I have hunger

July 9, 2008

Ich habe hunger. Yes I do, burning a hole in my belly and my head. After last week’s no snacking at work between meals success I am now struggling as I enter the huge appetite phase of my hormone cycle. It feels weak to admit that my hormones have influence over me but their impact is impossible to ignore. Last night I ate a 150g bag of kettle chips after dinner. At the time I blamed the goodness of sweet vinegar.

I don’t usually read the Metro on the bus/train but I may start. In the last few weeks two headlines have grabbed my attention, one about unreported harassment of LGBT people and today’s follow-up on the guy the police mistakenly threw to the ground and pointed a gun at. I can’t say if they were doing this to show that young black men can be middle-class Oxford graduates or to show that racial profiling is ineffectual and wrong. I’ll keep my eye out for future headlines.

In more personal news the downturn of the economy has made it unfeasible for our landlord to sell our home so we don’t have to leave just yet. It will be a lot easier to house hunt when my dear one has a job. I still don’t want to stay in our current house for too long though, as certain factors make it an uncomfortable living space. My reaction to Housefolk Epsilon is getting worse. I think I am developing pronounced retard intolerance, like lactose intolerance, which makes anything he says hard for me to digest. When you are struggling to even make small talk with a person it’s easier to just steer clear. I usually only see him now when I’m cooking and am trapped in the room with his fearsome odour. BO that can overpower the smell of freshly chopped onion is extreme.

I don’t like feeling this way about a person. For predominently selfish reasons. Any time I have tried to reconsider he does something that makes me feel my dislike is justified. Any time he states the obvious about a film or tv show we are watching I cringe. Any time I try to make an excuse for him like only child syndrome or poor parenting I remember that he is an adult man and has control over himself. Any time he says anything right wing I want to simulatenously laugh and vomit about the stupidity and falseness of what he has said. I cannot live with this person any more. If I end up staying in my current house a while longer I will be counting the days until I can say goodbye to him forever.


Shallow, moi?

June 30, 2008

What’s that word, the one you would use to describe the feeling of reassurance you get from seeing others not do too well at things? It’s not shallow, it’s not really cruel as you don’t wish it on the other person nor are you glad that it’s happening to them – just glad it’s not happening to you. If only there was a thesaurus of vagueness I could use to look it up.

At present I am reassured that although I don’t think I’m doing very well with my money I am at least ticking over and standing still, unlike certain people of my acquaintance. It is always unfortunate when a rent cheque bounces but in this case the person will be able to cover it with a little rejigging of accounts. The idea of not having my rent makes me very sad in a nauseous way, and I hope it does not become a concern in the future when budgeting for a higher rent in the new house may be tricky.

What I find highly irritating in terms of financial failures is Housefolk Epsilon’s failure to pay the bills. All the other housefolks gave him the money a month ago, when the bill came, and now we are getting red letters. He said he was waiting until he got paid, but I think he already has been. And now he’s gone home – presumably to beg the money from his mum. Because he spent his on more computers. I kind of hope we get cut off – even though it will cause huge disruptions and loss to all of us – so I can justify my anger towards him for this, for putting us all at risk and impacting all our credit histories and being so drastically irresponsible. I even wonder if he spent our bill money, if maybe that is the reason he needs to beg a buy out.


Self-loathing

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…


Unendorsements

June 2, 2008

Being new to the so called Blogoshere I had no idea how common circle-jerking was and how incredibly obvious my previous comment about it is. This embarrasses me. How can I complain about other people reveling in the delight of their own retardation when I fall prey to it myself? I suppose at the very least I can now see what I have done and freely admit it.

In other news: worst shopping experience of my life including an hour spent in the TB hotbox known as Housefolk Epsilon’s car. My glands were actually swollen for the rest of the day after that – if I wasn’t such an avid fan of fruit and veg I am certain I would have succumbed to a terrible disease. We were on this pointless car journey to what had been heralded as the most amazing hypermarket this side of Lebanon but actually turned out to be someone else’s local Tesco. The ceiling was low, the isles cramped together and clogged with obese children. The selection was not good, turned out more expensive than our usual shop despite not getting everything we wanted and we were all longing for death.The signs stuck on the shelves cheekily saying “cheaper than #insert name of rival supermarket#” just served to remind me of all the places I could be that wasn’t there. Plus self-promotion by denigrating others really pisses me off because it makes the offender look petty, callous and lacking in good qualities to brag about. Which they are, because they’re Tesco. Never, ever, ever go to Tesco.

Also never, ever, ever watch American Pie 6: Beta House. Unless you promise to turn off the sound and use it as softporn.