Tuesday.

weight off my mind

For those of you supporting me :)

I will be back after these short messages.

BLOGTASTIC!!!

So after a fantastic telephone call I just had with my mum. I have felt inspired and motivated to change some shit in my life.

You might remember me blogging a while aback about getting my mojo back I referred to it as putting my self puzzle back together and I had a piece missing. Anyway the piece I put in my puzzle was maybe the wrong piece. I have found a comfort in some things that have caused weight gain and this in turn as caused me to feel utterly shit about me. Not many people will understand this feeling but some of you might know exactly what I am chatting. I am avoiding all mirrors as I know I have gained and it pisses me off that I have.

I feel better once I have spoke about a problem I have. I feel better once I have let the issue out into the world, here or talking to friends and family. So there probably is a psychological reference to what I just said and what I am about to say but I am not going to mangle my grove to analyse my behaviour right now.

Anyway to the point! I have felt that blogging has helped me find myself a little bit. It helps me have an outlet and turn my thoughts in to something a bit more solid. Once my stupid stories or thoughts are out of my head I feel better. It feels like I have a way of looking at my own actions and admitting things I might choose to ignore. My therapy blog perhaps. That might feel incredibly sad to some but others might totally understand the freedom a blog can bring.

So I have decided the diet starts now (well around 2 hours ago) not tomorrow, not next week, not next month, not next year… NOW. So I am starting a new weight blog. I will be posting my fat pictures (yummy), my weight and feelings as I will be ever decreasing in size. This is not for everyone I understand. Some people might not give a flying fuck. But this is about me and what works for me. There is a sense of acceptance by making something public. So while I understand some people may think this shit should remain private. I feel my journey will be interesting and funny so I do hope that those of you who feel that you can and want to support me or join my weight loss journey please add my new blog to your favourites!

MY NEW BLOG CLICK HERE

For the rest of you I will continue to blog my psychology journey of life, my harsh life lessons, the drama, the funny moments and my over increasing fuck ups. All for your continued entertainment.

Thank you to all the people in my life (real and virtual) fellow bloggers that have inspired me to be a better more creative writer. For my family and friends that help me see who I am and what I want to achieve. I feel pretty positive about my new path.

Thank you

MELIDIOT RULES

I am going to go out on a limb here and assume that I am not the only parent that makes rules for their children. Only to then find out a second too late that they have just broken their own rule. I could fluff it over with something like, ‘The rules for adults are not the same as the rules for the kids.’ (So ner) OR, ‘Do as I say not as I do.’ (Pokes out tongue) I found myself in a pickle at the early hours of this morning. That would not have come about if I had taken the rules I constantly nag my children to abide. Readers will know I have no problem sharing my inappropriate life lessons, happenings and such. Be it utter bollocks or not I will share this with you.

I insist that my children turn the light on when going to the toilet or getting a drink in the middle of the night. I do not have any lights left on. So pitch black and this has caused some very unappetizing accidents, trips, and toe stubbing. (I am sure you get the idea) So nag nag nag at the children. Turn. The. Light. On!

I wake up at around 2.49am from a rather disturbing sleep. I am parched and get out of bed to fetch myself a drink.  (For most that don’t know I have not got great eye sight and I should wear my glasses a lot more than I do. This fact is important later)

Lamp next to my bed – light not turned on. (I didn’t stub my toe on the end of the bed.) I continue to pad to the;

Landing, light switch at the top of the stairs not turned on. (Could have crashed down the stairs, but no.)

Hall way, the light switch in front of me at the bottom of the stairs, not turned on. (Could have trod on a fucking Lego cube but didn’t.)

Kitchen, light switch by the door as you enter the kitchen. I walk over to the sink (on the opposite side of the kitchen, near the back door.)

Now if this were a movie that I was narrating this would be where you see me reach into the cupboard (missing my head by a pubic hair) and half effetely pulling out a pint glass. And then * pause movie*

Some idiot (that would be me) had piled two small glasses on top of each other. I reach out and hold the top of the top glass thinking it is a pint glass.

*Un-pause movie* The bottom glass falls out from the not so great air lock of the top glass, falling on to the corner of the sink, (Now my bob cat reactions are non existent so I just watch it bounce off the sink corner) and then over the side falling 3 feet down onto the ceramic tile kitchen floor.

Could be because it was the dead of night that it sounded like I had taken a hammer to the back window but it was an ear piercing shattering of glass. I think I may have woken my children and my neighbours up. I stand still thinking – fuck.

I am barefoot. It’s dark, I can’t see fuck all and the broken glass is all over the kitchen floor but I can not see it. I won’t tell you how long I stood there pondering what I should do.  Now say it with me ….

SHOULD HAVE TURNED THE FUCKING LIGHT ON YOU STUPID COW

BREAKING DAWN SPOILER

********SPOILER ALERT********

Please excuse my over alliterated passion for the twilight series.

OK so you knew I would do this. However, can you really call yourself a Twilight fan if you have not read the books? Well half arsed Twilight fans (psh) who have not read the books are sure to love the hanger at the end of the movie. For those (true fans) that have read the book OR you want to know what happens, continue to read on. I have read the Twilight books (all for of them) maybe 4 or 5 times. Psh at you Twilight fans who have not read one book! – Hey that is how I feel on the matter… so sue me!

If you want a better understanding of Edward, look on Stephanie Mayer's website she posted her writing of twilight from Edwards perspective, but due to a leak of the start of the book ‘Midnight Sun’ she never published it L you can check that out by clicking HERE

Bella and Edward announce they are getting married. Jacob don’t agree and runs away for a  long time only to return on the wedding day where Bella lets Jacob know she intends to have sex with Edward while she is human. Jacob gets slightly miffed. On their honeymoon they get jiggie with it. This leaves Bella bruised and a bed destroyed from Edward’s passion and strength. They overcome the problem and have lots more sex. Bella gets knocked up. (So not a bastard child – just a blood drinking human!) The baby grows quick draining Bella of all life. So Bella dies, and the only way to save her is to pump her heart and blood stream with Edwards’s venom turning her in to a vampire. The baby is born and Jacob imprints on the baby girl (name I refuse to say) so thus the epic feud between werewolf and vampire dissolves. (They are now all BFF’s) the last 30 seconds of the movie, Bella’s appearance turns (from a skinning, dying, bad hair human woman) too a beautiful vampire, her heart beats until the last second of the movie, then her heartbeat stops and she opens her crimson eyes.... dramatic hanger.. After a roll of credits, the movie continues to tell us that the Voltorri have the news that Bella is now a vampire so basically up yours. But the Voltorri (Aro) – still intends to find a reason to harass the Cullen’s, as they have something he wants… Tadaaaaaa

MY TAKE ON IT

Love love love love loved it. They added some lovely humour in the wedding. Stephanie Mayer has a cameo as a wedding guest (shocker). The sex scenes were convincing. They did well to make her look so skinny and ill. Love love loved it!

I think OMG at her wearing heels and walking on the grass on her wedding day, turns out she had trainers on!  However, sadly some of the book was missed, Jacobs and Rosalie’s banter of 'Blondie and Dog'– missed L I laughed when in the book when she makes him a dog bowl and scraps the word 'fido' into it with her nail. It was not in the movie boo. For some reason Jacob had a shirt on for most the time (I mean what the fuck was that all about, don’t they realise that is reason warrant enough to see a movie regardless of the story?) anyway yes, loved it all the same!!! Can’t wait for next year to see the end part where we see Bella discover her talents as a immortal, a wife, and a mother, the struggles of having half human- half vampire child and the stigma and trouble that can cause. To get a better understanding on the concept that Stephanie Mayer has on the new born vampire people should read, ‘The short second life of Bree Tanner’ ( she was the girl that got killed at the end of Eclipse!… I won’t spoil any more for you, go read the fucking books!

I still maintain that if your body is made of glass and stone and you have no heart beat, how did he get a woody to do the bizzo? Anyway, it is fiction right?

I had a wonderful evening (thank you) We went to Westfeilds in Stratford, an amazing place I was impressed. massively busy and I got sore feet ( I know why now as well ) If I had taken my Christmas vouchers with me, I would have been sure to spend them all on shoes! a wicked evening! Although, life lesson 409! Having a low tolerance for dairy products and being nervous plus an overly rich creamy mushroom starters and main course, equals bad, bad and slightly embarrassing stomach problems, reactions and noises.

Just thought I would share that with you this fine Sunday evening. Toodlepip for now.

Mr.D. - NEW

Mr.D- How has your week been Mel?

Mel – reasonable thanks and yours?

Mr.D – uneventful really. Have you been back to the Dentist?

Mel- Nope

Mr.D – ahh OK

Mel- going on Friday (smile)

Mr.D – ha ha ha

Mel- having inappropriate thoughts of people I don’t know makes my day more interesting Mr.D, you know that.

Mr.D – do you think having inappropriate thoughts of people you don’t know is healthy?

Me- humm…. (Pause) not now that you asked that question, in the tone that you asked it!

Mr.D- It is not uncommon to have thoughts like the ones you have. However, most people keep them as thoughts. You appear to enjoy letting people know your thoughts.

Mel- mmmaybe. You would not be the first person to say I seem to say what most people are thinking. Maybe I should keep my thoughts to myself.

Mr.D- that is interesting.

Mel – oh here we go! I’ll bite Mr.D – why, why is that interesting?

Mr.D – you like to shock people (smile)

Mel- is that a statement or a question?

Mr.D- an observation.

Mel- maybe I am just tired of pussyfooting around the world’s ignorance. (Pause) … I only do it around people I trust (laugh)

Mr.D- (pause) trust, yes, did you happen to resolve that friendship we spoke about at the end of last week’s session?

Mel- (grunt)

Mr.D I take it that it did not go so well?

Mel – nope. I have a question.

Mr.d – Avoidance! (Smile) – But OK what is the question?

Mel- is there some psychological meaning behind wanting and needing the TV remote?

Mr.D – slightly random but interesting question. Do you feel you need to have the TV control or is it simply that you want it?

Mel- it is mine, thus give it here biatch! (Laugh)

Mr.D- Mocking! - If you wanted to look at it, you could see some power issue with the remote but I know you are just diverting. So tell me what happened?

Really!! You think there is a power play to having to have the TV remote? I call it having TV remote privileges!!



The following session....
Mr.D- How has your week been Mel?

Mel – different thanks and yours?

Mr.D- same really, different?

Mel- I have been writing a lot recently due to the thing we spoke about.

Mr.D- yes of course. Have you smoked any since we spoke that day?

Mel- no, I haven’t. I posted some writing on my blog that gave me the chance to receive a lot of feedback. Some very positive and a small part negative.

Mr.D- Did you have trouble receiving the negative feedback?

Mel- not about my writing, it was the subject matter. I wrote about being in an abusive relationship. The writing was so good; people seemed to believe I was drawing from personal experience.

Mr.D- how did that make you feel?

Mel- good and bad, I feel like I offended people with the subject matter. I considered taking the post off but was advised by close friends and family not to. Even now, it is still the most read post on my blog (smile)

Mr.D- I see you’re happy about this. but I want to remind you once again what the smoking of cannabis can do to you. I can see you don't like this but you could have a mental reaction to the drugs and have to be committed into hospital. you need to stop!

Mel- I know. Anyway..I have questioned my writing abilities for a very long time. The more I feel I am good enough, the more I am likely to finish the book.

Mr.d- We will come back to the smoking as I find it Interesting that you used the phase ‘good enough’

Mel- good enough not to be laughed out of a publishing office

Mr.D- I understand. That must be a little frustrating that there are some subject matters you feel the need to stay clear of on the online blog?

Mel- The only subject I tend to avoid is sex. But I did blog about faking orgasms, spunk and my lack of sex life. (Snigger)

Mr.D – again with the shock factor.

Mel- not at all. We all live in the same world. What happens to me can’t only happen to me. I guess I feel safe enough to express myself without judgment or offending people.

Mr.D-firstly didn’t you just express a concern of offending readers with the subject matter?

Mel- being punched in the head by a partner and expressing sexual needs don’t even fit in the same box Mr.D

Mr.D- p-p-please don’t get defensive, you do make a good point. Secondly, you said safe enough. You find safety within posting your blog?

Mel- I do. For me, it is what having your own blog all is about. A place for your thoughts, feelings, worries, piss taking remarks, rants, questions. People have a choice to not want to read it as much as they have a choice to carry on reading it. If that makes sense.

Mr.D- total sense, I am glad that you find writing a healthy outlet.

Mel- yea I blog about our chats as well

Mr.D- I am sorry, what do you mean?

Mel- I post yours and my chat’s pretty much word for word on my blog.

Mr.D- YOU DO WHAT?!!!???

Oppz... psh shock factor -_-

… I will let you know what happened……. next time J

MONDAY 14TH NOVEMBER

His face is so beautiful.  Big brown eyes looked back at me, lovingly, wantonly.  Oh my, it is large and slimy looking.  I’ve seen something similar before, was it in a shower may be?  It’s huge with sort of knobbles on it, goodness me! I should have brought my gloves. But he really wants me to, so I must.  I look about furtively, somebody might see me.  That’s the trouble in the park - all sorts are out there.  Wow it’s such a whopper, how do I . . . what am I supposed to do with it.  I don’t really want to touch it, it’s so big.  I look back at his face, his head tilted to one side quizzically as if to say, “go on, you know what to do.  You know you want to.”  Who would have thought it, such a little dog with an enormous stick just waiting to “fetch”?

Writen by Anon

This writing is not my own. It was sent to me and I asked if they wanted it posted and they said yes. I smiled at this writing. Thank you Anon :) great writing - keep it going.

Hope everyone had a good Monday.

SLEEPY-BED

My sleep pattern these days seems to be completely fucked. I have to literally drag my self from my bed in the morning and then all day I want to curl up and close my eyes. Yet when it finally rolls round to bedtime, I can not fall asleep for love nor money. Typical!

When I do wake in the morning my bed is a total mess. Pillows flung around – on the floor. The Duvet is all over the place, the end with the poppers up the head end. And the sheet totally mangled and exposing lots of mattress. What on earth am I doing in my sleep! Then it dawned on me that I have to have my feet outside of the duvet. I do like the duvet up by my shoulders and snug but got to have them tootsies out. Am I total freak?

Having to rebuild my bed each day is getting annoying. I never used to sleep like this. I get into a lovely soft fresh smelling bed and I love it. Humm I admit my dreams have been slightly off since having to wear the blimming hatful night guard.   I am sure I am not the only person that has fucked up sleeping habits. Please help me feel better by telling me I am not alone on this one.

Good Sunday to you all J

VagMintarS

When we read about the vampire myth we almost fall about laughing. We love how such ideas of vampires have been twisted and turned over the years. We wanted to set the record straight so we decided to allow this to slip out on to the internet.

 There are no ‘elders’ to consult. we have no council of sorts. No leader either. Humans wrote it more truely in ‘star trek’ and the Borg. We are a collective. We are connected we think and feel as one but we have personal will that allows us to be individual to a degree. We guess you could look at it as evolving with the times. We need to participate within the normal living life’s of humans to be able to maintain being inconspicuous. We could be seen as a clique or a cult if we are not very flexible.

We were born into this life 19 years ago. The myth suggests that we do not age.  We do age; in fact we have a life span of 88 years. Then we simply disappear into a pile of platinum dust. Our veins pump platinum cells so when we are hurt we bleed silver/blue fluid. Yet over the years we have designed a drink that turns our platinum cells – our blood –a very convincing colour red.  To blend in. We have hearts that beat, we breathe with our lungs and we can lose a limp or two if we are not carful. We can be killed by human weapons.  We are females, we, are the only ones of our kind that can turn others.  

 When turning a male human, it is intended for us to breed, this in fact is the way we turn males.  Our gland, that produces the cells that takes over the human body, are buried deep inside our genitalia.  We can not exist without reproducing. We do not hunt and take humans for food nor to turn them. Quite often humans find us and wish to join our kind by free will. We can not manipulate the mind.

We live amongst humans. You may have seen us around. The females of our kind, me included, have a likeness to what male humans look like but are still female. Often wearing glasses as our eyes work differently. And the males of our kind resemble the female humans, although they are clearly male.

We did not evolve from vampires, as ‘vampires’ do not exist at all. We are VagMintarS. We do not burn up in sunlight nor sparkle like a crystal. We are not all breathtakingly attractive. We can with stand garlic; in fact it is good for us. Silver is at no risk to us. We can hold our breath for a long period of time. But that is not to say that too long under water won’t kill us.

We all work within small towns often at a gas station. Age depending and go to university or work within them, often in the library but always remaining with of our kind.  We have some rules that we adhere to but staying away from humans is not one of them. We do not feed off of humans. Our source of food is very unique. No human has heard of or seen in their life time what we use as a source of food.  How we obtain our food source is within one of our rules.

INCEPTION-FICTION WRITING

It was a beautiful spring day. The sun was absolutely divine. It sat alone on an ocean of blue sky.

  I was sat on a park bench savouring my hour for lunch when my gaze set upon a couple sitting enjoying the day. The woman, who was beautiful with long auburn hair, was laid on her front, propped up on her elbows with her ankles crossed behind her. She was staring at the man, who was lying on his side facing her. The man, stocky with dark stylish hair reached out his hand to push aside some hair that had blown over her eye. She glanced down at her hands that were holding a flower and she smiled. Slowly she brought the flower up to her nose and she closed her eyes. The man took the flower from her and tenderly brushed his thumb over her plump red lips. With her wide, excited eyes she looked over at him. It looked like she was holding her breath. The man took her hand into his and caressed the length of each of her fingers. She looked down and watched his every move. She started to bite on her lip. He lifted her chin with his index finger and said something to her. She smiled at him and they sat talking all the while they were holding hands. I sat watching from behind my book, feeling quite envious.

After a while my eyes searched around the park. There were kids playing Frisbee. There were couples sitting on the grass and some walking around the lake.  There were a lot of men and women walking their dogs. My attention went to a young man walking his brown dog and an elderly couple slowly walking around the lake. I tilted my head to see the elderly couple were holding hands as they walked.

I wondered to myself how long they had been together. I caught myself smiling at them and I began to feel buoyant.

My gaze wandered round to the young man with the brown dog. He was throwing the ball and the dog was retrieving it. While he was facing my direction I took a look at his face. He was unbelievably handsome, enough to make me want to stop being petrified of dogs. I felt myself staring at him and stopped. Shifting my weight and changing the way I was sat, I looked back down at my book.

Gradually my eyes crept back to the young man. I watched him being playful with his dog. He unexpectedly turned around and looked right at me. His eyes were bright blue.

His stare was unfathomable. Feeling discombobulated I wanted to look behind me to check that he was in fact looking at me. 

I started to feel his allure and I smiled at him. He flashed me an amazing smile that sent a rush of heat across my face. He turned and walked away from me with his dog. As I watched him walking away, my eyes came across the couple that I first saw at the park. They were sitting up laughing. She was holding his face in the palm of her hands. The smile on her face was displaying numerous emotions. His hands were rested on her bare shoulders. I could see him caressing her skin with his thumbs. They kissed and I looked back down at my book.

I checked the time and my hour was almost up. I didn’t relish the idea of going back to work on this gorgeous day, I contemplated finishing early. I started to pack my belongings up when a brown dog started to sniff at my feet. I felt myself become rigid. Slowly my line of sight was looking at a pair of black Reebok trainers.

My eyes scanned up each inch of the young man in front of me. I took in all the detail of his loose fitting jeans, his belt buckle, his smart Lacoste t-shirt, the detailed tattoo on his right muscular arm, the tanned left arm that stretched out holding a black leather lead, his broad shoulders, his height, the amazing smile that was spread across his face and his short dark messy hair. His intense blue eyes were wide and welcoming. I could not help but smile back.

We chatted briefly about his dog before the young man sat down next to me. His dog sat at his feet and the handsome young man rested his arm along the back of the bench. I forgot that I should have gone back into work. We began to make conversation and that was how it all started.

100 WORDS - DISAPOINTED

Disappointed

Hurting deep inside

Betrayed again

I’ve been here before, many times.

I wanted to believe the words

I wished they were true

Hopeful, that this time was different

All of it gone like sand through my fingers.

On top of everything else as well

This time it feels harder to move past

I am sure it won’t be the last time either

I feel as though I have been winded

I can’t fight the sadness any more

It feels final, no hope left

You would have thought it would be different

Being it wasn't a man that caused it.



LOOK! IT RHYMES AND EVERYTHING!

There was a time before I was a mum

Sunny days and having fun

But when I was late I had to run

I always made it back to my mum

I met a guy and thought he was the one

We got married and had a son

The drama caused problems that could not be undone

And so I become alone – a number one

Just me and my son

I went on with things, as it has to be done

Then I met another one

This time it was different, he was the one

We married and had a son

But not long after our son was one
I work out that I am not his one
Oh boy and it stung

So I did what needed to be done

And again I was a number one

So what did I do to stop feeling glum?

I tried to be the best kind of mum

Keeping my kids happy with love and food in their tum

Trying to be a good parent that don’t sit on my bum

But always loving and having fun

Games, laughing and that stupid water gun

And of course not remaining a nun

But even still I have no hun
Now when I shout for my boys, it is to me that they run

I love my kids but I need to stop being dumb

It is time that I get off my bum

Time to stop the shun

And start to be someone

Other than a mum

And go outside into the world with the sun

Nothing scares me as much as earning a crumb

Gain some confidence as I have none
But it is what needs to be done.

So in the New Year I will be the one

That has a boss that I can stun

It is not about winning as there is no game to be won

Living a life that is happy and fun

Even if it feels like a pun

Songs and books are written and the clichés sung

But you can control what is to be done

I seem to be going on a bit now I am spun

I wanted to share my hopes and dreams to come

And that maybe, one day I will find that right kind of someone.

THOUGHTS ON THURSDAY

Diet coke and a smoke and we are off……..

Having felt inspired to write… and write some more over the last week.  I felt the need to go back to my ever waiting book. For those who didn’t know, or haven’t followed my blog from the get go, or simple skim read to the fuck words. I have been attempting to write a novel since I was 21. The original story has not changed, ( love) but I built around it. ( murder and deception, friendship and family) I spent a lot of time working on the characters and their back grounds. I am almost half way through the writing. I come back to every now and then. The chapters are all set out. I just need to write the flow of story out, easy you say… easy unless your have ‘ writers block’ or you could say, distractions, kids, college, life, men or a addiction to face book, sleep and the TV!

As I have felt inspired and less blocked with writing due to reasons that might not get mummy’s approval, the block is down and I feel confident in sharing the preface of the book. However, I have some writing that I would consider the preface but having researched what is acceptable as a preface I am becoming a little stuck -_- (Really need an editor!)

Now do I post MY preface or now... that is the question…

Now that I have said that about not having a block, I may well wake up and be blocked as that is the law of the sod. Preface to come soon! (Possibly)

100 WORDS WRITING- HUMPTH

Drumming my nails on the counter.  Can she see how annoyed I am? She looks up at me over her glasses. Pitiful! She attempts to look sorry. She stutters and stammers ‘I am really sorry.’ I stare into her blue eyes. Noticing how old she looks. Poor bitch. I want her to know how pissed off I am, how she just ruined my whole fucking day dammit. But no. I smile turn on my heel and walk away. Shoulders slumped and feeling disappointed. I hear her mumble once again ‘I am really sorry.’ How can they run out, fucking Argos!

DIRTBAG PART ONE

I could feel my consciousness coming back around. I didn’t want to open my eyes just yet, I could not hear very well. I could hear something but it was muffled. I thought back to the last thing I remember doing before I fell asleep. I remembered I didn’t just fall asleep and so lay very still. The pain in my head starts to creep in. first through my left ear then over my left eye and that is where the pain stayed. A hot, Sharpe pain. I could feel myself wincing. I tried to lift my hand up to the left side of my face but my arm didn’t want to obey me just yet. Sudden load muffles of noise and then I felt my whole body move in a quick motion. The splitting pain in my head went away for a second. It felt kind like pins and needles – fizzy before the pain came straight back with all its friends. I open my eyes but fail; I can only seem to open one eye, my right eye. It is blurred, stinging now it’s open. It’s very bright and my ears are still muffled like I am under water. I see a dark figure hover over me. funny taste in my mouth. Again I try and move my hand up to my face, this time with success. I look at my hand as it passes my eye line and it is covered in blood. My heart skips and then starts to race. The dark figure, which can only be him, starts to become a little clearer. A look of anger across their face. Almost snarling at me. I close my eyes and hold the left side of my head hoping for some relief from the splitting pain. More pain hits, this time around my mouth. I can feel the pressure of my cheeks against my teeth. My eyes snap open. Sending a wave of pain down the left side of my face and a stinging in my eyes I had never thought possible. My left eye closes while my hand rests over it. As this gives me some sort of relief. My right eye is open looking up at the man I thought I loved for a while; he had his hand over my mouth pushing his fingers into my cheeks. He is shouting. The muffled noise sounds like distorted music. I just lay looking up at him waiting for him to stop. Dare I say anything or move at this point. Don’t seem to matter anyway, I don’t do anything it pisses him off, I do and it pisses him off. I do wish he wouldn’t drink. I need to get away from this. His hand releases and he pushes my head back as he walks away. I pull myself up and steady myself before I walk the 20 steps to the bathroom. As I walk my ears pop and suddenly I can hear every single sound. Suppose I should see how bad it is this time. Still holding the left side of my face. I slowly move towards the mirror. Fuck.

WHAT IS GOOD TO WATCH ON TV

I caught up a lot on my TV over the last week or so. I was told about a programme that was going to air a few weeks ago. I quickly popped online and set the remote sky plus to record the programme. It took me a while to get round to watching it. Since there were now 2 episodes out of 8 recorded. I sat and watched. The programme was called ‘THE SLAP’

This programme brought up a few political views. The slap was handed out to a child. Not by a parent or a relation. I have always found this subject matter brings up a lot of opinions. The whole smacking or not smacking a child debate can get highly heated.

The programme its self is, I feel pretty good. It’s based in Australia. Might not be most people’s cup of tea.

(Wondering to blog about this whole smacking thing not)

As a parent the idea of someone slapping my child brings me to say this…..

“And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. (Children) And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee." Tell me you don’t know what movie that is from!

So imagine me now standing with a big black guy while holding a hand grenade before anyone thinks to slap my kids.

Also you would know when you’re significantly stoned or pissed when you unwillingly giggle to 'Austin Powers' movies!

yea baby.. yeaaaa

Is it me or am I the only one loving ‘RINGER’? I am really enjoying it.

Also season four of ‘BIG LOVE’ – looking good J

‘SUPERNAURAL’ – OMFG love it! can not wait for next season.

The new season of, ‘BONES’ airs next Wednesday woooo hoooo.

What else am I missing that is good to watch on TV?

THE HANKY

The lake and park was 2.7 miles away from home. It was a fair walk but in this Village, in this town, that was the norm. The Primary school was a stones throw away. But secondary school was 1.8 miles away. We walked everywhere, my brother and I. As the years passed in this town we would walk miles more. Heading into the main town centre and to the next town over where we both would spend our adolescence years skating round and around in circles.

The walking for miles to go meet friends was again, normal. Back in this year we had no mobile phones and we had to be home as the street light went on. The summers where hot. Hotter than hot and hazy. The kind of summer days that now as an adult seem not to exist. It seemed every friend at school was doing the same thing and going to the same places. Sometimes with parental knowledge and consent and some without. I do believe I was one of the ones without. I was young, how young I am not sure. I remember I had just stopped wearing white ankle socks. As most will know white ankle socks... a big no no, which was, back then, grounds for a beating up.  So I had white tan lines around my ankles. (Sport socks had not been invented yet.) So still not sure exactly what age I was. I was under the age of 13 that much I am truly sure of.

The day was hot, sunny and I knew where everyone would be. Capstone Park. There was a lake there and a shop and some other stuff I didn’t take much notice of as a kid. My parents left my brother and me money on the side each day. Often I would spend mine on cigarettes. Yes I would spend £1.12 on ten b&h (If I had not got the chance to pinch a few out of my dad’s packet.)

My parents had got a bit savvy on the ‘taking things’ out the house. At this point they were getting wise to not leave anything lying around. So I would take one of my brother’s pound coins instead. He was still left with two! I would find some poor sap to go into Martin’s and buy my fags. ‘Excuse me, can you get me ten b and h and a box of matches, please?’

I had been a bit of a bastard child, and I would like to say I got better. But I didn’t. I got worse and worse. I stole, I lied, I did what I wanted, and I misbehaved. – Basically I had a shit loud of fun! But at the expense of others. I can only recognise this now because I am an adult. Back then, I was what most people would say ‘a typical teenage girl.’ Ahem to that!

On occasion I would get caught being naughty or just be playing up. Often my brother and I would fall out. (It wasn’t me, it was him!) Often we were together when we played up and then we would fall out with both our parents. This strengthened the bond between my brother and me in the process. Often after falling out with our parents there would be a discussion about what had happened. Often this was upsetting; I would lay on how upsetting of course and I would cry. I knew my dad hated seeing us upset and I used it to my advantage as much as I could. (Hey I was a teenage girl) my dad always carried a hanky in his pocket. He would hand his hanky over when the tears came. I wish I could tell you that he only needed to hand me a hanky a handful of times over the years. But sadly no, those hanky’s still get pulled out even now. Of course my tears now are real.  My dad brings a great sense of comfort and relief during troubled times. I am sure my brother and mother would totally agree. 

On this particular sunny day in the hot summer holidays, I took my brothers pound, got some fags, I had one of my dad’s hankies with me. I used to put my coins in the middle of the hanky and then tie it up, twisting the top so the money would not jingle around. I USED to put this in my sock! But now it was impossible, so I put the coins in my shoe and the hanky tucked in to the band of my shorts. No pockets, no key, no phone, no bag. (When you didn’t need to carry your life around with you!) I start the long arse walk down to Capstone Park.

The walk was nice, mostly country lanes although I had to walk through a few fields. Or... you could roll down them. Often doing that just for the fun of it. It’s all good until you roll yourself into some dogshit! (Never happened to me thank goodness.) I finally get to the lake and I look around for my friends. I know they are here somewhere. I see the lake and really need a drink. I walk past the shop and see a few friends lying on blankets on the grass with a couple of boys sitting near them. I start to walk over when I realise I can’t feel my hanky in the band of my shorts. I start to look behind me, around me, even down my shorts- everywhere. Fuck fuck fuck!

I don’t know why it bothered me so much. It was not like that hanky was indeed my dad and I had lost HIM. But that feeling deep inside my stomach, ached to the point of making me sad. I didn’t want to loss my dad’s hanky. It was my dad’s. So I turned and started walking back the way I came. I kept on walking getting more and more upset while I walked. Panicked even, heart was skipping, tummy was churning.

(Looking back I think it was totally irrational to feel like that.) Almost running down the country lane before having to cross the field I see something white in the road. Oh god I hope that is it… breaking into a run and the closer I got the more I was absolutely positive it was my hanky. Relief and happiness and a smile across my face. I picked it up and dusted it off then letting out a deep sigh. (I remember feeling so much better.) Again I turned and walked back to my friends at the lake and making sure that I tucked the hanky in tight!

I had a dream about this not so long ago. The emotion that I felt on this day, the smells, sounds, the heat, the thirst in my mouth and throat, the excitement, the fear, freedom and of course the feeling of loss, I felt it all came flooding back. I did what most adults do; I sat and thought about this dream and how vivid it was. My subconscious could have pulled this up for so many reasons.

My son is becoming a 13 year old in Jan. To which I am struggling with all the drama that can and does present.

I worry about my parent’s health.

I worry about my family.

I feel guilt for the things I did in my youth.

My son more recently has asked me to buy him some hankies.

On many occasions I have pulled a hanky from my son’s pocket.

A year ago today my brother was run over.

All of the above perhaps.

I think I worked out why I was so attached to the hanky. College was rather heavy this week. Something was brought up about loss. This brought up more recent events involving my brother and it did remind me that, still now, as an adult any possessions that have been given to me by family members, I hold very dear to me.

Fear of losing members of my family.

I fear I am losing my child to adulthood.

I fear losing my children full stop.

I witnessed my parent’s loss when they lost their parents.

I fear losing mine.

Mr.D

Mr.D- Mel how long have you had these kinds of dreams?

Mel- all my life.

Mr.D- I see, do you understand the meaning behind the dream?

Mel- yep. I looked it up.

Mr.D-right OK, can I ask you about something you said last time we spoke?

Mel- sure

Mr.D- how long did your last relationship last?

Mel – 3 weeks (didn’t hesitate)

Mr.D – and the one before that?

Mel- …. (Pause) 3 weeks….

Mr.D- and… the one before that?

Mel-…….erm…… (Pause) 3 weeks…….

Mr.D- I see, outside of family connections what is the longest relationship/friendship you have maintained?

Mel- ……erm…..ooo…..ahh…. mmmmm… well… I have been a patient at my dentist surgery since 1997. (Smile) my relationship with my dentist has to be the longest.

Mr-D – ha, ha, ha, that is not quite what I meant but OK. Back to your dreams.

Mel- yea, chewing on my tongue and dreaming that my teeth falling out. I read the teeth thing was about vanity, and my sub conscious worry of ageing. As for chewing on my tongue, maybe I shouldn’t go to sleep hungry.

Mr.D- your funny Mel (smile)

Mel- yea, I know. That’s what they say. Sense of humour only gets you so far Mr.D. Then one day you wake up and you have chewed your tongue off.

Mr.D- perhaps you should go back to wearing the night guard to protect your tongue.

Mel- was that a question or a statement? (Hahahaha)

Mr.D- that depends really Mel. You can worry about your tongue chewing or dream your teeth are falling out. What do you think is more harmful at this point?

Mel- I know, I know, I know what your saying, that fucking night guard! I guess if we wanted to go all Freud about it. The feeling of the night guard just reminds me of when I wore braces as a kid. That feeling in my teeth is something I will never forget.

Mr.D- Totally. You have very nice teeth Mel (smile)

Mel- oh...thanks Mr.D.

My longest relationship is with my NHS dentist, and he is one hot piece of arse. I didn’t see his face for 5 years. He always had that blimming mask on. Then one day. I see him without it and he sure is yummy. Off to the dentist again next week. I must stop chewing my tongue.(melidiot) Sadly, the night guard I was given, by my delicious dentist, (swoon) causes me to have more and more dreams about my teeth falling out. As for Mr.D more about them later ;)

Random? J

HEEL-IN-THE-GROUND

Healing the ground?

Hill in the ground?

Heel! in the! ground!

Oh that sinking feeling….

Wearing heels! I was recently at a party where a lot of the ladies there were wearing some fantastic heels. Now a lot of guys don’t give to shits about shoes. Some on the other hand like heels a little bit too much! Myself, like a lot of women, (I’m sure) like a nice pretty pair of shoes. It’s not always about comfort. It can be as simple as, ‘I just like how I feel about myself when I am wearing them. I like how they look, I like how they look on me, I like how they sound and as long as I am not standing in them constantly for 2-3 hours, I like how they feel.’  However, that said standing on anything other than concert in heels becomes a fucking Olympic sport. Weddings, christenings, bar-b-q's!  Dare thou lady eve to wear heels, because you will simply sink into the grassy ground. Fucking ball ache, ever wondered why there is always a huddle of women standing together at functions? They are there because the ground don’t try and suck the heels under ground! Other woman in flat comfortable shoes may well think, ‘bitches all talking about other woman over there,’ no ladies, just some solid ground. Other wise, we have the, walking away while your shoe is still stuck into the ground, setting off and your bare foot stepping onto the damp, yucky soil – yummy. Or... the walking away while your 50 pound shoe remains stuck into the ground and you fall head first on to the grass... classic - a true Melidiot moment! ( make sure you have your cameras handy) or.. Better still, there is, knowing that your heel is stuck into the ground and having to steady yourself on someone else while you pull that fucker out. Then! To make things worse, having a man say something in a completely wanker way of course, ‘Why did you choose to wear them stupid shoes anyway?’ dontcha just wanna slap em! Hard, perhaps, hit them…. with your shoe!

It is not that I possess a many pair of shoes. No no no, over the years I have just been able to collect a few pairs, sales ECT… I have shoes that are older than 5 years old! Many family members may or may not remember me wearing heels at functions. I feel comfortable in heels as most the male members of the family are over 6 foot, wearing heels is ideal to not feel like a shortie. I have had red ones, black ones, blue ones, beige ones, ( loved them till they broke, they cost me 5 quid!) even white ones because I am an Essex girl – it would be rude not to. I have noticed that wedges are now back in fashion, which pleases me as I have a few pairs of them, from 6 years ago! They are not so easy to be pulled in to the ground! Oh how I miss my black wedges! I wore those shoes to my brothers wedding in 2000, and last year they broke! Not fair! They had a good long life but I was not willing to give up on them, so my father and I tried to fix them, a couple of times. (‘No nails’ glue and such home made fix it remedies)  I took them to a shoe mender and even he said he couldn’t fix them but made them able to be worn one last time (maybe) I took the risk and I was at the wedding not 10 minutes when the heel broke clear off! Mother fucker. I had to walk around all fucking night awkward because I only had one heel, on one foot! Wasn’t like I could take them off either! (Grown at the memory!) Even though those black wedges died a magnificent death. I still have not had the balls to throw them away. They still wait in the wardrobe for some miracle in shoe mending.

That completes my random shit, 11.30 pm inspired blog for this evening. I hope that everyone had a most wonderful weekend. Be safe to you all.

Blog ya later!

PLANET OF THE ALCHYS

Now I hope I don’t go offending anyone here. As I well know most people like a good old drinkiepoos. Let me be clear on MY definitional of being a true Alchy;

• Someone that drinks pretty much every single day.

I find these people utter such bollocks like, ‘I am not an alchy, I can take it or leave it,’ or, ‘I like to have at least one drink a day.’ Or, ‘I’ve only had one.’

For me this is Classic psychological reasoning, allowing them to drink daily. From where I sit in the ivory confines of Mel’s world, this says HELLO YOU ARE A DRUNK!!

It is not that go out on a mission to purposely research such problems in people. I just seem to have a bull eyes target on my back for any and all fucked up, emotional retarded, cross dressing, mummies boys, selfish, drunk, head messed, druggie, issue infested nut jobs on the planet. The fact I seem to have a radar for the truly fucked up has maybe pushed me into the area of counselling. (Takes one to know one, you could say here.) The reasons for them finding me could well be my wanting to accept people for whom and what they are, as this is truly what I wish from people about myself. However, wanting to be a counsellor could well be because of my journey and issues I have had to face. Life issues that I struggle to understand as a human but more so as a parent. I worry for my children and the issues that may well cross their path.

(Some defensive excuses coming) I am not saying I do not suffer with a copious amount of issues. I do. I admit it. I am medicated and attend courses to manage my issues; I have upset family members and poured out my heart and soul to get help. That is maybe the fundamental difference between being fucked up and admitting it and being fucked up and ignoring it or making excuses for it. How many druggie/alchy, addicts do you know that don’t think they are fucked up?

Anyway like I was saying I don’t go out of my way to come across people like this. I seem to bump into them in the co-op – literally bumped into a drunk at 9.15am this morning. He absolutely reeked of last nights booze. I don’t know if anyone reading this knows that smell on someone’s breath but it is very distinctive. He breathed all over me and swayed a little. He had an Alchy Face - Their face is always super red and their nose is bulbous with broken capillaries their lips are puffy, pale, and drawn into a slobbering grin. Their eyes are all bloodshot and unfocused. This bloke could not have been more than 35, yet he face looked so much older. I could not help but feel sad. Not 6 and half hours later on the way back from the school run. Another one, he was standing on the side of the road, two cans in his shaking hands. Looking like he was about to fall off the edge of the world. This made me hate living around here. I have often seen mostly guys walking around early doors with their bag of booze or tin in hand. I guess this explains the constant improvement of our local convenience store that is fittingly called ‘Bargain Booze.’ help the alchy community grow and grow should be their slogan.

I know it might appear that I am attacking and judging those people that I do not know nor understand their reasons for doing what they do. Fair do’s, I am being a bit of an arsehole here but this today has made me feel truly sad. As a parent, as a women, as a human, as a basildonyte, as an Essex girl. It just made me feel sad, and it reminded me of all the people I have met in my days that have drink, drug issues and how I wonder how far down the hole they are or are not. No truer words were spoken when they said, you can’t save everyone. And some people don’t want to be saved. This may well be the truth. I guess what I want for other people, be it good or not. The person must want it for themselves.....