What I was going to do

I was going to write to you today about clothes, my ill fitting jeans and sporty new trainers that I plan to 'go running' in or 'play badminton' while wearing.

Except that was hella boring.

In fact, today is pretty boring. I'm in work between Christmas and New Year (for the first time ever - sob!). There are only 2 other people in the office with me (normally 20+) and I have no work to do so I have been surfing Etsy for things to buy. I spent £60 I do not have on stuff I hardly need yesterday and am trying to resist doing the same again today out of boredom.

To keep me from spending for something to frickin do my afternoon plans include;
1) solve a game of Spider solitaire with two suits! It's exciting because I've never done it before! Or maybe it's exciting because I have a totally skewed idea of what exciting is since I have been talking to myself all morning.
2) play Spider solitaire a second time
3) maybe have a game of minesweepers

In other news - new dog new dog!
My parents got a new dog last week, he is completely daft, really bouncy (yesterday he tried to fetch his toy by climbing over the back of the sofa) and cute as frankenpup. 19months old, called Bob.

Cockknobs

I forgot to write the editors letter for Subtext AGAIN. I am about 2 years over the deadline.
Tomorrow.
I'll do it tomorrow, promise.

Eternally inappropriate

I work with a chap who's eternally inappropriate. He seems to have no ideas that what he says is just, well, not quite on.

For example, today we were in a meeting discussing options for raising some money by asking companies to match fund a project. I know the managers of both of the specific companies being considered. This apparently made me blush.
I am one of those blushing people. It's a curse.

Anyway, in response to said blush Mr Eternally Inappropriate said,
"Why are you blushing? Are you having an affair with someone who works there?"

!!

As it so happens I am in a l/t relationship with someone who works there, but that is not the issue.

This'll sort what ails ya

My partner has been suffering with some kind of panic disorder, leaving him feeling spaced out, unsure of what is real and struggling to cope at work and in social situations.

When we finally persuaded him to see a doctor about it, and after blood tests and a couple of consutations in which he spoke about his anxiety, the doctor prescribed him a book!

He's ordered it from the library, apparently he can keep it for 8 weeks.
I love that.

In other news, I've lost my voice.

Faceblast-from-the-past

I freely admit to having a Facebook account. When people probe, ask me directly or search for my name.

Thing is, Facebook is awful.
I has no point.
It's full of ick little widgets that I don't know how to work.

I am one of those people who escaped her past. I wasn't that it was terrible, but there are a few things I would rather forget. And a few people I thought I had.

This will sounds awful, and maybe it is, but I don't want them to find me. Logging on I view my friend requests with trepidation. Sure, it's nice to find people want to be your online buddy, but what to do if you don't really feel the need to be theirs?

I hate snubbing. I don't want to ignore people. That's mean and I wouldn't like it to be done to me. But I don't really want to chit chat about long past events with people I have nothing in common with anymore and probably never did.

Maybe I'll change to a fake name, can you do that?

Do you dare me?

Ok, potential hilarity / self destruction.
They're casting for the new series of Britain's next top model at the mo'. Prime opportunity to uncover the bitchyness, soul sucking, shallow, stereotypes I envisage will be part of the selection process, for Subtext.

So, who dares me to apply? (here's the form, complete with dodgy questions)
Beware, a swimsuit shot is required.

It is quite likely I am too old and too 'interesting looking' (that's just a nice way of saying ugly isn't it - I bet that's what they put on the rejection letters) to get through the first selection.

I would recount the horrors online for you all.

Maybe I'll just complete a piss take form for a laugh.

Meeting the standard

If tackling gendered violence (eg domestic violence against women) was treated with the same seriousness as racist violence or homophobic violence this story and many like it would not pass by as sideline news. Proper training would be given to police officers. We would have effective legislation.

The police receive one domestic violence call every minute in the UK, despite less than half of all incidents of domestic violence being reported to the police. Women’s
Aid

46% of all female homicide victims (compared with 5% of male homicide victims), were killed by current or former partners in 2001/02. Women’s Aid

On average, two women a week are killed by a current or former male partner. Home Office

Summarising the confusing

Ah, I am trying to write the news section of the magazine. I have been for about 2 weeks already (I hunt for and save relevant news stories for months prior to writing).

I find it one of the hardest things to do - finding relevant news and news that's not been widely reported and re write it in a super short tit bit style.

It's no wonder no one else has volunteered to do the job :o)

Chemical concoction

Or, to be more accurate, hormonal concoction.

Yesterday I went to the ‘contraception and sexual health clinic’. They’ve renamed it. It used to be the Family Planning clinic, but I guess that’s not entirely accurate, because a lot of us women go there to prevent families from happening.

Whoever thought up it’s current name has no sympathy for those of us who only ever remember to make appointments during work hours, from our desks.

So I was off to the ‘Thursday night’ clinic. My colleagues do not need to know about by sexual health. I guess somehow I think you do though…

Anywho.
I’ve been getting the most persistent and recurring headaches for about a year. Recently they’ve intensified to daily. It is misery.

When asked if my ‘medical history’ had changed I dutifully told my nurse/health person yes it had and I was going to see a neurologist about my headaches.

Turns out, it could be the pill. Everything is the fucking pill. Depression, mood swings, no libido; all the pill’s fault.

(I have decided the pill is an evil stealth device. On the surface it ‘liberates’ women, removing the threat of pregnancy from their sexual relationships. Underneath this attractive pretence it’s side effects include keeping women in their place, keeping the down, and keeping them out of the bedroom – the reason they’re on the pill in the first place.)

So, I have changed pill again. I’m progesterone only now don’t y’know.
And guess what? So far it feels fucking great.

I have had hardly any headache today. I feel full of wild energy, which is something I have hella missed since swapping pills last time (pill before last gave me mad mood swings, I missed the manic bit) and I am totally hot with two t’s.

It’s Friday. I am oestrogen lite. Let’s party.

Something to do with your old lightbulbs

when you replace them all with energy saving ones.

The site's in foreign (I don't recognise the language since I only speak English, pigeon French and the language of love - haha!) but the pics are pretty sweet.