Dumb ways to die

Hailstorm

And there I was lying next to you wishing i didnt have to leave
Knowing that I have to go because i was stubborn and didn't want to appear weak, needy.

First there was lightning and the loud crack of thunder.
The sky opened and poured down rain.
And then the hail fell.

I had to look, watch the hail pelt the window. The cracks appearing on your window, feel the cold.
Within and without.
And in that moment I felt an overwhelming fear of everything.
You held me and it didnt make it much better.
I did feel less alone.

We had our most serious conversation yet.
Your lack of belief and my yearning to believe.
The cab came, the goodbye kiss.

The street was wet and there were bits of hail on the ground.

I thought about you half the time I was away.
And now Im here and you're away.

I write these down because there should be a record of my emotional breakdown

Received another complaint at work- another unhappy punter. Another bad decision on my part.

Hmphhhh. I cried throughout the day at work. I barely made it through. Made my first police witness report, through tears. Fun fun.

And then I come home to an early nap before commencing work.

I get a text from the boy. He's drinking and lamenting the lack of attractive people at current watering hole (he's on one of the channel islands). Yeay for drunkard text? (as i type this im thinking, 'Oh dear Liez, what the hell? You're pathetic enough to be happy with the odd tipsy text message and whatever little sign of affection you get? Really?!!!' Maybe my friends are right. Maybe I deserve better. Little cute gestures be damned- Im deserving of 'boombox outside of bedroom window' grandiose gesture.)

watch for the slide
it's a slippery slope and im gaining velocity

Sicily Succinctly

Mediterranean sunshine, good food and meeting great people.

Amazing seafood, arancini, peaches and cheap beer. Even cheaper coffee. 40 cent espressos.

Granitas.

Dinner with two professors and a sociologist; Walking across Italian highways to get to a beach party, staying up all night and eating pastries while watching the sunrise. Watching Tom have raw oysters at 7 am.

There is an heavily tattooed, lovely Italian man called Paolo who is our Italian Fairy Godfather (shout out to Matt from Cali, love you dude).

Watermelons :P

Became an Isabella Blow for the next up and coming Alexander McQueen of Knitwear. He's 6'4, a Northern teddybear with black false nails. Buying him lunch was my investment in the arts.

Was watched over by 3 men as we partied at the local hotspot in Palermo (it's a fish market by day and the area was never regenerated after being bombed in WW2). It was a brilliant night. Josh said he faced 'boyfriend envy'- I was very flattered to hear that.

Was scared at the Catacombs in Palermo- it felt as if the dead was watching me. The vibe there was weird.

Challenged by another northern man to try and fit my fist in my mouth. I cant, but there was a discussion about how big my mouth was and he drunkardly asked me if I loved my boy.

Had to rescue a little English rose from the Sicilian John Malcovich (serious doppleganger moment).

Got baked in Cefalu- Le Bronzissima!!! Sun stroked

Patischerria Cappello: Settevelli is the name of the best cake ever. I had it once before in Malaysia (made by a family friend) and though I would never taste anything like it again. Until Settevelli (the seven veils). It was worth getting lost, chafing my thighs and the blisters on my feet.  I made a pilgrimage for that cake.

For the first time ever- I was early for a flight back to London

Giddy silly liezy

I think I got a mention on his twitter.



STOP IT

Still, it'll be nice to go on holiday somewhere warm, or Scotland.

Possibility

Sometimes when we're together i think that possibly, possibly we could be more than this. Then you say something that brings the reality of the situation back to what it is.

'There isn't a possibility', I keep telling myself; but you can be so good at bringing false hope. 

someone finally said it.

I feel like that everywhere I work; and whenever I cant fix them.

listening to the radio makes me feel less lonely.

i cannot imagine living alone for another year.

This is for you, oh wise one.

 The one who tells me, 'you need to spend time with happy people, people in normal relationships.'


Oh, and finding love is a matter of luck 
Oh, and unsettled lovers move from fuck to fuck 
Oh, and compare their achievements like discussing bereavements 
And compare their abrasions with romantic quotations 
Oh, as peaceful the world watches down

Late at night

When im studying and a sudden pang of heartsickness hits i wish there is there is something or someone i can hold on to before it sweeps me away and burrows a massive hole where my heart used to be.

Mekah

My mother's currently in Mecca- visiting the muslim pilgrimage site which forms one of the pillars of Islam. She's there for Umrah; the Haj is a far more complicated affair.

A comparatively simple visit, a practise run for the rites and rituals that are meant to strengthen one's faith, to be physically and spiritually closer to God. The Holy Land.

She's not explained to me why she's decided to go; we're not a family to have heart-to-hearts. We share sanitised,  PG 12 versions of our problems with Disney-happy endings. I see the tired lines around her eyes and occasionally she drops the facade when it's to heavy to bear.

'there's problems, but it'll be ok'
'im so tired but i cant sleep'

I imagine she's gone to get some respite- a break from the insanity of the daily grind. An opportunity to meditate. A chance to pray in the holiest of places.

I joke and tell my friends she's gone to pray for our souls. I sincerely hope she does.

I really want to ask her when she comes back, 'did you find what you were looking for? And what more did you find?'

Balance

This new friend will either make or break me. It will take discipline and strength of character; both of which I have none. I'll need both to sustain this.

Time and distance is the enemy. I need to make the most of time and... Not much I can do about distance. There is much going on in my life; professionally there is a lot I need to achieve and there are new comrades at work I would like to foster strong bonds with. Old friends who need love and gossip.

And then there is this- something undefined yet very comforting. I was always comfortable with lack of structure but im wary of the lack of security. It is different from anything else I've known- but for now, it's good and it works.

We have spoken about how we are good for each other- I'm helping him get over a vaguely alluded to heartbreak/nervous breakdown and he with my discomfiture with relationships. It's partially working- he's says he's sleeping better and my hair is looking amazing; I'm still as insecure about the opposite sex as I was though.

 I'll need make the most of my time- I'll need maximise work, study and exercise and home chores during the working week and on wind down on off days with friend-time. It will take planning, lots of trainline bookings and an unhealthy amount of time sleeping on trains.

Written on the train back to Ipswich after a lovely friend-time weekend

Any excuse for a holiday: Happy National Kissing Day!

Define

It started a couple of months ago as social experiment. Only the select who will not judge me harshly (or could be relied on to identify my body at the morgue) were told. In hushed whispers and with promises to take it to the grave.

''Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead...''

It's worked out better than expected. Objectives were achieved and i made it out alive. And now I'm here not knowing what this is or what to do. Ok, maybe saying I made it out alive is a little premature. But let's say at this juncture I'm pretty sure I wont be killed in my sleep or left for dead on the side of a highway.

Talking about highways- I passed my UK driving test!

Im a pretty decent judge of character i guess (or lucky, like my granny used to say, 'someone's praying for you honey'. I think it was her). My friends are happy that i have another place to crash in town and i like that he likes cuddles on rainy days too.  I have a toothbrush and contact lens case and solution there and the coffee in the cupboard's for me (he drinks tea). We've survived 36 hours of each others company. I'm an ex-city girl living in a village and he lives in the big city but hails from a little town somewhere green, beautiful and far far away.

He's taken me to a coffee festival and I bought him socks and pair of cheeky pants for his birthday. I refuse to meet his housemates though we've borrowed the dog for a walk on the common. He will not call and takes forever to reply texts.

Hmmmppffffttt.

Im treading carefully and minding my tongue. There's no real need to define something as long as we're having fun, right? I won't do anything silly. I promise.

What's changed?

Everything and nothing.

24 hours and everything has changed. It is different although it all still appears much the same.

Man who makes pancakes

If you know me, you know i like love pancakes.

Love them in all their forms. Savoury crepes, sweet heavy fluffy pancakes, even lempeng pisang yo. And im a romantic. Remember that 90s film Practical Magic? Where the Sandra Bullock character conjures a spell for the perfect man? And one of the things she asked for was a man who can flip pancakes?

Pancake-making skills is on my perfect man list.

So i found me a man who makes pancakes. For me, for breakfast. Ok, it was noon; but who needs to wake up early when lying in is so much more fun? And apologises for lack of a breakfast tray. 

Too bad he cant make me breakfast everyday. 

MMR

SO many things have happened.

Where do I start.....

I am committing career suicide. Is it deliberate or is this some self-actualizing secret suppressed desire to escape medicine? (what else can I do that'll set me up this comfortably? I have no other skill set to speak of)

My procrastination has reached epic proportions. Hypnotherapy and neural-linguistic programming is the next step i think. I never learn....

I decided to make an effort for someone, someone im not too sure about. It's alien to let myself be so vulnerable. He isn't perfect and he's far from the one; he's giving me a chance, so im gonna give this guy a shot.

Im learning to see my own beauty. Sure i scrub myself raw, rub all manner of unguents and spend loads of the right clothes; but i may just becoming that beautiful butterfly i never thought i'd become. Just a few more kilos darling.

Someone I know attempted suicide. I'd wouldn't have guessed they had the guts or the strength of character for a serious attempt.

The real reason for writing this entry: the MMR jab on left arm hurts like a bitch; and i have pins and needles radiating down my arm and up my neck. If i die before i wake i love you mom and dad; im sorry you had to clean up this mess.

To my brother; run away, fly free. Do it all now. Listen to what people tell you, see their point of view and then do what you think is right. Fall, get up, learn. Scars are stories. And remember; they'll love you no matter what and you are a good person.

I know i'll wake up tomorrow still in this mess.
Maybe with a dead arm.

When i was young I would sing along, suffering as only a lonely isolated teenager can.

Not much has changed.

I am an awkward, lonely adult.

And im still in the ranks of the freaks who suspect they can never love anyone.

After my blood is drowning in alcohol

I bought a new toy today- it's a tablet that not an iPad. I feel a little stupid for not buying iPad but at least I'm saving a few quid and can still work In bed.

See, the laptop's been broken. The battery is. The rest of it still works well (ish)

It's absolutely frfreezing and the radiators in the front room don't want to work so I'm tucked up in bed with an aching knee and the new tablet. It works.

Happy days. Cold nights.
Slushy snowy bike rides to my cold empty flat.

Give me love.

Bills

There is nothing romantic about bills.

I thought there was going to be. But no- even i couldnt make bills romantic. I now have bills; electricity, water, sewage. Sewage! I forget all the shit flows somewhere and eventually someone has to deal with it- and i pay for the luxury. 

I managed to get to 27 before having to pay bills- i think i did pretty well considering i started paying taxes at 18.

Taxes are never sexy, or romantic. It is necessary and evil.