You have the capacity to gain things for yourself and yet you choose not to? What madness! What stupidity! they must think. Yet I think the opposite: you have the opportunity and financial ability to choose your actions, so why don’t you choose the actions that make the world a little bit better? Like walking to the shop. Or reusing a bag. Or not buying and buying and buying cheap things so that you can have a lot of things and still have a lot of cash. Or choosing to buy a small car instead of a large car. Or not being rude to waiters because you see them as poor servants to your greatness. Or not being rude to people you perceive as foreign because you assume they are here illegally and stealing your taxes when in fact you have no idea what their personal circumstances are. Or thinking about things for a change.
I can’t honestly say why right-wing people have more of a tendency to do at least some of the things I’ve listed above. It may seem harsh to judge but I think about things and I try not to make negative impacts on the lives of others so I don’t understand why some people think it is acceptable to do so.
June 11, 2008
It’s easy and a very dirty habit. I have not had the courage to tell Housefolk Epsilon that I don’t want to live with him any more. I hate creating tension. In fact I hate interacting with HE in any way, which is kind of why I don’t want to live with him. Last night, when Relocation Revisitation was on he mentioned that he’s seen a great house in this out of town suburb he is desperate to move to. I don’t believe the house is for real because it sounds way too cheap for the area. I also refuse to move to that suburb because it is really far away from the city centre (sort of its own town) and all I know about it is that it’s extremely middle class so probably has terrible transport links and everything will be over-priced. It also sickens me because HE once described it as a ‘bastion of whiteness’ whereas I would prefer to pay a little less and not give a crap about the colour of my neighbours.
I hate myself for not calling him on his racism. It is awful, and I do all I can to avoid being anywhere near him in public places but I’m too much of a pussy to call him on it. I’m a strange one in that I tend to only bring smackdowns on my friends, such as when one of the guys said something about not needing ‘gay hypnotism tactics’ and I told him about my vision of the gay tactics lab team working away on their latest hypnotism techniques. In my experience of gay people there aren’t many secret groups like this. The word just jars in my head when people use it in the wrong context like that so I often tell them in the hope that they’ll think about the words they use (or just annoy them into not doing it anymore).
Still, that’s not a very good comparison because the guy who says ‘gay’ is not a homophobe he just has slack language use. Housefolk Epsilon is a deliberate racist. I don’t know why either. I could be he grew up in an incredibly white area. Or that he had prejudiced parents. Or that a person of an ethnic minority did something that hurt him once. Or that he has an inferiority complex so feels the need to class vast sections of society beneath himself, including women, people of colour and queers. Or he’s a massive dumbfuck. Or all of the above.
I used to go out with a guy who gradually revealed himself to be racist. He was also a pig to me and cheated on me several times, so let’s call him an all round bad person. One thing that really gets to me still is that when I phoned him after being mugged in the street and physically attacked the first thing he asked me was ‘was he black?’ Not was I ok or had I called the police yet or anything like that – he was just that keen to get another little anecdote for his arsenal of hate. I wish I had put the phone down on him then and called it quits, I could have saved myself a year of degredation and humiliation, not to mention all the self-loathing afterwards when I realised what a shit he was and what an idiot I must have looked for so long.
Why are so many young people in the UK racist? I don’t understand what excuse they have…
June 10, 2008
I have a small amount of dread that I am trying to contain for the sake of beloved who is straining at the seams and could probably use support more than a heap more worry. Soon we will have to move house.
Moving house in the logistical sense is not too bad as we won’t be going far and I have already enlisted the help of a man with a van. Ditching our deadweight housefolks will be emotionally straining (Housefolk Femme has already announced she is leaving). Moving in together as a couple will be nerve-wracking although after two years together sharing a room in the group house I think it will be ok. My partner believes it will leave him friendless but I think the opposite – it will encourage him to see more people more often than just relying on the people he lives with for entertainment and to go places with. I know that he knows people in the area, admittedly not as many as before, but he doesn’t get in contact with them. He’s as bad as I am! I hope it gives me a kick in the arse to do more things for myself too, both in meeting people to hang out with and in working on my personal projects. *sidenote: I am working on the design of my third cross stitch*
Choosing a house to live in will be difficult. It’s not something either of us have done for several years. It will also be the first time we’ve had a real grown up rental and not a student rental, which isn’t that weird because there are people with mortgages at our age but does mean we’ll have to get references, proof of employment and possibly credit checks. We will also have to find a house accepting of moggits. I have been looking on house ads and many of them say ‘no pets’. Some of them say ‘furniture optional’ which I think will be best: if it’s not their furniture they shouldn’t mind if the cat stratches it. We shall see how easy this is when we try to estate agents.
This is all of course in addition to the housing crisis that is currently afflicting the property market. Now I can have my very own little housing crisis.
#sad# stress and effort. I wish I could afford to buy but I have very little savings and a small pay packet (for low stress, good experience work which I like). Significant other doesn’t have a job at all which makes it worse, for I may have to do the whole thing in my name.
On the plus side, with the £4 we will have left over at the end of this we will be able to buy our very own furniture! #oh gods#
June 9, 2008
It is a commonly held superstition that all the little things you learn and save will one day be useful in some way. I was overwhelmed by this feeling earlier when in reading I came across the word ‘prestidigitator’ and remembered my dad teaching it to me 15 years ago and it occured to me that if he hadn’t I wouldn’t have known what it meant. It also took 15 years for a single instance of the word to crop up before my avidly book loving self, but when it did it was so worth it.
The cat recovered, incidentally.
Harold and Kumar was a great success, it was great to see a buddy movie that is both funny and features intelligent, articulate characters without them being geeks.