Sunday, 3 January 2010

News and more poems

I don't exactly know what I did to New Year to make it hate me so much, but it must have been something really bad. I feel like one of those dense boys (sorry - I mean 'one of those boys'... that sentence was a bit of a tautology) (ho ho, of course I'm only joking) (...or am I?) to whom one has to say, 'if you don't know why I'm annoyed with you, there's no point telling you.' (not that I'D ever use such manipulative speak, for I am pure and perfect, ha ha ha) Oh, New Year! What did I do to you? I love celebrations and reasons to be cheerful (one, two, three) and to have big parties and generally behave like it's 1999. I'm the first to wag my finger when curmudgeonly scrooge-like types whine about Christmas or birthdays or Hallowe'en or Valentine's Day. Come on, people, life is dismal and grubby and muddy and drudgery-fuelled enough... let's grab at least a little of fun before reality comes crashing back in and ruins it all, please!

So you'd think me and New Year would be best of friends, right? WRONG! I won't bore you with the exact all the details of the past seven New Years cos we'd be here til next New Year, and that would ruin my plans to dig a basement under my house and hide in it, but the highlights include a beloved pet dying, my so-called boyfriend not wanting to be with me after I'd only three weeks hence given a kidney away, having to DJ alone to a really scary crowd with not one of my friends there to support me (aside from the lovely Ben. Who was working there.), thinking I was gonna actually die after having nostrils bigger than my stomach and so on and so forth.

This year was probably the second best new year in the past 7, I estimate (it should be pointed out that I had a small and select party at my house about 4 years ago which was LOVELY), as all that happened was I went to a really expensive squat party that got closed down by the police in less minutes than the amount of pounds I had paid to get in there, travelled to a friend's house party, developed a blinding headache and nasty bout of nausea on the way there, spent about 6 hours lying very still trying not to puke or hear anything, and then went home alone cos my (then) fella was having too much fun to leave with me. Well, I exaggerate, I didn't actually go anywhere alone, thank Christ, as I probably would have topped myself if I'd've had to, as my lovely friends Millena and Michael saved me by taking pity on me and allowing me to go to theirs to be looked after while I watched my more, neglected, silent phone and wondered exactly what it is about me that inspires my various boyfriends to not want to come anywhere near me at new year.

Maybe New Year itself got together with them my boyfriends, past, present and future, and told THEM whatever awful thing it was I did to it, which it won't tell me, and they're so disgusted with me they don't want anything to do with me either? (Did I cheat on New Year? Kill its favourite puppy? Steal its shoes? Spell it wrong one year? Is it jealous that I like Christmas more? What could I have possible done???) That actually makes the most sense of all the theories I thought of so far! In that case, New Year, please, just tell me how to make it right! And I swear I'll do my best to comply... (points to whoever recognises THAT reference...)

And now, for the second time in two years, I find myself having broken up with someone in the first week of the year. Maybe in 2011 I can make it a hat-trick? I have asked that my two best friends pick my next boyfriend, should I ever be unlucky enough to want another one, since I keep making such a fucking hash of it.

But anyway. As well as having the good old fucking moan I didn't want to put on Face Ache or my bulletin board for fear of offending any of the above parties, I re-read my last blog and was reminded that there was some positive stuff going on in this old thing we call life as well... mainly that, since I am a skint student, I ended up giving a lot of home-made presents this year. These consisted of poems that I wrote for my friends and put in frames with pictures of them to show them I love them. You may all puke now. I hate people who force their poetry on others unasked, but since I'm not forcing any of you to read this, feel free to stop reading now, I won't be offended. I'm quite pleased with some of these poems, though, so I'll put a few up here from time to time in case anyone else in interested.

Meanwhile - happy January 3rd onwards - and New Year - GO FUCK YOURSELF!!!! (heh... that's probably not gonna make it like me any better next year, is it? Oh well, I intend to be asleep with an empty bottle of gin at the end of the bed when the chimes go off on Dec 31 2010, so who cares any more?)

Right - ART!!!!

These two are probably my favourites, so let's start with them and then, like life, the rest can slowly but surely let you down. winky face.

James and Johanna Take a Journey

In the beginning, we were friends.
You showed me things I didn't understand.
You showed me how to move my hands in planes,
and how to twist from front to back and round again.
And then a smaller you kept turning up at
times. Advising me on this and that,
and holding my head high.

And liquor.
There was liquor.
White hot, and dangerous,
we slid down in together, hand in hand,
down we splashed, quicker and then quicker.
Towards somersaults and sound systems,
towards the sunset.

And then we were lovers.
You were the sun and the moon and the stars.
And I was a satellite, orbiting around you,
at my luck.
And we played, and laughed,
and watched and dreamt and loved,
and talked and talked and talked.
(and then there were those parts that we

And now we are friends again.
You still show me things that I don't understand.
You fill my heart so full that I am scared
that it will
And still we laugh and talk and talk,
and then we talk some more,
through the movements of the moon and the sun and the stars.
And I know that we'll have laughter
(and liquor)
until we are no more.


We used to dart looks at each other
from the other side of the room
with eyes that were scared to see.
You were the girl I most wanted to be.
Your ink,
Your clothes,
Your air,
Your body.

It took us a while
to dance round each other
to relax and let coyness go.
Time fell away and I started to know
Your laugh
Your heart
Your gifts
Your glow.

Now we sit squished, upside-down,
arm in arm, feet entwined,
jumbled on the same seat.
And still I lust after your smile,
your soul,
your style
your whole,
You're the girl that I most want to be.

I'll put some more up later. Apologies to the people I didn't make them for. I wanted to make them for everyone, but alas I am only human and I ran out of time. They'll probably be birthday presents for everyone forever more as I don't think I'll ever actually have any real money ever again.

Also to Pootle and Polly - thanks for the advice re the last blog. One day I'll be grown up enough to take it on board. For now, staying angry is easier. How else will I know I'm alive? I'm gonna have to just not go on that holiday, sadly. Three ex-boyfriends is surely too much for any one girl to deal with. Man, do I make myself look good. ;-)


  1. Gah.... I typed this a little tipsy and there's loads of typos, and I can't work out how to edit them out. Horrible grammar/mis-word use probably IS why New Year hates me. And that's no more than I deserve. *hangs head in shame*

  2. Oh dear! I'm sure it's not so bad... Let's make it better this year - and in the meantime there's a whole load of year to go and get!!

    Good luck - it can only get better!!

    Love xx

  3. I like the poems - you've got a gift for language.