CAUTION! Exhausted blogger

I'm feeling monumentally tired. It's that kind of tired where you stop caring about what's going on around you because you've totally entered zombie zone and flicked yourself to auto-pilot.

I knew I'd reached this point after walking back from London Bridge to drop The Boy off to get his train and as I strolled home in the rain I didn't care about getting wet, which I usually would; I didn't care that my favourite pair of baggy jeans were dragging on the floor and rather than fussily roll them up so they don't get even more tattered at the bottoms, I let the rain soak into them and watched as the water line steadily rose up my leg. Looking like I'm on a come down, I ambled home at a steady pace, eyes glazed with exhaustion and lips cracked from dehydration.

What's weird is that I was thinking all the way home how to open this blog and I had it pretty much word perfect, but now I'm here typing it all down it didn't come out sounding how I wanted it to at all. It's not quite as concise and snappy as I expected it to be. Tired mind 1. Rose's creative writing skills nil. I can only apologise, dear reader, for how the rest of this post may evolve or indeed digress...

On my walk home in the rain, as well as enjoying the pitter patter of the drops on my very pretty rose umbrella (which stands out and shits on the normal dull black or blue umbrellas most conservative city dwellers own) I was trying to decide just how I managed to get to such an exhausted state and here's what I've managed to come up with:

1. It's the last week of term at school before the summer holidays. Everyone at work is exhausted, students and teachers alike and each day passes as a countdown to when we don't have to get up at 6am every morning. Honestly, it's been pretty tough to stay motivated when the end is so freakin' close!
2. I applied for a job last week for an editorial assistant position at a gardening magazine. Yes, you did read that right, a gardening magazine. Quite a jump from writing about sex and relationships I know and as much as I'd like to I don't think I could away with a subtle 'Top Tips For Frisky Al-Fresco Fun', or even a real lifer about nude gardening. As much as I'd want to go out and find an all naturist allotment group in the back-end of Britain somewhere, I just don't think it's that kind of publication. Anyway, that's by-the-by, how this has contributed to my exhaustion is the reams of written tests they sent me to complete in four days. Although it was good fun and something to really get my teeth into, it meant that all last week I was finishing work, cycling home and then sitting in front of my computer for another three hours or so to get it finished. Was I brain dead by the end of it? Shit yeah I was, but I've got an interview out of it and...
3. ...that didn't stop me going out for The Boy's birthday last week. Unfortunately I got hijacked by his housemates who coerced me into missing my train home and plying me with more red wine than is legally allowed on a school night. Ouch. Celebrations then continued into Friday with a bottle of very nice champers and then a night out in Brixton on Saturday with friends, then all topped up with a splash of Sunday cocktail drinking.
4. The social life continued to dominate last night as I met The Boy's cousin and his missus who are over from Australia. Awesome couple, really easy to get along with, and like a drink. The most important thing I learnt last night was an Australian's ability to say the word "cunt" without sounding offensive. It was only a little way into the conversation that I realised the C-bomb was being dropped every fourth word or so and I wasn't even alarmed. Amazing! The Cousin made it sound like any other swear word that could have been on a par with "shit" or "crap" and they're the mildest. After a drink I felt confident enough that maybe I could join in, but as I expected the C-word sounds way too harsh when spat out in an English accent and I actually felt myself shudder when I said it. Doesn't suit me at all, so I reverted to calling everyone a "twat" instead. As we went for Mexican it was only appropriate that we had tequila...for a starter and desert. Didn't make getting up this morning too easy though.

They're pretty much all the big reasons (or excuses, take your pick on the turn of phrase) I can think of for feeling shattered. General department chaos at work has also contributed, but it would be unprofessional to go into that. Oh and the editorial assistant job I mentioned before is based in Colchester, so I've been constantly chewing over the pros and cons of upping stix and moving there for this job. Thinking about big life decisions like that doesn't half tire out your mind.

Finally though, I can see a break in the mayhem as I'm heading back to Leicester for some chill-out time to celebrate my Dad's birthday (shit need to get pressie sorted), catch up with friends and God-sons, and what I'm most looking forward to is seeing my brother. He's finally back from Maple Leaf Land and I've not seen him since last October, so having as he calls it "a good yarn" over a pint or five will be sweet as.

Also can't wait to take wandering walks in the rain back there, a bit like I have tonight, only hopefully I'll be more alert as I stroll through the fields breathing in fresh air rather than city fumes. Perhaps my topics of conversation will become a little more imaginative and exciting as I let my mind unwind and relax rather than have it move at a hundred miles an hour as I logistically think about life, where I need to be, who I need to be seeing and all that.

Right, sports day to tackle tomorrow. If everyone could keep their fingers crossed for no rain before 1pm it would be much appreciated.

Night!
RoseC -x- 

Little Shops Of Horror!

*Sigh*...I'm totally annoyed right now. I'm sorry that I've not posted for a little while and now the first time I come back it's to have a moan, but I feel I can be excused as I explained in my last post that things are a little hectic round here right now.

Anyway, that's not why I'm annoyed. I'm annoyed because today I realised that I don't like shopping. After a trip yesterday to Camden, and today to Oxford Street and not finding a single item of clothing that I want to buy has made me feel disillusioned and disappointed and hate the world of fashion right now. It also means I'm totally going against every female fibre in my body that should love shopping. Now the thought that I'm disgracing female kind is weighing on my shoulders. Argh.

It's totally not all my fault though that I can't get my head around and embrace the (hideous) new fashion of high-waisted, floral flared trousers and now I feel angry at the high-street for not considering everyones different styles. What kicked it all off was my simple desire to get a new pair of skate shoes that fit me properly. Last year I snapped up a nifty pair of DCs, but didn't try them on properly and have since found they're bit too small and make my feet hurt. Lame. So now I need another pair to try an replace my beloved pair of Etnies which I have worn out to the point that there are holes in the bottom and the back. Not ideal to wear when raining.

So, used to having endless displays of skate shoes at my disposal I thought it wouldn't be a problem to pick up a new pair. Little did I know that that the well stocked skate shop in Covent Garden had closed down, that Schuh have significantly decreased there ladies skate shoe stock and even Camden seem to be cleaning up there act of possibly knocked off DCs, that I now find my options have diminished. After three different trips to look specifically for a pair of shoes to replace the Etnies I have admitted defeat and started to accept that I am out of fashion. Skate fashion for ladies is clearly so passe, but you've got more chance of finding rocking horse shit than spotting me in high-waisted floral trousers or wedges decorated with the feathers of dead birds.

*Sigh*

There is the potential that Australia might have what I need, but I can't believe I've gotta fly to the other side of the world just to satisfy my personal style.

Fashion is lame.

Moan over, goodnight!

RoseC -x-  

A quick note from the author

Right, I'm going to have to do this quickly as I'm at work and have to actually do school related stuff very soon. I've been in a really bad mood this week and had a million and one things to sort out and do. Most of this revolves around magazine work because I figured out the other day that I need to do all my features up to the October issue before I go to Australia on August 11th. That's right ladies and gents, you read that right, my little jaunt to Aussie Land is back on thanks to some very generous parents on both sides of the planet! So it seems I will get to see my platypus after all. Hurrah!

As I said though, it means I have a million and one things to do before then and there's not a lot of time to do it in, but I'm one of those people that can work well under pressure. However, I guess it means that keeping you updated on my personal triumphs, pet hates and amazing world observations may have to take a back seat, or be presented to you in quick note form like this. It's definitely going to be a case of quantity over quality, but sometimes a lot of something can be good...like chocolate, or orgasms, but not coffee. A lot of coffee just leaves you feeling like a jittering idiot.

One last note before I sign off though and put my teaching assistant hat on for the day: I'd like it to be known that on Friday 24th June 2011, I conquered The Bastard Hill on my cycle into work. It was tough and I was hurting at the top of it, but I did it all the way up without stopping. I'm pretty sure my legs won't thank me for it tomorrow but reaching a goal at 7:30am on a Friday morning ain't bad going.

Till next time, have a fab weekend people!

RoseC -x-

Singing in the rain

I sang my way home this evening. I don't often sing or hum out loud to myself (at least not that I notice), but on my way home from dinner with friends in London Bridge I found myself merrily walking down the street singing, but the songs that were popping into my head weren't ones I'd heard on the radio this morning, they were songs that I'd not heard or thought about for a very long time so I have know idea how or where I dug them out from in my memory.

It started off with a bit of metal in the form of Marilyn Manson's, The Nobodys and I've since put the Holywood album on for a spin this evening, which hasn't happened in a very long time. I should explain that I used to be a goth and if I had a photo to show you how funny I looked I would happily post it, but sadly they were all ritually burnt as soon as I grew out of it.

The tunes soon developed into Nirvana, Lithium - which I sang in it's entirety, out loud, getting quite enthusiastic on the "Yeahhh, Yeahhh, Yeahhh" bits - and then I somehow jumped into a full on 90s Brit Pop humming revival with Oasis, Talk Tonight and Half the World Away, before moving swiftly onto the Manic's and a Stereophonics medley of Mr Writer and Maybe Tomorrow because I couldn't remember all the lyrics to either of those songs so sort of just sang a bit of both.

I forgot how much I love the latter 'Phonics song purely because of the line "I've been the upper side of down, been the inside of out". Just think it's a really beautifully constructed lyric. I often pick my favourite songs purely because of one single line, for example Queens of the Stone Age's, Into the Fade, I love the line, "With nowhere to fall, Into the arms of someone". I just like how those particular lyrics stick.

Anyway, I digress. My musical mind went of on a tangent too and I ended up singing TLC No Scrubs. Still 90's, but not exactly the theme I was sticking to. I guess I can safely say my taste in music is eclectic! There's a reason though why my mind would wander to this song; when I was out on my second ever ski trip in Trois Vallees, French Alps, in year 9, another skiier crossed my path, sent me flying into the air and I sprained my knee. I had to be carried down in a blood wagon (massive fun) but then was taken to the local doctors, spoke hardly any French and was left lying in a room unable to move for over an hour in a foreign country not knowing what the fuck was going on. At 13 I was a bit, not scared, maybe more intimidated and worried?

Long and short of it was I sang TLC No Scrubs out loud, on repeat to calm myself down until one of my school teachers arrived. That song stuck maybe because it was in the charts at the time, but mostly because we were learning a dance routine to it at my local drama group so I'd heard it so many times I had it down word perfect.

My memory failed me somewhat today though and I could only remember the first verse and chorus. Clearly I'm getting rusty.

I love it though when songs you've not heard in years suddenly pop into your head again without rhyme or reason and the memories they jog, or not and you just have the satisfaction of going, "shit yeah that's an awesome tune and it's time to revive!" So on that note, here's a bit of 'Phonics Maybe Tomorrow (thought I'd spare you from Marilyn Manson this time!).

http://youtu.be/CaT86mk9gj8

Through the plug hole

There's the smell of heavy rain in the air. I love that smell; it's a real stuffy smell where every natural scent seems to linger, whether it's fresh grass, the flowers, or the smell of the fountain as the wind blows the spray back. Granted it's not the easiest smell to describe because its the mingling of all these scents that make that wet, lovely, spring smell that rain is on the way and that everything will smell fresh again rather than hanging heavy in the air. That make sense?

Have to admit, it made my cycle home from work very pleasurable, but as I can smell rain it inevitably means that the wet stuff is on its way...apparently tomorrow which means I probably won't be riding in to work in the morning. Boo and hiss.

In other news, I'm currently working on my next lot of beauty articles for the magazine I'm freelancing for each month. I can reveal that it's called Deluxo and the website is now up and running, which you can see here  http://www.dlxo.co.uk/ Yes, I'm afraid I'm shamelessly self-plugging in this blog, but that's because I'm excited to see the first issue. It'll be the first features I've had in print since Scarlet closed and even though I've written stuff since that in Harlot, it was never really the same having it online as it is in print.

I'm a complete traditionalist when it comes to magazines and wanting to pick up a mag from the news agents and physically flick through it. I guess that's why a lot of the journalist jobs I've since applied for have been for print magazines rather than online ventures. Part of me knows the reality though that everything is shifting online, obviously its a natural technological progression that the media has to keep up with and in many ways its fantastic for young/new freelance journalists like me because the scope, number and genre variety of online magazines is now so much wider that there are more opportunities for us to write and get more experience.

I'll never admit it more than this once, but I always thought that maybe I had missed a trick with Harlot magazine and not pushing it further or making more of it. It could have been great, it could have been the best, sexiest women's online magazine out there, but it just didn't have the backing, support or the right people working on it. For me it was tough because I was still learning on the job, I'd only been working as a journalist for a year and then was thrown into doing this on my own editorially. It was mad, but hindsight makes me think that it could have been fabulous and I wonder if I really missed an opportunity there?

*Sigh* Enough dwelling on that topic! The main thing is that I'm proper excited about seeing something I've 'penned' in print again. Happy days...and check out the site if you get time, oh and get on the Deluxo facebook page too.

END PLUG

RoseC -x-  

The birthday that broke me

Last night I went to my mate's 30th Birthday Party. As a result today has been a bit of a struggle and being conscious is a real effort right now. Once again I over did it and had too much to drink last night and now I feel like I want to curl up into a little ball, rock myself to sleep and concentrate really hard on not being sick everywhere.

It all started to go down hill when we began knocking back the Jager Bombs while still sober. Everyone knows that Jager Bombs should only be consumed after you've already had a few, when sense and logic has gone out of the window which makes the idea of Jager Bombs acceptable. They're not designed to be consumed right at the beginning of the night when you know you've got a five hour drinking session ahead of you. Having said that it certainly warmed me up nicely and helped the two and a half bottles of red plonk and four tequila shots that followed go down quite easily.

So, it doesn't take a genius to work out that I was smashed. Confirmation that I was totally shitted came when I started talking to The Boy about getting married. Now, I don't know why I do it, but it seems that whenever I'm drunk with my boyfriend my thoughts always turn to marriage and I foolishly always talk at him about it and where we should get hitched and when. The first few occasions I did this I massively got the fear and felt like a complete plank. Fortunately The Boy doesn't freak out (anymore) at the topic and instead uses it as an indicator that it's probably time for me to go home. Well that and my inability to stand still and instead take up a swaying motion. Really though, if he feeds me tequila then he's gonna have to suffer the consequences.

I'm now sitting on my bed feeling completely brain dead and tired and ready to go to bed and ignore the fact that it's Monday tomorrow. Ideally I was going to have a nice quiet evening just sitting and convincing myself that I'm not going to be sick or die, but instead I've spent most of the evening chasing a mouse around my room.

Unfortunately my housemate discovered that there's a mouse in the house, then I discovered that it had scampered into my room. I'm not scared of mice and don't have much of a problem with them, but why oh why did it have to pick today to come into my room? Basically with me being in the state that I am the mouse easily out witted me and even though I cleared my room out I still wasn't able to catch the bugger. I even tried to reason with the little mouse, but he didn't seem to care and I'm assuming he's scurried off to some corner of my room that means I can't catch him. I've pretty much stopped caring anyway, the mouse can do whatever the fuck it likes today as I don't have the energy to deal with it. Also isn't it the law that if you catch a mouse you're not allowed to release it? You have to kill it because they're pests. I can safely say that I'm not in a mouse killing mood right now and am pretty sure that if I had to execute the little thing today it would definitely make me vom.

Urgh, right, now I've had a self-pitying moan about feeling so rubbish I think I'm gonna sign off and quietly sit for a bit and hope that no one wants to talk to me right now as conversing I think will hurt my brain. Hopefully this blog isn't as painful to read as it has been to write.

Goodbye -x- 

 

What I learnt today

Working in a school means that occasionally I learn a few things too - both academically and about myself -  and today I thought I'd share with you a few things that I have learnt in the last eight or so hours. The lessons will be presented in chronological order of when I learnt them...

7:35 am: I can get a little bit further up the massive hill
As mentioned in a previous post I now cycle to and from work. This is to try and save money and to get fitter. On my journey into school I am faced with a really, really big hill. Usually I get off my bike at the bottom and walk all the way up. Today however, I pushed myself that little bit further a got a quarter of the way up before my lags gave in (poor legs). A quarter may not sound far, but trust me when I say it's a BIG hill. So lesson one of the day is that I can do it and one day I will reach the top of that bastard hill on my bike and it shall mock me no more!!

10:50 am: That I'm 'good' at my job
It was officially confirmed today that I am actually 'good' at my job. This was decided by the school's management and upper management (it's a large hierarchy at this school) who came to observe me in lessons last term. Hearing this gave me a warm glowing feeling that I've not felt from a job in a long time because, I thought, you had more chance of finding rocking horse shit than getting a pat on the back from my old employers.

Let me now put this 'good' into context for you non-teacher people: good is the second highest ranking there is after 'outstanding', then there's satisfactory and finally inadequate. I won't lie, I can't admit that I wasn't a bit disappointed that I wasn't 'outstanding', but that's only because I'm an over-confident, cocky fucker when really I should come to realise that I am, have been and probably always will be 'the nearly there girl'. By this I mean it doesn't matter if I work my tits off, I never seem to quite get the highest mark or grade or promotion. It's been like that ever since I did my GCSE's and I only got an A in English when I should have got an A*. When doing my degree I got a 2:1, but I easily worked as hard as someone who managed to get a  first. (NB: I know this sounds quite selfish and up my own arse, because they're still very high grades and awesome, but what I'm trying to say is I set myself high standards, so I'm disappointed when I don't reach them.) In the employment arena I'm the one that gets called back for a second or third interview, but still never quite gets the job, which happened to me 3 or 4 times before I landed my teaching assistant job.

Now, now dear reader I'm not looking for sympathy, I've come to accept that's just how natures made me, there's nothing you or I can do about it, so I'll forever be the 'nearly there girl.' It's all cool, and so my second lesson of the day was learning that I am just 'good' and I'll settle for that.

11:10 am: I'm not bad at playing samba!
In terms of lessons I really like Thursdays, in particular the year 7 music lesson I get to support in. I only get to do it once a week and the kids I'm in with are really lovely. What's more awesome at the moment though is that the kids are doing samba at the moment, and when I say they're playing samba I'm not exaggerating. The teacher has literally transformed them into a proper samba band. With a few more weeks practise I reckon they could easily give some semi-pro bands a run for their money. We have whistles, dancing, huge fucking drums, the lot. It's tops and I get to join in! Third lesson - my rhythm isn't as bad as I thought it was.

12:10 pm: I can't jump very high
I've never claimed to be particularly athletic; when I was at school I didn't do particularly well and the times that I did it was by complete fluke. Like I said, nearly there. So today I was pressured by students and fellow TA's, into giving the high jump a go. I managed 1m, but unfortunately got knocked out of the competition at 1m 10cm. There we have it, that is the highest I can jump. Fact.

I feel this has been quite a self reflecting blog post which has been quite cathartic as I've been on a bit of a downer lately. That's all I've got to say really, so I guess the final lesson learnt today is...

7:14 pm: Bad blog endings
Think of better, more witty and exciting ways to end my blog posts in future.

RoseC -x-