they warned me the devil was attractive

Some might argue I have experienced a week in Hell, I say it's all part of the challenge, and the more shit life throws at me, the more I surprise myself with how I now deal with it after the initial angry reaction to it (anger runs in the family). I received a text message off my ex Cameron which went a bit like this:

Hi Andrew. You don't have to reply blah blah blah. I saw you browsing Hawaiian Tropic (label name drop). I wanted to give you a hug, for some reason. I wanted to tell you about everything that I have been up to because it's more important that you know how I'm doing and the progress it looks like I've made on the outside. You were my best friend (probably because no one has been crazy enough to give you that much of a chance before). I want to chat to you as my friend. And more over the top flattering stuff, like thanks and sorry.... you get the picture.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy to hear from him, and I give people so many chances and believe that people deserve it, and when they desperately plead they have changed, the good nature I possess feels sympathetic for them, and the friend that I can be comes out: loyal, open minded, non judgemental and always good for a laugh. I liked the idea of putting the past behind me, as I am forever trying to balance my karma. I was even offered my jacket back, the short double breasted coat that he took from me that I loved so much. I felt, in this rare occasion that karma was rewarding me materially for giving him a chance, yet felt anxious due to his typical track record and the fact that karma does not work within the confines of material wealth and that I am not materially driven at all (I appreciate quality, not status).

Because the message was so long and I am so busy, I thought it would be good to meet up, just to catch up and get this jacket and was brutally rebuffed on the Monday night with the expected. Cameron's intention would be to have me wanting him back, tempted by the piece of his happy relationship he metaphorically dangled before my eyes, with his executive sounding partner, who probably came complete with car and own place, the vital essentials for a happy relationship (for someone living in a meticulously constructed fantasy world deeply influenced by the 'morals' presented by Sex and the City). I was left hurt not by that, because I don't have feelings or care about him at all, but by the fact that some cruel people like him, even after a considerable amount of time of, lets just say, a year, never change. A leopard never changes its spots and a slapper never changes her knickers.

'Homerwit Romance' is an anagram of Cameron's name. His zodiac sign is Taurus.

Then, while I was recovering from this horrifying reality that someone could coexist in this society with such a flaw, I had another one of societies evil outcasts rear its ugly head and inflict it's swarm of cuntiness upon me in the form of lies and gossip. Out of respect of this person, they shall not be named, because ironically I don't want to hurt this person, yet this person needs to be named and shamed on the basis that they are a bully. All I want to know is why this person felt they needed to lie to give my boss the impression that I had done something which if I had really done would of resulted me in being instantly dismissed from work. Why would you want to fuck someones life up when you know how much they are having to deal with, especially when you're the kind of person who is nice to everyone and treats others how he wants to be treated. I just don't get it. Answers on a fucking postcard please.

The person who did this to me also happens to be a Taurus.

Then to top it off, my complaint to Breast Cancer awareness was responded to. I was not satisfied with the action they informed me they were taking, and clearly took the side of the fundraiser despite her lying about what happened. My complaint clearly outlined that she couldn't of been mixing me up with someone else. I just felt that at the end of the week I had been inundated with lies, manipulation and deception, and felt so sad because how the hell does the world have so many people like this?

However, with a certain amount of bad comes an amount of good, and there are good things that come out of anything bad. The good I have realised are the following:

• My ex-boyfriend needs to be avoided under every circumstance, even in apocalyptic maximum death scenarios

• The jacket is no longer missed as its probably drenched in Cameron's bad energy and cheap Hollister cologne

• That analysing a situation obsessively can benefit you in the same way a detective solves a case

• I am nicer than most people, thats why I have a small group of likeminded friends rather than loads of faux friendships defined by facebook photos of the same sideways head pose.

Greg comes back to England in 3 weeks.

The Pleasure Principle?

I've ridden the past fortnight like some emotional roller coaster, but not a Nemesis or an Oblivion, more like some really dangerous tea cups at the fair, though tea cups spin round I guess I have been going round and round and round and round... pleasing everyone, even people who I feel don't deserve my sympathetic attention. I'm talking about you, Captain Canada. He finally got a job so is moving, so now he can shut up about the dilemmas and worries that over-educating yourself into such a specific career that you're left pretty much paying for a one way ticket to a premature midlife crisis. Some people are satisfied with owning their own picket fence but I don't care much for suburbia. It's false perfection as we all know is a front for people who can't admit that they have problems or feelings, a whitewash to cover the sad fact that they make daily decisions based on what they think other people think of them. The paint peeled thanks to TV and film and my point is you can work and stress yourself out for this ultimate goal so that by the off chance someone else might be thinking what you want them to think, but the point is we all still wipe our ass after having a shit and frankly I don't care about your problems.

I feel bad for Captain Canada though. Through his generosity and care is a small boy, who threw himself into a world he believes he can make, but it doesn't belong to him. How can you protect a person who thinks they always know best? He is going to give me his bike when he leaves. It makes me feel like a man in a world where 'real men' need to prove their masculinity by plucking their eyebrows.

Yesterday a certain pattern repeated itself with my ex boyfriend and I initially wondered how far and to what extent would a normal person go to keep in contact with someone they were once with. I have over the last year felt extremely pressured to keep a friendship with my ex, through being bullied and harassed to being emotionally blackmailed by him. However I feel differently because I simply don't care (the stage where you don't even bother telling the people you told about the time before). However, I do wonder how I could be such an influence on someones life by not actually doing anything, and you know what they say, even supermodels get lonely. I however believe supermodels are really busy, and if you spend your time pining after someone or something, then you're not helping your situation and you find something worth while to do or a good cause to live for rather than attending to your own selfish emotional needs. Pull your head out your ass cos the light is actually switched ON.

I have encountered people and exchanges all week with a mixture of nice and nasty. I feel like including a couple of lists so here are two lists of things that have made me really angry and happy over the last fortnight. I'll start with the anger list, get the bad out first:

BAD

• reading terrible reviews on google about my estate agents
• general estate agent paranoia
• more snow
• girl stabbed on bus
• having to get bus from moseley with previous bullet point's paranoia
• being heavily armed with sharp kitchen cutlery enroute to pussy palace
• fundraiser bitch ruining my day and being a cunt. for the complaint see the end of the post.
• party cancellation due to "a bad feeling"
• having to reassure a number of girls over problems that seem so trivial. what are friends for though!
• running out of skins and having to roll a spliff with a page from the bible
• cunts of solihull being, well, cunts
• having to pay extra months rent because im lazy and never read my post

GOOD

• a cat
• moving went exactly as planned
• full hope of receiving full deposit
• red wine
• bonus due at end of month
• sense of organisation that just comes from nowhere
• general contentment
• stew and dumplings
• mothers day fun (i got her lillies)
• an abundance of cannabis
• realising that if there is something i dont want at pussy palace, there are 2 men willing to burn it for me
• Captain Canada finally getting a job 

Pussy Palace is amazing. It's probably the best place ever because it is warm and safe. Everyone has been helpful with moving and helping me settle in. I've only stayed there once but it's so near Steve's that it's no effort at all to move between the two. The second Monday away was Ben's birthday and I took him out for dinner because a few days before I think he realised that to get my attention and for me to be nice you'd have to have some sort of problem that involves loneliness. When I told him I was on to him and that I wasn't amused he changed his tune, but I took him out nevertheless because I really like Cote and I am glad because I was served the most succulent chicken I've ever sunk my beak into. I got him pissed beforehand at Island on my favourite cocktail (Zombie), whilst letting him talk his usual pointless small talk between intervals of proclaiming that he doesn't get drunk easily despite the zombie which had clearly gone straight to his head. I reminded him that Chinese people only need to have one drink and they are gone for the whole night. We then proceeded to the restaurant where I unknowingly made him cry by ranting about my life (I'd had wine and was on social and political auto-witter) and then him telling me how good I am. How does that white picket fence look now? Cos I just drove through it. I hate it when he cries, it's a little bit pathetic. He cried when I told him about how I was bullied at school. Surely it should be the other way round?

Oh and I made friends with an entire glee club from Florida via Chatroulette. I was bored and decided to see if I could fool some American girls into believing I was straight and seducing them with my accent but ended up listening to a guy singing a bit like Whitney Houston. I hope to meet them one day and join their group. My grandparents are in Florida at the moment, maybe she should meet them for me.

Picture updates...

 A quick sketch of mine 

My new cat reading up before the big spell

you keep me under your spell

When Steve saw these photos, he commented on the emptiness in my eyes. They were all taken around 'that time' where I felt like I was losing myself. But I never looked at these pictures of myself in the way he did. What shocked me was his immidiate shock when he saw them. He said I looked empty, thin, distant. I was doing a lot of coke at the time and having a nervous breakdown. I constantly listened to Desire, whilst phasing in and out of coke induced comas at my apartment on Newhall Street.

something's got a hold of me

The weekend (which for me is Saturday night, Sunday and Monday) was well spent consisting of activities such as creating our own playing cards and having a general laugh. I felt a lot more relaxed knowing that Monday wasn't haunting me, like some old cloaked hag, possibly the Scottish widow's mother in law, leading me down the torturous path that i have been accustomed to so lately. I knew that i was free to spend the day how i wished, which would be spent relaxingly and productively.

During the weekend I finally sorted out the whole spotify situation as I needed to renew my membership and now  i get access to it on my phone, which now more or less defeats the object of ever getting an ipod as i get free access to any music on my phone that i listen to on my head phones when I'm in transit anywhere. like living alone, it was one thing i was in denial about when I did without it. likening myself to some neo traditionalist i told myself and others that i didn't like this isolation and disconnection with the outside world, but when on the train i think its really improved my mood now the low life scum have been blocked out with great music.

also at the weekend i received two more books off Steve- one was a small book of cat quotations, the other an interiors book by Laura Ashley that Steve was foolishly going to donate to charity. i love Laura Ashley and am so glad that I have acquired this book, its given me some important points of reassurance which has reminded me to approach the whole making my new room nice with patience but also some aesthetic ideas that go with that whole Laura Ashley look combined with the minimal and tranquil style i want to achieve.

On Monday I got stoned and listened to music endlessly whilst lying on the floor next to the heater. I missed how much I liked putting my headphones on, listening to anything I wanted and day dreaming. I felt grateful with my honest appreciation for technology and realised that I was just suppressing change in the past, when i claimed i could live without nice phones, computers and music, similar to realising that living alone was a load of shit and that I am actually too young to turn into a hermit just yet.

After more mini revelations about stuff that I've forgotten about now, I got up and went to my flat to collect the rest of my clothes and to clear up, ready to be moved out; a task I really didn't feel like I was going to feel like doing but ended up being a pleasant and straightforward and an enjoyable task which I put thanks to being nicely stoned, music to accompany my journey and a deeply relaxing weekend full of achievement mixed with debauchery. I've not thought this clearly in a long time.

When I got back I of course had a spliff to look forward to and some nice food and a good early night infused with lavender and I realised as I slipped into unconsciousness that I had experienced the perfect day off. It doesn't take much to please me.

The rest of week has been comfortable routine. I've had work and obviously I've been at Steve's, enjoying hearty meals, nice spliffs and endless Simpsons. It doesn't really get much better than that we declared.

Yesterday was a busy and tiring day for me. The last day of each month brings us stock take, the day where we painstakingly count every product in the shop so they can measure how much we have been robbed or over ordered on. It takes all day. I then agreed to do Zumba with Katie and Cassie which is taught by one of our Christmas temps we've re-employed, a 17 year old boy, which makes this whole experience truly bizarre. After zumba, which is basically energetic whore dancing to terrible music that whores like, I went back to my nans, had a bath I was too tired to appreciate and early night in bed.

And today's the first day of March so we can now well and truly tell February to fuck off. What a pointless month, sometimes I wonder if January is better, but then again we did have National Suck Your Hair Off Day, so in hindsight, a lot was done.