More thoughts on Relationships

EDIT: While I've been writing this I notice there's a lot of anger, tears and resentment coming out. I guess it had to come out at some point. This is kind of ... intimate "Natalie needing to document these thoughts somewhere" writing, right here. It's not really for anybody else and while you could argue "well this is on the public space of the www" I really don't see why I have to justify myself to you, dear reader, because this blog? This blog is my private blog. If you're nosy, feel free to read it. But don't you dare get offended by what I've said here. These are things which still hurt and are very raw.

Obviously, I'm single - but I still think about 'the next relationship' that I'll fall into and ultimately, I always come up against the same set of bricks that build themselves up into a wall.

Firstly, even in the short space of eleven months, I've grown far too attached to doing my own thing, in my own space, spending my time alone. I can extend myself for the people who I feel deserve my time and attention and more importantly, I can choose when to do this. When I was in a relationship, I felt pressured to 'look after' him. He was pathetic; he was incapable of getting breakfast for himself or catching a train, or even holding a real conversation with me. I can't stomach people who aren't able to stand on their own two feet and I don't understand why the majority of men are capable of doing this ... until they have a woman to do it for them.

Here, the thought of being in a relationship where it's both necessary and compulsory to spend time together turns my stomach. I can't seem to find enough time to spend with my family, my sister, my (decent) housemate, friends both old, and new. I relish the precious two hours in which I speak to Willow before she goes to school. Spending time with a partner? No. No way.

Secondly, sex. I hate how men always have this expectation for sex. I don't particularly enjoy 'it' - I can't describe the sickening pit-of-the-stomach fear I get, even if it's been safe, even if it was fooling around and nothing much ever happened; the fear of pregnancy. A lot of people say that they suffer from paranoia. My paranoia is crippling ordinarily, but I have, on a number of occasions, worried myself so sick that my period came a whole week late. Worried myself into an insomnia that lasted three days. Worried worse when my period *did* come, because it was light and I thought I was only spotting. I wasn't, it came full force the next morning. I dislike sex, no, dare I say - I hate sex. I'm disinclined to partake in it. The lack of it ruins relationships so in effect you have to be having it if you want your relationship to last. I new the lack of sex was killing our bond, but I struggled to kiss him towards the end. I can't love somebody that way after not having seen him for months, if he never loved me back during the times in between.

Thirdly, I hate how dependant being in a relationship made me. I think I'm slowly learning that above all else, I'm my own person - but when I was in a relationship I expected him to look after me as much as I did him, so when he didn't, I felt very cheated. I hated how he would spend so much time with his female friends, but not me. I hate even now - that he comes up to Manchester so often, but when he was with me, it was such a 'chore'.

They say that it is always the woman who ruins the relationship. To some extent I agree with this statement, but it is also the man who lays the foundations for this ruin. He is the one who ignores her, makes excuses for himself - in turn this makes her paranoid, nag at him, eat away at the relationship until there's nothing left between them at all.

When I broke up with him, it was a huge weight off my shoulders. When people asked me if I was ok, I really was - the only emotion I felt was relief. Naive little me thought that heart-break was supposed to feel like that tightening of the chest I used to get when I thought 'oh, what if our relationship ends one day?' - it was unthinkable, and the thought of it really hurt and I called that feeling 'heart-break'. But that's not it. I have learned heartbreak is the inability to love somebody as fully as you did the first time. Love opens you up completely and lays you vulnerable, and when that trusting bond is severed you quickly cobble together walls around the wound with whatever you have to hand. Paper, straw, bits of fabric. Eventually they'll harden and form a husk around it. Your heart isn't broken in a painful way, it's broken in an inefficient, inability-to-function properly, way. "If I never love anybody ever again" I'll say to myself "That's fine, because I don't need anybody else but me to be happy."

( I find a certain irony that this is a sentiment echoed by another one of my characters, Kiesl. I hope I find some catharsis in helping him resolve his own misery )

I know that has to be a lie, so minutes later I'll add "I don't care who I end up loving, just as long as they love me back just as much"

This statement makes me both content, but also incredibly sad. Right now I don't feel there is ever going to be anybody suited to me for that, because I am most happy when I'm in a close intimate friendship than I am a relationship. I used to think there ought to be no difference between the two, but ... clearly my ex thought differently and now I just feel like I was stupid and naive and wrong.

Finally, I've been thinking about all of this a lot ever since I read something, and I'm not going to say what it was because if this blog hasn't already made people think less of me, then the source of my 'epiphany' will damn me even further. But I recall a conversation I held with a close friend of mine while reading it and the statement rings truer now than it did then;

W: "are you enjoying your book?"
N: "yes, this is ... exactly what I needed to read."

And perhaps I'm being presumptuous, but I found common ground between my situation and what I read there and while it didn't provide me with an answer, it was a comfort. At the same time I'm aware that this kind of thing happens to everybody at some point in their lives (apart from perhaps the very, very fortunate) and it's probably why heartbreak is such a big focus in people's lives. I hate how this diminishes the importance of what's happened to me in everybody else's eyes

"Oh, she broke up with her boyfriend. I've divorced my husband/broken up five times before now/my lover died"

This is why I have kept this entirely to myself. It doesn't matter to you, my reader, but I've realised that this really has affected me more than I thought it had. I don't bitch or whine or do spiteful things to get back at my ex, but while I'm a much stronger person for having ended this relationships, in some ways I am very, very broken. And that's what hurts the most. The fact I'm damaged property now. Above all else,

I hate how he damaged me.

So basically the TL;DR version of this is that, while I've gotten over *him*, I don't miss him, or want him back in my life, and I haven't since day 1 post breakup, I haven't gotten over the damage that relationship has done to me emotionally and I don't think I ever will. In the real world people expect prospective partners to be 'just right' and not have any emotional baggage, and if they do, you keep it to yourself, thanks. Everyone has gone through it, or gone through worse, and if you can't handle what's happened to you, tough shit, you're in the reject pile sweetheart 'cos the real world doesn't care. Excuse me, I'm fragile and I got broken and there isn't any glue that can fix that. Normal people pick themselves up and get on with it. Drama-seeking attention whores go on about it indefinitely. I'll bury this piece of me and I won't say a word on it, hell, I'll forget it's even there most of the time, but just remember that beneath every smile, every gesture I give to another person, every laugh, there's a great deal of damage that's been set aside.

Friends, family, curiosity at the world and self-betterment are what make my life rich and I can bury this broken part of myself away and pretend it isn't there. This entry was just to highlight and work through what it feels like to bring it to the surface and I hate how much it hurts, I really do. I hate how much my frustration at my inability to fix myself makes me cry so hard.

They say the average grieving period of a relationship is half the time the relationship lasted, and if that's the case I'd say I've technically got another seven months before I'm ready to try again. Right now I honestly don't think I'm cut out for another relationship for as long as I live. I hope I live a long time and this may be a foolish and youthful thing to say, but I don't think I've got it in me for another one.

Sorry.

PMT rant

I'd like to say I've gone raging feminist, but I'm even raging against the feminists right now. In the space of the last 24hours I think I've gotten annoyed at;

- The toss pots kicking the football about outside. All day.
- James Nobles wants to add me as a 'friend' on facebook. Douche.
- That film "the human centipede" sorry, but it's depraved and disgusting.
- Vegans.
- The flies that come into my room through cracks in the walls.
- The pelage that's formed a near beard on my jaw.
- the spots on the right hand side of my face that won't clear up
- the breadstick that fell on the floor and broke
- Feminists
- Lesbians
- Homophobic people
- The stray bit of skin on my burn that I pulled and made my finger bleed
- The people who drive by blasting their crap music into the street
- Relationships.
- How my room wouldn't stop smelling like Earl Grey after that one cup

Like, the last thing, it's a really nice smell, but it got on my nerves? I hate PMT, I really do. I hate how it comes on mid-cycle, too. It's like I got a week of feeling like crap emotionally, then a week of feeling like crap physically. I also promised myself this blog would be used for happy things. But idk, I guess that's what my tumblr is for.

And Relationships; I got to thinking about those again today. About how you have to compromise yourself for another person and then there's always that possibility they're not going to reciprocate which makes you feel like crap, but you never want to not compromise for them because it makes you a bitch? How men are always like "lul sexytimes now plz?" and how if the woman doesn't give him that, he'll go a'wandering. WTF. I think I pretty much hate sex. Not the thought of it, but the physical act of it - all it does is gives the man something he can get by jacking off anyway, while you get that small fear in the pit of your stomach, even when you've been safe of "oh, what if my period doesn't come. What if I get pregnant?" And then it's like "oh I'm so happy my uterus is forcing it's way out through my cervix! 8D"

I once worried myself so hard my period came a whole week later than it should have done. And you know what? There was absolutely no possible way I could have been. I was just paranoid.

Sometimes I wish I was a man.

I hate how much of a man-hating feminist I can be sometimes. It makes me feel like a dyke.

Auditory Discovery

For me, there's always been a thrill in discovering more music that I like. It's almost universally never cutting edge brand spanking new, but I think if I made a conscious effort to keep up with all of that, I'd end up frustrating myself with the amount of rubbish that I had to wade through. Anyway, point in hand, the last time I went on a proper independent music 'hunt' I came up with three bands that I still adore even to this day; Fields (the new Fields.), Tin Hat Trio (renamed themselves Tin Hat now, I believe) and Crippled Black Phoenix. They're all vastly different from one another and I'll admit, especially in the case of the last two bands, not to everyone's tastes.

I've been listening to a lot of the latter, lately. CBP, as you might expect from the name, to me, can be summed up in one word. Miserable. Certainly not miserable in the eyeliner-black, wrist-slitting 'my life is awful kill me now' dramatic emo teenager way. As soon as it fills my ears it puts me in mind of drizzly northern cities; a lonely, grimy iron vessel ploughing through a bleak sea; pollution choked industrial alleyways. It's that misery of the mundane, I guess. What I also like about each album, is that I feel they each tell a story. It's not all doom and gloom, either - there's brief moments of hope like a small bit of sunshine breaking through the cloud cover. You know that advert for ITV they had with the kids along the overcast beach and the tatty umbrella? I think that perfectly sums up this band, for me.

I still wish that advert hadn't been for ITV, of all things. What a waste of a good idea.

Sadly, the latter two have done very little in the way of new material. Fields promised a new album this year but as of yet nothing has been heard. Tin Hat haven't put anything out since 2007. CBP recently put out a chock-load of new stuff in '200 Tonnes of Bad Luck' and 'The Ressurectionists', but I've listened to both of those albums to death now. So anyway, I got on Amazon, and I started nosing around.

And I found Silvery and Band Of Horses

I think anybody listening to this, who knows me, will identify one of the reasons why I immediately liked the former. The latter sounds a bit (dare I say this) coldplay-y/keane-y (when I still liked Coldplay). Even so, both have the potential to ultimately annoy me with repeated listening. There was some other stuff I found too - this just happened to be the two most recent artists out of the selection of about five I've pinned for purchase. When I have the money.

Put on your red shoes and dance the blues

Well, fully recovered from Saturday night I can happily say that overall, even though there were one or two things that ultimately made me a little sad, I had a good time.

I received and email two days prior to our big night reminding us that the start of the ball had changed from seven thirty to seven o'clock sharp. This didn't so much matter; it was just meant we had to phone for the taxi earlier than normal. On Saturday I had arranged to meet up with mum in Greenfield for coffee and to pick up some jewellery I needed (it's a girl thing, I hadn't got any that matched my dress), but I was back in plenty of time to start getting ready. Now, I'm the kind of person that even when they're going on a night out can get ready in fifteen minutes or less and perhaps that's a bad thing, but since I had two hours to fill, I spent those two hours doing pointlessly girly things.

We all met up at our house before catching the taxi to the Lowre. I haven't been in many 'posh' hotels so I couldn't say whether it was stunningly posh, but it looked very nice from the inside. I also didn't miss how the doorman made a point of herding me towards the lift as I tried to have a look around the reception. Probably didn't want us students mingling with the celebrities that stayed there.

Upstairs for the Buck's fizz reception, we were some of the first to arrive - finding ourselves a corner to stand and admire other people's costumes. One particular girl was wearing a turquoise dress that kind of came up at the front like curtains and was so short it neither covered top nor bottom, to put it nicely. She was orange, too. On the whole though, people had made the effort to dress up and this was nice; I think out of everyone there I only saw three people who looked more as though they were going clubbing and considering this ball is open to all years that's pretty good going.

The dining hall was bedecked in white and lilac and every table had an arrangement of flowers and tea lights. It was all very posh; in true Beresford fashion I have to admit the highlight of the evening was almost definitely the food. I had opted, naturally, for the vegetarian meal and to start this meant I got cream of tomato soup. You can put aside visions of the tinned stuff for just a second (I know it's hard to do, I love that stuff too); this was coarsely blended a little like purée but runnier, deep post-box red and very tomatoey with a small swirl of cream in the middle and a bit of fresh basil sprinkled on the top. Gorgeous. For mains I had chargrilled sweet potato with chickory, drizzled with a sweet chilli, pineapple and walnut sauce which again, was very tasty. The sweet potato was shaped into a square which later I found out was formed of little layers with a kind of cheese sauce in between.

I have to take a break here before dessert, to tell you a small anecdote. Now, there were ten or twelve to a table and we only had seven, so we were joined by a handful of others (they were all second years). Amongst them was ... yes, turquoise dress girl. She also had the vegetarian menu and upon tucking into her main she exclaimed, 'oh yum! lasagne!'

I'm glad nobody noticed me fight to keep a straight face.

Anyway, after a brief pause we were brought dessert. I had the crème brûlée which came in a round, shallow dish garnished with a lump of cream, a strawberry and two biscuits. Well, the cream was rejected to one side because that wasn't happening, but the rest of it was perfect. After dessert came the obligatory coffee or tea and petite fours, I just took the coffee and sat back to watch the jazz band until their set ended (we were all pretty stuffed by this point). After this point we all got up for a dance and to take more photos.

It was at this point it all started getting a bit 'university club' and the masqueradish theme kind of dissipated; we'd stood and had our photo taken by a 'professional' photographer (who was a bit rubbishy) and had a few photos taken with one of those white statue people, but by this time people were getting quite inebriated and masks had come off. Turquoise dress girl was passed out on a chair across the table and everyone was getting couply. I mean, this was all minor compared to the venue, the price of the tickets and the whole excitement of it all; that aside I had a great time.

Paper faces on parade

So moving on, to celebrate this momentous deadline me and my friends (Karen, Hannah, Sandy and the respective men partners) will be attending a masquerade ball on Saturday night. I state who will be coming tentatively, because while I know for definite we will have Karen, Hannah, Sandy and Damien with us, there's been a little bit of the usual broo-haa-haa whether or not Wayne (Sandy's husband) will come and yesterday Karen told me on a quiet aside that she's heard something about James (Hannah's beau) not being able to come either.

You may also notice the significant lack of Avanti - and yes, her absence will be sorely missed. I can't recall the exact reason, but I think initially she was supposed to still be in Holland at this point with V, but had to come back to England early. She's had more trouble with her project than any of us, and she also told us that a ticket plus a dress and a mask would be too much for her (in typical Avanti style, apologising profusely). Avanti is possibly the most honest and selfless person I know and while it's a crying shame she won't be with us, we arranged for pizza on the friday night to catch up with her then, instead (:

Anyway, I digress. Masquerade balls have been a point of quiet wonder for me for a long time - when I think masquerade I think Phantom of the opera (or god, that creepy scene from Labyrinth) and quite unlike me I'm stupidly, girlishly excited about the whole affair. Perhaps this has something to do with my mask arriving just this morning - I even got the whole 'special delivery for Natalie Beresford'. Anyway, the picture above is my mask. Pretty, aint it? I had already saved myself a tonne of money by wearing a dress I have *gasp* worn before (highschool dinner dance, yes it still fits. Better than it did when I was sixteen, actually) so I figured I could go spend a bit of money on a nice mask, rather than buying a three quid one 'and making do'. The trouble was, my dress is a fetching (if awkward) shade of purple and there was always that risk of 'if I buy a mask with purple on it, the purple will be a different shade and it won't match'.

So initially, I began looking at entirely black masks. I have to say after my searching, all-black masks are universally boring unless they're decorated with feathers. The problem with masquerade masks is that feathers tend to be huge, and with me being... petite, huge feathers stuck to my face would look really dumb. So a featherless mask that wasn't all black, OR had any purple on it was my goal. This narrowed my options down considerably.

In the end I stumbled across http://www.accito.com/, who claim to make masks that are 'hand crafted in Venice, Italy'. Whether or not this is true I couldn't tell you, but I liked what I saw and from my searching, the pricing was very reasonable (nice masquerade masks can be up to anywhere short of £200 or more). When I found a mask in black, gold and that old ceramic kind of white, with manuscript between the eyes no less! I knew that mask was mine. It was also in the sale so I snapped it up for just over £20. Bargain.

Deadlines

Well, the hand-in date for my project is today at 4pm.

But I handed mine in yesterday.

It definitely isn't the best piece of work I've ever done, but by yesterday afternoon I knew that 1.) I was never going to understand it more than I already did in 24hours 2.) if I kept it with me, I would just keep picking at it and probably make it worse, I mean, I'm absolutely terrible with scabs and projects not handed in are in the same vein. So I printed it off, which included about ten minutes fixing one particular chart up by hand because it wouldn't print right, getting it bound, undertaking the tedious task of filling out two cover sheets for each of my copies and then finally handing the thing in. Returning home I handed in my 'electronic copy' (which apparently they use to check you ain't plagiarised) and that was it. Since yesterday afternoon I've been sat here thinking 'oh I wonder if I did this...' then telling myself off for it. There's nothing I can do about it now, so why worry?

I think some small part of me feels bad for not being as religious with its synthesis as everyone else has been. It will reflect in my mark, this I know. But another part of me felt as though I expended all my time and energy on the data collection part of the project, while everyone else was sitting in a lab or whatever, I was lugging camera and tripod, chasing after a flock of wild birds. I hope I get effort marks. Also, and this may sound like an excuse but it's true; I struggle to be diligent at something I know I'm no good at. Rather than being a centre that fosters learning and independent exploration of a given subject, uni has made me feel inferior in every conceivable way. All I really got was a three year course on how to be a pedantic twat and question everything that's put in front of me. I know that I am not closed off to learning; I still pick up chord sequences on the guitar for a song I want to learn how to play, I collect scattered pieces of knowledge I put forth in my creative writing. I have an excellent memory for trivia but a terrible one for 'non-vocal communication'.

But it's over with now. It's a month until my exams and that's another kettle of fish I'll boil when the time is right. Hooray!

A novel thought

I hear there are two main approaches to fiction writing; plot driven and character driven.

What I mean by this is that a 'plot driven' story tends to focus on exciting, action-driven writing populated by characters that were probably created with a personality constituting of five, single-word bullet points (RE: 'adventurous, philanthropic, strong-willed, moral, hot-headed'). From my reading, people attribute this kind of writing with 'male fiction' and rightly so; I'm painting with a very broad brush here, but I would say action films fall into this category, and what kind of films do men generally want to go and watch? Still, I'm not condemning this type of writing; a good plot-driven story that springs to mind is the Matrix.

The second method, 'character driven' seems to have a basic, generic plot but creates characters that to me seem very human. They have goals, preferences and their errors not only include failing to achieve the plot's aim (as the characters in the first scenario often do), but often failing in terms of being a good person. They take two steps backward for every step forward; they are not perfect archetypal cut-out people. Obviously, for this reason character driven writing runs alongside 'female fiction' because generally, women take more of an interest in people and their personal lives than men do. The Last Unicorn is still a book I value for its characters.

My point to this is a thought that occurred to me recently - surely combining the two; an excellent plot with fantastically real, fleshed out characters, would create some kind of 'super story'. But after about half an hour of trying to make this work in my head it became clear to me that it possibly cannot be done. I doubt I was alone in this idea; that there exists no examples to my scant knowledge of somebody marrying the two together suggests so. In my mind, one aspect will ultimately suffer; developing a good plot leaves little room for development of your characters and vice versa. It was as though within the predefined 'space' I had created for a novel, both were opposing forces that expanded like balloons to crush and eventually burst one another.

In my previous endeavours to write I have always been irritated by how flat and lifeless my characters are as opposed to the plot and this prevented me from moving forward. Perhaps, as a female writer, I should concentrate on the second approach. After all, creating characters is what I enjoy doing the most, thus it makes sense I ought to be exploring their lives rather than attempting to squash them into a story they want no part in.

Rant

I'm worried this blog will just turn into my own personal ranty nej-space. So it's probably best to just skip this one; it won't contain anything constructive, it's just me on a hormone induced rant-fest.

So first off, I realised for myself why Phil Collins as a solo artist is rubbish. That might not be everybody's opinion, but it's my opinion. Why did every song he churn out (except perhaps, the soundtrack to Disney's Tarzan) some dreary, churned out dirge of bland crapola? (I realise that statement made no sense. Deal.) Like, mum put on one of his CD's in the car the other day, and my god, I sat through every single one waiting for it to end. None of it inspired me.

Next, I have zero faith in about 80% of my friends right now. Maybe I've been a terrible friend lately, but have they asked me how I am? Why is it always me putting my nose out for them, yet when I need them they're not there? Rach keeps on doing weird wtf stuff behind my back, and has made me out to be the enemy even though I've done nothing wrong - that's fast becoming the flavour of my life right now. Am I some kind of easy scapegoat or something?

Thirdly, I'm eating too much. My period won't start, I've had cramps for four days in a row now and I'm sick of feeling like a bloated whale. I've eaten five slices of toast, one and a half Jamaica ginger cakes, one and a bit roast chickens, three bowls of salad, half an arctic ice roll, several hand-fulls of cheerios, a bowl full of cinnamon grahams, god knows how many cups of tea, three milky bars ... in the space of two days. I'm still hungry. I'm in pain. I want to cry all the time. Mum invites me to go shopping with her for some company then yells at me because I don't know what I want to eat. Look at the above list - does that look like it's a very decisive kind of diet to you? The grahams came at half seven in the evening. The chicken was for breakfast. No dad, I'm not pregnant.

Forthly this is just a random hatred of the way people take out their anger on me. I'm not taking your crap just because you don't feel happy right now.

Fifthly, I got an email from Jonny but he can trav off to travland and become welsh and fall off the mountain and break his legs. It was a bunch of lame excuses as to how that status wasn't aimed at me (of course, how could it be, I'm so amazingly perfect to him!) - I picked it apart in five minutes. Everything he said in that email was a lie. Go figure. GTFO. He'll get a reply, eventually. Not right now.

Sixthly, I really hate how mum is such a compulsive liar. She said we were going to visit bapcia today, but this morning she said "you know, I really ought to get the car serviced. I don't want to drive all that way. I don't think it's safe." And whenever craig phones up she makes up some bollocks about how much housework she's done.

Bapcia phoned up today, asking what time we were supposed to be there for. I felt awful - I hope mum will too when she realised Blythe had the guts to tell Bapcia the truth about what happened. Why shouldn't we? It'll all fall on our heads I know but props to Blythe - at least she was honest.

Basically, nej stamp to the world.

In other news, I've been spending less time on the internet. Instead I've been reading my book, watching Greek, thinking about buying another book to read after I finish this one, taking random excursions out, seeing baby jackdaws and I've been colouring. Yes, the poster. I'm really enjoying that - thanks dad (: xxx

"Completely fake and full of nothing but bullshit and deceit"

Nice when you know that comments like that are specifically aimed at you, isn't it?

I read that in somebody's MSN status today, and I'm pretty damn certain the only time said person signs into MSN is to talk to me. So that comment was for my benefit.

I'm not naming names, but this will be because I haven't been hanging on the end of the line for this person when they want to talk to me. Yes, I did agree that we ought to meet up and do something but I know what this person is like.

This is the kind of awful friendship that exists between a lad and a lass, and the lad 'wants something more' and the lass doesn't. She won't ever want anything more than for him to be her friend. She's told him this to his face. Twice. The second time she was blissfully single, not in any rush to fall back into a relationship. The first she happened to still be in a relationship. But he still persists. He still invites her over with the pretence that what's going on is everyone included, but instead it's a cleverly engineered situation to get him alone with her. He guilt trips her into staying longer than she really wants to, so late that he insists on walking her home. He invades her personal space almost constantly. He tries to play footsie under the table with her.

If she wanted a relationship, if she was even vaguely attracted to this lad, it might be sweet. Instead it just comes across as stifling and slightly creepy. So instead the friendship becomes unbalanced with him putting in far more effort than is needed and her doing everything in her power to avoid sending out signals that might be misinterpreted as 'leading him on'. She doesn't even feel capable of making eye contact with him most of the time. This is the kind of friendship that people base the whole scenario of 'guys and gals can't just be friends' upon, because it's true - eventually one person always ends up getting hurt. If you cave and decide to date the other person, you're essentially lying to them; you can't generate feelings of affection for somebody just like that. It's going out with somebody because you pity them, because you haven't got the balls to say no. You can't begin a relationship on lies, heaven's knows most relationships generate enough lies throughout their course as it is.

I've told him, he deserves somebody better than me. Because he does; as wonderful as he thinks I am I'm never going to be that person for him; he can love and dote on me all he likes - I wish I did have somebody like that in my life who I loved just as much. I just don't love him in that way. I never will, and I certainly don't currently. But how can I be any more blunt with him without sounding like a complete cow? I tell him these things because I care about him as a friend, I don't want to lead him on but it seems that whatever I do I end up messing things up more.

As you can see - he's clearly not happy with not being able to speak to me for the sum total of seven days. I've not spoken to Karen for about the same length of time, and she's not posting bitchy statuses on msn. I can't deal with the guilt that's piled onto me for not being able to generate affection for somebody, it isn't fair. I struggle to be a good, consistent friend to people at the best of times - but he brings out the worst in me.

Breaking news! Or not

I hate that feeling of knowing something that other people don't, just as much as I hate not knowing something that they do. Exclusivity isn't a state I'm comfortable with at all and neither is superiority, but this afternoon I had a run in with such a situation and it was everything I could do to not come across as an overbearing know-it-all. I mean, I have always been the kind of person to question everything and while this is good in some contexts, it means that I'm predisposed to picking things apart worse than a crow at a carcass. Unfortunately this aspect of my personality is something that university has only compounded.

Anyway, I digress - the incident I'm blogging about happened over MSN, when a good friend of mine literally sprang online in an excited frenzy to tell me that Bowie was releasing a new album. The conversation went something like this;

"Oh my god, Nat - you'll never believe this. I've just finished watching an interview with David Bowie on the TV and apparently he's releasing a new album this year! It was with techno music though, it sounded really different..."

So like, I hate to be a cynic but I was having difficulty in believing this considering the man's kind of stuffed the music business for the last six or seven years save for that DVD release he did recently of his last tour or something along those lines. Plus, when she mentioned techno my first thoughts were 'but he's already done that' - I mean, why would he do another album in the same style (it's Bowie...) and why would he do an album in a style that people didn't really like?

"Are you sure this is a recent album? It sounds kinda like Earthling..."
"No I swear, he was going to release it this year, he said"
"Oh right. What's the album called?"
"I can't remember the name of it - but I remember what the album cover looked like; it was him in a union jack outfit, backed by english countryside."

And uh, I don't know about you, but; http://images.uulyrics.com/cover/d/david-bowie/album-earthling.jpg this kind of sums up my mental image. So me being me, I showed her that and we came to the conclusion she must have been watching some pre-recorded old interview on sky tv, which she was.

Shame, there was a millisecond where I was really excited.

Guitar

So, I think it was about three weeks ago on a Tuesday night that I got the sudden, overwhelming urge to play my guitar. For the past I don't know when, probably two years, my guitar has sat largely untouched either in a corner of my room, or, recently, at my dad's house. I still have no idea what made me suddenly want to play it so badly; when I came to university I'd brought it with me, but I had little or no urge to even get it out of the case to tune it. But something on that Tuesday night nagged and nagged until I couldn't bear it any longer and fired off an email to dad asking if he could bring it round. Joyously, I got a hold of it that evening and almost immediately afterwards, tuned it (wow, how sad to hear the state it'd gotten into) and played it for about three hours solid until the ends of my fingers were numb.

Now, last year at number 13 I did try to kick myself into picking it up again by purchasing and fitting a new set of strings, so the ones that are on it are 'new' and never really got played in. I feel I should get my money's worth by wearing them at least a little before I swap them for the shiny new set I bought the other week but

1.) Having been left for so long, they'll be crummy anyway. So that's £10 down the drain :]
2.) Looking at my guitar, I've done a really bad job of restringing it. Playing a G chord sets the strings buzzing like nobodies business.

So it's probably better to just restring it anyway. At least I know that the new strings will get played in properly this time. Also, in absence of any new classical music I've been (gasp) using a plectrum. I grew my nails like a good girl ready for some good finger picking but the other day I picked up some plectrums along with my strings and idk, I really like using one. It's hard though, I never was able to play using a plectrum and to some extent I used to frown on people who did. But I'm getting there. I'm a little worried that my normal technique will go down the pan so I should probably play using both styles so that I grow rather than go backwards, if that makes any sense.

Where are all of these hours going? One thing I hated about myself when I played the guitar for the ensemble and in concerts, was how arrogant it made me. I'll admit it - I knew that I wasn't the best out there and I did honestly think I was on the same level as the other players in the group, but at the same time I was always keen to point out what was wrong with the performance yada yada. I hated how critical I was. Thus, I think it's safe to say that for now I'm just going to shut myself in my room and play by myself without any focus or agenda, so that nobody has to be subjected to me. I can't say how long my housemates are going to endure the same chords over and over though - nobody at university ever knew me as 'a guitarist' even though they knew I played, they never knew that I played.

New look, new leaf

Alright, so I've been neglecting this blog horribly, attempted to start again with LJ, never posted a single entry into it. So I'll come back here and start documenting my life again. TBH, there's too much to write down all in one post and I need a pee but let's just summarise by saying I'm single, I'm bored and jaded with my university course, I'm not sure if I'm mentally stable but on the plus side I've never been happier and freer, and I picked up my guitar for the first time in two years a few weeks ago and play for about four hours on average every night. My house mates must be so sick of hearing me mash out the same old chords, but I guess they never knew I loved the guitar so much :)

In the words of one of my favourite characters, Otis;

Tschüß and all that
xxx

I have done 57 stupid things

Level 1.
[X] Said LOL out loud. (ur, I do this all the time)
[X] Forgotten your own age.
[X] Tried to lick your elbow.
Total so far: 3

Level 2.
[] Said the wrong name in bed.
[] Had unprotected sex.
[] Hurt yourself sexing.
[] Sexed yourself hurting.
Total so far: 3

Level 3.
[X] Licked your toe.
[] Licked a frozen pole.
[] Licked a dog bone.
[] Licked a dog.
Total so far: 4

Level 4.
[X] Drank old milk. (urgh, there was a period I did this every morning)
[] Drank milk right from a cow.
[] Ever thought chocolate milk came from brown cows.
[] Drank Qwik right from the brown cow.
[] Pushed a cow over.
Total so far: 5

Level 5.
[] Eaten bugs.
[] Eaten garbage.
[X] Eaten food off the floor after five seconds. (NOM NOM NOM)
[X] Eaten a booger. (:B)
Total so far: 7

Level 6.
[] Been in a five-seater car with more than seven people.
[] Been in a seven-seater van with over twelve people.
[] Driven in a seven-seater van by yourself.
[] Driven a tricycle past the age of three.
[] Driven yourself to the wrong house.
Total so far: 7

Level 7.
[] Put dirty dishes in the fridge.
[] Put bowls of food in the dishwasher.
[x] Put a full glass of juice in the cupboard.
[] Put salt in your coffee.
[] Dropped the cap into the glass you were drinking from.
Total so far: 8

Level 8.
[] Jumped over a car.
[x] Jumped out of a moving car.
[] Jumped into a thorny bush on purpose.
[] Jumped off a bridge.
[] Jumped off your house.
Total so far: 9

Level 9.
[] Forgotten where you live.
[] Forgotten your own birthday.
[x] Forgotten to zip up in the morning. (lmao xD)
Total so far: 10

Level 10.
[x] Walked into a pole.
[x] Walked into a wall.
[x] Walked into someone.
[] Walked into a parked car.
Total so far: 13

Level 11.
[] Won a burping contest.
[] Burped the alphabet.
[x] Burped just to break the silence.
[x] Burped too hard and thrown up. (Yeah x.x
Total so far: 15

Level 12.
[x] Eaten a whole bag of chips.
[] Eaten a whole pint of ice cream in one night.
[x] Eaten a whole pizza so no one else could have a slice.
Total so far: 17

Level 13.
[x] Been caught picking your nose.
[x] Been caught going to the bathroom outside.
[] Been caught with your pants down.
[] Been caught having sex. (thank god !D: )
[] Been caught sexing yourself.
Total so far: 19

Level 14.
[] Shoved something up your nose.
[x] Picked your nose and studied what came out.
[] Picked your nose till it bled.
[] Let your nose bleed to see the awesome blood all over you.
[x] Blew your nose so goddamn hard your whole body hurt.
Total so far: 21

Level 15.
[x] Told a lie.
[x] Been caught in a lie.
[x] Lied to cover a lie.
[x] Lied to cover your ass.
[] Lied to an undercover hooker cop.
Total so far: 25 (wow, I'm a cheating little slytherin)

Level 16.
[x] Laughed at someone in pain. (other people's misfortune is my glee)
[x] Laughed too loud and embarrassed yourself. (yeah.)
[] Laughed at a funeral.
[] Laughed so hard you pissed yourself. (no, only fodi does that)
Total so far: 27

Level 17.
[x] Written a letter to Santa Claus.
[] Believed in Santa past the age of eight.
[] Believed your folks when they said that a bunny laid chocolate eggs in the house.
[] Believed you were NEVER too old for trick-or-treating. (never went)
Total so far: 28

Level 18.
[] Thrown a party for yourself.
[] Thrown a ball at yourself.
[] Thrown up on yourself.
[] Thrown a ball at a wall that returned directly to your crotch.
[x] Thrown a super ball in the house and taken it right in the face.
Total so far: 29

Level 19.
[x] Pretended to know what you're doing.
[x] Pretended you were hot shit.
[x] Pretended you weren't listening.
[] Pretended you were Spider-Man. (no but I've pretended I was other superheros e_e ... aside from that HOW DO I SHOT WEB!?)
Total so far: 32

Level 20.
[x] Fell on the sidewalk.
[x] Fell down the stairs. (fucking hurts.)
[x] Fell UP the stairs. (doesn't hurt as much)
[] Went sledding down the stairs.
Total so far: 35

Level 21.
[x] Tried to do a really cool back flip...
[x] And busted your ass. (actually I kneed myself in the eye xD)
[x] Tried to do a really cool cartwheel...
[x] And didn't lift your feet, retard. (|: I was a retarded child)
Total so far: 39

Level 22.
[] Eaten food that you just kind of... found.
[] Eaten the mystery food in the back of the fridge.
[] Eaten something nasty to get a laugh.
[x] Cried when no one laughed.
Total so far: 40

Level 23.
[x] Cried when you hurt yourself.
[x] Cried when you didn't get your way.
[x] Cried over spilled milk.
[] Cried after sex.
Total so far: 43

Level 24.
[] Gone swimming naked.
[] Gone swimming in a stranger's pool.
[] Gone swimming with a hose in the yard.
[] Gone swimming in a stank-ass pond.
[x] Gone swimming in the bathtub like a champ. (8D)
Total so far: 44

Level 25.
[x] Ridden a pony.
[x] Ridden a donkey.
[] Ridden a lawnmower pretending it was an awesome racecar.
[] Ridden a shovel pretending it was an awesome spaceship.
[] Ridden the dog.
Total so far: 46

Level 26.
[x] Locked yourself out of your house.
[] Locked yourself out of your car.
[x] Locked yourself IN the car.
[x] Trapped yourself in a child's plastic house.
[x] Tangled yourself up in a rope.
[] Tangled yourself up in a hose.
[] Locked yourself in the trunk WITH the keys.
Total so far: 50

Level 27.
[] Overcooked a fancy meal.
[] Overcooked Easy MAC.
[] Overcooked a Pop-Tart.
[] Overcooked a tiny plastic army man.
[x] Overcooked yourself at the beach. (English :B need I say more ...)
Total so far: 51

Level 28.
[x] Bitten plastic fruit.
[x] Bitten into something too hard and hurt your teeth.
[x] Bitten down before you got the fork into your mouth.
[x] Lifted an empty soda you thought was full, thereby flinging it.
[x] Overcompensated an extra step in the stairs that wasn't there. (I do this every time I go downstairs in the dark, it's developed into this complex i have)
Total so far: 56

Level 29.
[] Mistaken a stranger for a family member and blabbed at them.
[x] Mistaken a man for a woman or vice-versa.
[] Shaved your eyebrows.
[] Poked yourself in the eye with safety goggles! Sweet irony.

Total: 57

Shamelessly stolen

from Dad's blog, but all the same this is an amazing meme;

The Rules:
a. Type your answer to each of the questions into Flickr Search.
b. Using only the first page, pick an image.
c. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd's mosaic maker).

1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favourite food?
3. What high school did you go to?
4. What is your favourite colour?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. Favourite drink?
7. Dream vacation?
8. Favourite dessert?
9. What you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. One Word to describe you.
12. Your flickr name. (or just your own name if you've not got a flickr account)



1. Natalie and Joe, 2. Very Berry Sunday, 3. HDR West Nab 2, 4. The Grotto, 5. Peace for Florida, 6. tea, 7. Whales at Eden., 8. Velvet Chocolate Cake with Prunes Soaked in Earl Grey Tea, 9. Black and White, 10. inspiration..., 11. false hope, 12. Sloth

Broken

Yes, broken. Mum's ankle this is.

Returning home on Sunday, Blythe and I settled into the typical 'lets mill about before going to bed'. Got the usual phone call from mum and then a few hours later she called again - telling us she wouldn't be coming home tonight because she'd hurt her ankle.

Well, Blythe answered the phone and was kind of annoyed with her, which was kind of bad I suppose in retrospect. Me being the quiet one just bunkered down and told her she should be kinder and more sympathetic to someone when they got hurt. And yes, nobody likes the person who says 'I told you so', but I do it anyway.

A trip to the hospital and several hours later it turns out the ankle mum believed to be sprained was actually badly broken, and what's more her leg was broken too. At this point I know what you're all thinking on how she did it; in the course of a few days it went to 'I vaulted over a wall' to 'I lowered myself carefully down from the fence'

So now I don't know what to think. But anyway, it's broken. After a few days in hospital including surgery she was deemed good enough on the crutches to come home. Now I'm looking after her. Honestly a job I don't mind doing, but at the same time I feel myself growing frustrated when people give me looks that let me know they think I can't cope. Can't drive, can't cook, can't do this, can't do that. Well screw you assholes. I'm coping just -fine-.

one thing that is guaranteed to get up my nose is when people think I'm incapable.

I don't mind toiling away unappreciated, I can cope with pretty much anything life throws. I'll find a way to cope. One thing I absolutely cannot stand is when people insult my intelligence and assume I can't do something. At least let me try first before you judge.

Sorry, this is turning into a rant, but really.

I was lain in bed last night feeling guilty because I'd been short with people. I know I'm selfish, lazy, greedy... and I was thinking - I suppose this makes me a bad person. Do people see me as a bad person? Do they 'put up with me' because I'm family/supposed friend?

Is this why I don't have that many friends?

I guess I'm just broken.

Playing Catchup

Well, I promised myself I wouldn't post in here until I finished the massive blog post I had done for Greece. In retrospect that was a stupid thing to do, because I grew bored of writing that and I've stopped writing in here. Silly me.

A lot has happened since; namely little things that I will try to remember here. In my mind, four things stick out as me remembering at the time 'oh yeah, I should really blog about this' so here goes;

1.) Chris left
Yes, despite my warnings to at least be a little more careful about where he stored his weed, Chris has indeed been kicked out of Allen Hall. He was really bitter about it, and everyone was sad to see him go since he was well liked, but it was his own fault. I had no qualms about him smoking, it's his funeral after all, but choosing to smoke it inside when he'd already been caught twice was stupid. I still see him from time to time, but whatever. I had few friends in halls anyway, so it really makes little difference he is no longer here.


2.) I got lost on a bus
Sounds like an amazing story, and you may skip to number three if you should so desire. Anyway, after a meeting concerning my Greece project writeup, I decided to go into town for some clothes. So, waiting at the bus stop, I caught the 142; the guaranteed direct route into Piccadilly Gardens. At least, this was what I thought - I'd caught this bus into town a multitude of times and it had always gone the same way. Except for today.
As it headed towards the library, it suddenly veered off down this side road I'd never seen before, and stopped at a stop where everyone began to get off. I wasn't too worried at this point, because we weren't that far away from my destination, and I figured the bus would carry on straight and turn back up into Piccadilly. Wrong.
As the bus continued I had this horrible feeling that I was getting further and further away from the centre of Manchester. Yet I still believed, even at that point, that we were going to wind up going full circle. I think perhaps the lack of people being picked up along the way might have given me a clue as to our real destination.
The Depot.
Figuring that the bus driver probably hadn't seen me since he would have told me to get off at what had been the last stop, I pretended I had 'fallen asleep' and I got a free ride back. I was lucky in that respect, but not lucky in that I'd wasted 45 minutes exploring the depths of Chorlton while doing it. Ah well.


3.) The Snip
Yep. Been thinking about this for quite some time, tomorrow is when I get the 'snip'. (No, not -that- snip you fools.). I'm getting my hair cut. Short. Very short. Think Natalie Portman short. (: it's going to be wicked.

4.) Doctor Who
Yes, after the agonising wait, the series has finally come back. Same Doctor, new (and for the most part annoying) companion Donna. And while I'm happy to see it back, there are a couple of things that really grate every time I watch it.
- David Tennant. He'd have to be number one on my list, because I have no idea why he's suddenly doing the pirahna teeth and the manic eyes all the time. It's like he's been posessed by the same thing that got Rose in the (new) series 2. I mean, I think so far he's been a pretty good Doctor as Doctor's go, but what happened in this series I do not know. I'll be sad to see him (eventually) leave the franchise as I am with all the Doctors, or indeed Time Lords. Even so I'll welcome the change so long as they get someone completely different into the role. Unfortunately I can see them casting someone similar to Tennant (as in, personality wise), and that'll really annoy the heck out of me. New Doctor, New face, New personality. Please.
- The new theme tune. Don't like it much. It's kind of cool, but the random electric guitar riff? WTF.
- Donna. Oh I'm so on the edge with this one. Even moreso than Maaartaah. See, I liked Martah in the beginning, but then I disliked her. So far with Donna it's been Like, Dislike, Unsure, Like (as far as the episodes go). She's funny, which makes a change from a female fawning over the Doctor (which annoys the hell out of me). But she's also shouty (it gets boring). I like her compassion, but I don't like her accent. Why is it that so far, all the new series companions (bar Cpt.Jack, which is probably one reason I like him as a character), have had London accents? Hellooo England does not revolve around London! Get a companion from 'up north please :(

Aah they do say 'who fans complain about things an awful lot, always never quite happy with what they've been given. Last week's episode was the best so far, with the others being a little substandard. What do I know, I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy the series finale.

2 years

Happy 2 years Finn ^^ xXxXxXx

Letter Meme - the Letter T

This was given to me by my dad; I have to tell you ten things I love that begin with the letter T, they'll be in no particular order since I am thinking these up on the spot.


1.) Tea
Yes, well. I am British.
Tea is such a good, all round drink. It's comforting when you come in from a horrible day, demonstrates your thoughtfulness when consoling a friend or family member, warming when the heating doesn't work, refreshing drunk cold with lemon. It's lovely with a piece of cake, or a few biscuits, or even great brewed strong with lots of sugar and milk. The smell of tea leaves has to be one of my favourite smells of all time. I drink my tea in many different ways depending on my mood - I know pretty much everyone else has one particular style they take their tea, and will swear by it. I guess that's why I'm so difficult to make tea for :D

2.) Thirteen
Unlucky for some, thirteen is an interesting number for me. It happens to be the number of my first house (rented, but still, my first house!) and I'm wholly looking forward to living there next year with three of my closest friends from Uni; Cat, Andrew and Karen.

The hamster will have to go though.

3.) Thinking
I love thinking, I just wish the internet didn't dull my brain so much. It's true, I can feel it turning my mind into a vegetable whenever I'm not on it. Perhaps I should cut down.
I do an awful lot of thinking, perhaps disproportionately to the amount of living but I think it's an important process to go through before undertaking any action. Making a phonecall? I like to have the conversation rehearsed a good five or six times in my mind before I dial.
Thinking isn't just limited to every day stuff. I also find myself wondering about everything I see; why is that like this, how is this managing to do that. Sometimes I wish some people would stop and think before opening their mouths. Less words would be wasted that way, and the world would be a better place.

4.) T'internet

Total cheat, but how could I not include this? Like most young people of my generation, I love the internet, much to the dispair of my parents (or perhaps just one, I don't know). The majority of my free time is spent on the internet, browsing, socialising, playing games, running communities. The only thing I find frustrating about the internet is the fact that you can't trust what you read on it. Otherwise it would be an absolute goldmine of information.

5.) Thankyou
This just refers to compliments in general. I love giving people compliments and thanking them, and making them feel appreciated. I once heard that it takes someone seven compliments to get over an insult. Gosh - and by the rate compliments are dished out (I mean, genuine, well thought out compliments), no wonder everyone walks around with a frown on their face, or has such a negative self-image of themselves. Making people feel like they're worth something is one of the most important things you can do - I think if more young people were appreciated by their parents, peers, teachers etc, we wouldn't be seeing such high suicide rates.

6.) Trinkets
I'm a total hoarder. I get attatched to inanimate objects and I don't like change. What can I say? I'm a Capricorn - I have a love of material items as petty as that sounds. A pretty necklace, a new candle or incense burner, a new plant to add to my collection. Little gifts that were bought with an idea as to how they compliment my personality I adore; it tells me people listen to what I say and know me. They don't have to be expensive, either.

7.) Trees
Argh. I almost forgot to include this. Yes, I'm a complete hippy - I love trees. And not all this 'global warming CO2 footprint, carbon negative plant more trees' rubbish.
I'm not a big fan of plants, and I have little respect for botanists. For one, plants don't do much, they sit there an photosynthesise, respire, pump ion...s (haha), and grow. Occasionally reproduce. Ok, well they live, but they're no as interesting to me, as animals. But trees are like the whales of the plant family, especially those that live in the rainforests and grow to 60m tall and 10m wide. Christ, you have to have some respect for an organism that big. I mean, some of them live to over 4000 years old. That's older than Christianity. :B

'sides, if you're feeling lonely, and nobody is around, give one a hug. They're surprisingly fun to hug. Woods are awesome places to walk, too.

8.) Thumb
mmm, my left thumb is looking rather appealing as I write this. (Joking). I used to suck my thumb, avidly. All the time. When my parents left the room, in it would go. At bedtime, in it would go. Even when my dear old Grandad told me that if I kept on doing it, I would suck it away, I continued (although, I would take it out occasionally and measure it against my right to make sure it wasn't shrinking). Braces were what eventually persuaded me to stop, and since then it hasn't gone back in.

9.) Tickling
As much as I protest, I love being tickled. Ribs, knees, armpits. I'm pretty much ticklish everywhere, and there isn't something more fun than being tickled. It's a shame people think I'm too old for that kind of behaviour now.

10.) Toast
Toast is another thing that goes well with tea, but unlike tea, I have to have mine in particular ways. I usually have my toast with just butter on it, but the butter has to be melted. If I have marmalade, it has to be a thin scraping with copious amounts of butter. If I have marmite, the marmite again, has to be a thin scraping. There's nothing much else I like on toast, aside from the occasional spreading of peanut butter. In general, I love toast.

Sir David.

The MAN.

I went to the Trafford Centre today as Sir. David Attenborough was doing book signings of his latest book - "Life in Cold Blood"

This of course is his last series, so basically he's done it all. I have to admit that his programmes have always been one of the highlights of both my TV viewings and of my knowledge on the animal (and plant) world. I suppose his series over the years have made me go off and read more about some of the more obscure animals out there, and I'm pretty certain had it not been for him I would not know as much about animals as I do today. I probably wouldn't be studying zoology, either.

We went to the Trafford Centre straight after our 1.00 lecture. He was due for the signings between 6pm and 7.30pm, so we knew we were in for a long wait. We didn't mind though; this was David Attenborough after all - as I put it, he is the God of Zoology.

So we fell into the queue. Some of the group had got there before us and were in the little roped off area. We got shunted to wait up a flight of stairs, but as the queue grew we were glad we came as early as we did; it was MASSIVE.

The wait didn't feel long, and the only hitch came when we were informed we had to have a reciept of purchase with us to get the book signed. Bummer - most of us had gotten them for xmas, and therefore didn't have their little 'reciepts'. So deciding to foil there stupid money making scheme we went and bought books just to get reciepts, but we're all returning them over the next couple of days =]

I spotted Sir.David going to sit down first, and sort of made this small squeal to alert the rest of the crew, for the next twenty minutes or so gawking at him. I kind of feel sorry for the man, being so old I can't imagine he has much energy left, and to have all these people bothering him must be exhausting. Still, it's his fault for being so awesome.

Finally, it was our turn. While we all went up individually to get a signing, we had asked to get a group photo done at the end. Anyway, I handed him my book. The conversation wasn't much, but to be honest I was more in awe of just who I was standing next to. It went something like this;

"Hi!"
"Hello Natalie, how are you?" (I had a tag in my book with my name on - WHS policy)
"Very excited to meet you."
"Good. Here you are."

And then he gave me a really genuine look with a smile.

"Thankyou very much."

And then we took the group photo. I'm sure all photos will appear on Facebook sooner or later. (:

Girl Gamer

I was reading a thread on a gaming forum today, and I came across the following quotes:

"Girls only game because they want to attract guys"

"they're always 'hit too many branches on the way down from the tree of life' types. Either that or they're the 'younger generation' i.e. twelve year olds"

"They only play 'final fantasy' or 'kingdom hearts'."

"Playing one game does not a gamer make."

Um... excuse me?

Ok, perhaps I'm a little defensive. Of all the girl gamers I know... which is.... five, four of them only play final fantasy, kingdom hearts, and occasionally games with 'hot anime guys' in them. (I.e. Soul Calibur because of *swoon* Sigfried). Or at least, those are the only games they talk about, and more to the point they're the only games they seem to think exist.

Oh... they play the Sims I guess.

Trying to strike up a conversation with them about any games always results in them drifting off into swathes of

'ooooh Cloud! oooh Sephiroth'

And people can't understand why I hate final fantasy...

Anyway, I'm drifting off topic a little. I also want to make the point that I continued reading that thread, hoping that someone would come to our defence and put forward that there are some of us who aren't complete ogers... but nobody did.

I began thinking - am I the only girl who plays stuff like AoE?

Alright, I'm not great at many 'boy games' such as FPS's, Finn laughs at me when I play because I spend ages hiding around corners, then freak out when my sneaky plan is ruined and some dude chucks a grenade down at me. But I have good aim... I play a good Stranger's Wrath ... perhaps it's because I'm not very experienced at playing the sorts of games Finn does... idk D: FPS's are fun, but they scare me.

Racing games are... boring for me. I can get quite good with practice, but pretty soon the track just becomes a series of knowing the little shortcuts and knowing where to get the boost/powerup or slide this way etc etc... very tedious when the competition's not very good.

Ok, I absolutely love Age of Empires and games like it. I always have; games like that (the acronym doesn't spring to mind right now) are really satisfying to play.

I love building little towns ok? :c

I also love Platformers, Beat 'em ups and of course, RPG's (excluding anything remotely 'anime' urgh...). Ok well I was sort of a fan of Phantasy Star... Phan? :V

So am I an anomaly to the general consensus? I certainly don't play games to 'attract guys'. I've been gaming all my life, I don't tell people I game because they might shun me, and ok... I have my 'ugly' days as any girl would, but I'm not a complete troll... am I?