Melbourne

2 Jul

This is my first post in a while so I guess an update is needed.

I finished at work on the 19th of June 2009, my last day there in my current job. The weekend was spent with my girlfriend, Flo. I love her so much right now. My landlord came to do an inspection on my Flat 22nd June, told me my rent hadn’t been paid in 2 months and wanted a cheque from me before she left. I argued that if this was the case I should have been told long beforehand surely? Apparently her accountant had not realised. Well, I don’t have a cheque book, I don’t appreciate you asking me to then draw out cash and finally to borrow from a friend. No this will never happen. Especially considering that you have failed to have my gas safety checked in months. Don’t try to bullshit and harrangue me with the fact that the flat belongs to a charity. You WORK for the charity, you get paid wages, so do your bosses, your cleaners, your new offices. Everything. I understand how charities work and how big the operations really are, how much of the money raised by those gullible enough to give really goes to those it is designed to help. Don’t come preaching in my home!!!

Long story short, she’s kept my deposit and expects me to pay the balance at the end of this month. Last call, I asked her to confirm this to me in writing and have yet to recieve any response.

I left my Flat on the day of my flight, the place was finally empty, I’d sold my last fridge via Gumtree, at the same cost that I had brought it for and I guess it was time to start another adventure and to see a little of the world once more. To challenge myself and to grow.

It’s a little upsetting, giving something up that you have worked so hard for, packing a few bags and leaving the rest behind. Realising that finally, you have nothing left. Only the bags on your back and the memories in your heart. I shut the door, gave the keys to the shop below, walked away. I didnt look back, I got myself a coffee and a sandwhich in my favourite cafe. Saying a silent goodbye and hoping to once more be in a position to live in a place I am happy and love. I cried silent tears as I waited for the bus and sat bleary eyed as I travelled a short distance to say farwell to a good friend and then walked further to my parents house where I sat out the rest of the day and then onto the airport. Bags checked in, security – Finally – passed. Then the waiting game. Facebook, a real book, a sandwhich and the plane was ready to board.

I don’t know if I realised the significance of those actions until a while after I was on the plane. My stomach dropped as we lifted of, inside I think its true to say I was terrified of this step. I don’t think it was just the affect of the take off that had hit my stomach so strongly, it was the compilation of everything and the nagging doubt that still haunts me today. I’ve pulled apart my supports and let the world I had so carefully contructed to block all of my dangers and worries, to settle cossily inside my private domain. To come crashing down around my ears. Everything was over and I had taken those fateful steps that have so far led me down an unknown and largely, unappreciated path.

The flight was relatively short and before I knew it I was being awoken by a blinking seatbelt light. “Please fasten your seatbelt, we are about to begin our decent into Dubai airport”. The message was being announced by our pilot and again my stomach seems to of descended a lot quicker than that of our plane.

I spent the next week in Fujairah with a good friend of mine. Melting from the sweat and generally being oblivious to my surroundings. Soaking up the atmosphere and having a nice time. Enjoying the friendship of thsoe I had met before and those who were new. Being instantly accepted into a community I was not readily off, it was fun, it was nice and it felt happy.

Goodbyes are never a nice thing, again this one was more so unpleasant for without the support of my friends I would of been broken from unspeakable sadness, regret and the fear of loss. I was, and still am. In denial of the steps I have taken. The path I am walking down doesn’t have any signposts and there’s definitely no light at the end of the tunnel. Only my determination to be better, stronger and more secure is keeping me going, for my feet will surely stumble on this dark and uneven path. I am not led by god or believe as many would be, instead this comes from inside to prove to myself that I am me. Maybe also to reflect the slight arrogance thats clearly part of my being, slightly better. Just to rise above the lip of the wave and to have the strength and determination to ride the ripcurl to a different land, a different destiny, a new beach and finally. Warmer climates. Obviously a metaphor in Australian winter.

I understand a little better now how those who come to London, many my friends, struggle through a foreign and often harsh, lonely winter to come out on the other side. I think I can connect a little better with them on terms of empathy to what they must have, and still do experience. For those of you who know me and know what I am talking about. I respect and love you all more now than I have ever done before. With you in my mind I will fight this winter and explore this land. Onwards and Upwards.

My first day in Melbourne is going to be spent getting my feet and my bank account sorted out. For the love of God I hope sincerely this does not become a lifestyle. I will hopefully avoid the necessities that are inherent in this by not taking on those little reflections of a true citizen, you understand. Local sim cards, bank accounts, jobs and friends with the local school headmaster.

Today is a new day, it is early and there is much to do. Today is the beginning, today…

So long Motherfuckers!!!!

19 Jun

Today is my last day in my current job before I leave for Australia. I’m fighting this internal instinct to go on a rampage of anger and destruction. Destroying all in my path and leaving in a blaze of fire and intent. Destruction to the limits. Or some such. To be honest it’s only my sense of pride, responsibillity and proffessionalism that is stopping my commiting IT career suicide and bringing down all hell fire.

So long MOTHERFUCKERS!!!! swearing makes me feel better. It’s such a nice release of frustrations and limitations. I don’t even know WHY I feel like this

I never

5 Jun

I never write about the ones I love or the happiness in my heart. If you read my posts you would think that I have nothing much in my life except blind ambition to an unforeseen goal. A direction and dogged determined attitude towards something completely obscure to all who know me.

This morning has been oddly upsetting. There is someone I love, I think so, very much, but who am I too know if what I think I feel is real. I’ll miss her so much and the fear of loosing what I have stumbled into, almost blindly makes me turn my back, almost on a goal I have aimed for over the past year or more. I have this desire and this need to push for these goals regardless of the pain it causes because I know its something I need to do before I regret my whole life knowing I could be a better person.

I’ve been waiting to hear these words for a while that maybe for me it is a solitary journey.

I’m scared of this trip, even more so now. But part of me considers it may be better, to be honest with myself, my mind has tossed and turned backwards and forwards constantly for the past month or more. To be or not to be, to go or not to go, to do or not to do. Whatever the answers, logic persuades me finally to accept, once more. To accept that I may lose, through fault of my own, something very special and unique to me…

You know how some songs remind you of the thoughless instictive care and love of those around you, those people that love you even if you are a smelly git…

MMoM

3 Jun

Whilst I am still very much mellowing in my melancholy moment of madness I have decided to find something to make me smile. A quick google search for “funny email correspondence” brought me to this result. Now, instead of making me laugh it brought forth the feeling’s I consistently have about “people” as a whole. Slightly ignorant, racist and of course cocky, some think they are funny. Others direct their stupidity towards those, whose only concern is to try and help resolve the situation.

In the link we see an email directed towards a police station in the UK. The complaint being that it is very difficult to get through to someone on the phone and the complainee, let’s call him fuckwad to keep his privacy and well being at their uttermost. So Mr Fuckwad decides to email a police station to complain that a bunch of kids or teenagers are playing ball against a fence outside his home. He describes the youths as “walking abortions” and you can already tell he’s the kind of old, grumpy, self serving, self centered, unrealistic, stuck up twat that writes to his local newspaper on a weekly basis to discuss the decline of this country. He probably fought in a war that ended 10 years before he was born, and his sister is friends with the queen.

After a lengthy rant about a simple matter he ends with what can only be considered a rude and peremptory closing of the email.

Here’s where I’ll quote you the professional and polite, also helpful email from his local PC.

“Mr Fuckwad,

I have read your e-mail and understand your frustration at the problems caused by youth playing in the area and the problems you have encountered in trying to contact the police.

As the Community Beat Officer for your street I would like to extend an offer of discussing the matter fully with you.

Should you wish to discuss the matter, please provide contact details (address / telephone number) and when may be suitable.

Regards

PC ???

?????????????

Community Beat Officer”

Let’s dissect the email. First line, a polite greeting to Mr Fuckwad. The hero of this particular story.  The second line and indeed first paragraph begins and ends nicely clearly underlining the issues that were raised in the original complaint and reiterating that the responding PC has taken the trouble to read the dribble coming from Mr F’s mouth as he salivates onto his computer keyboard whilst touching his sister. Ok that bit didn’t happen but he might as well be some inbred hick by the pleasure he takes at his inconsistent and obtuse email where he is clearly attempting some form of humorous writing.
The second paragraph in the response introduces the respondent as the local PCSO. Ok so the email is being responded to by the correct person, someone who understands the complaint and also understands the area and the person he is responding to. Our responding PCSO finishes by simply offering to contact the emailing Mr Fuckwad at a convenient time via the telephone to arrange a face to face meeting where they can discuss the matters that have been brought up and hopefully resolve the issues satisfactory.
So, instead of acknowledging the very polite response and arranging a suitable time to have a much closer and personal resolution to the initial, very minor issue. Mr Fuckwad decides that he is too clever for this simple PCSO and will respond with scorn and sarcasm. I wonder why he has such a bad life and consistently fails to achieve. Karma’s a bitch.

P.s I’m lying in bed typing this by candle light whilst drinking chocolate horlicks. It seems to be a killer equation and only time will tell if it has any exceptions.

Cheese and Maths

3 Jun

There’s always been one equation that I thought was 100% foolproof and not affected by any exceptions. Unfortunately I believe that right now that equation is being stretched to it’s limit and if the exception is not enforced then it will break. This could mean the end of civilisation as we know it.

The equation in question being:

Me + Cheese = Happiness

My unusual melancholy is forcing me to sit and stare out the window, a Wednesday evening and the whole day has slipped by me without even the notice of a pigeon to inspire me to smile. Sure there has been some good, no day is ever 100% bad but right now I feel very stuck in a melancholy mood and as such I’m rather grouchy and tired. I don’t feel like smiling, sleeping or any of the other things that would normally make me feel better. Instead I’m very tempted to wallow in self pity, I could put on some bad music and sulk, eat chocolate and smoke cigars. No. I will not of course, those times are over. How I ever got so low who knows, right now I have so many things to look forward to and enough strength to keep pushing forward against all the walls that block my path.

I remember those times actually, not greatly but I remember. I think I may have written of them several months ago, when they were still fresh and apparent. When I would open a bottle of wine, a big bar of Cadbury’s double chocolate, a packet of cigars and some loud music. Feeling sorry for myself and in affect punishing my body. Even now though I do not lament those times 100%. There has been some good. I made many friends I would otherwise have not, and in some small part I hope we have helped each other through the darkness of winter.

For now, I need a new equation because I can’t hit rock bottom. I need something solid to hold onto, something to know doesn’t change. I love cheese but it’s just not cutting it right now….

Bugs and Bits

23 May

Not been working today. Some pictures of Bugs 😀

Purple - YAY

Purple - YAY

Fly, fly my preeeetttiiiieeeessss

Fly, fly my preeeetttiiiieeeessss

Flowersssss

Flowersssss

Bee + Flower = Yum

Bee + Flower = Yum

Quick! Get inside

Quick! Get inside

Bee by flower

Bee by flower

Beeee on the grass

Beeee on the grass

Beeee on the grass (2)

Beeee on the grass (2)

Flowerbed

Flowerbed

Fly-on-the-wall, well. Fly on a leave :D

Fly-on-the-wall, well. Fly on a leave 😀

Fly-on-the-wall, well. Fly on a leave :D (2)

Fly-on-the-wall, well. Fly on a leave 😀 (2)

Final equality and Chivalry

21 May

I think I have probably written my thoughts on this previously, but I have a new Netbook (Asus EEEPC 1000HE) so I’m lying here on my couch typing and its very nice. Nice keyboard :D. Anyway, I think I was prompted to this thought watching men race for train seats on our overcrowded train service today. I woman gave one gentleman a look of pure, the word can only really be anger. At his sheer cheek to not offer her his seat. Well my dear…you did want equality right?

For years and years women have been complaining, fighting and coercing until they have a semblance of equality. Ok, if I don’t disclaimer now I’m sure someone is going to correct me that there are still glaring omissions to equality between men and women. I’ll tell you now that the chance is, it’s YOUR FAULT. Ok maybe not you personally, but let’s try to generalise here for the sake of a balanced argument of sorts. Women ARE different from men. Yes? we can agree there I am sure. So yes, your bodies aren’t as well suited to certain jobs. You know, heavy lifting, building or making a decision without changing your mind? Ok, I kid on the last one. But it is actually a valid point. You want equality but you still want men to treat you like the “Weaker Sex” you know, chivalry. Paying for everything, opening doors and being a gentleman, offering you the last seat. Standing when you enter a room? Ok, most of that is common courtesy and things which I strive for. But the arguments are valid. There is not equality, but it’s on both sides. Men are still expected to behave certain ways to women. Perfect example is to give up a seat. Yet there are none of the same expectations on women.

This is one of those arguments that can be batted back and forth constantly and has been for generations. Isn’t it easier to accept that Men and Women are different. There’s nothing wrong with it. Isn’t it nice to know whats expected from the opposite sex, rather than trying to suss out where the power balance lies? Trying to work out what kind of women she is? Does she expect you treat her like an equal, but pay for the drinks? Does he want to treat you like a princess, hold your hand and look out for you????

Who knows…