Running for charity

I didn't think very much when I signed up to do the British 10k race - but I do remember looking at the submit button before committing to run for OCD-UK.

It's a charity I found whilst doing some research, and it's been quite an eye opener... So with emotions running high I've decided to do something for them whilst doing something for myself, too.

I'm just not quite sure what Mr Stoner is going to say when I tell him what charity I'll run for - maybe I just don't tell him at all.

Anyway, with the IKEA mattress delivered just half an hour ago I can now spend the rest of the afternoon at the gym. Or maybe having a coffee first? Coffee!

ROFL

So there I was browsing old posts when I came across a real beauty - I got words mixed up. Instead of calling someone a whinge, I said something else. With a lovely smile.

Minge.

Yeah that would help then if I wanted to get rid of someone trying to chat me up. Sorry, I'm still laughing, and I apologise to the whole of the English population out there, seriously.

99ers and losing weight, strangely unrelated

Gotta love those cute ice cream vans - we got two of those in Romford, well at least that's the ones I see. One's always outside TK Maxx, the other on South Street (which, technically, is the High Street so someone rename them, please).

Since they're always in the same place, surely the council could help them out with a bit of jizz? Because so far, I've only ever seen them with the engines running. And that, quite frankly, ain't on.

On a lighter note, Mr Stoner seems to be terribly loved up again which is cute and I'm loving every moment. Back on the meds and with big plans for the future, I like to think it's got something to do with me - but that's another story. So we're back browsing flats in Bromley and discussing if a 150 quid wardrobe from Argos is a goer (of course, it isn't - over my dead body).

I'm still waiting for my Thinz to arrive - when in South Africa a few years ago (The post is still here) we bought a couple of those pills purely as a drug replacement. Apparently there were like Speed. Great, we thought! Didn't do much though.

A few years on I'm hoping to cheat my body into eating less - because God knows I've fucking tried but my flesh is very weak, as weak as my mind really.

IKEA

Ok, I love IKEA. The whole concept is brilliant. Flatpack, go get it yourself from the warehouse, buy an electric screwdriver... I mean, it's genius!

Moving on to generation online shopping, they seem to have followed through their 'cheap is good' motto and have appointed not only a crap delivery company, but also hired brainless knobends for the customer service.

Granted, the bed was cheap, including two memory foam mattresses and delivery I've spent just over 300 quid. But delivering a double bed with a single mattress, at what point did anyone think that order is complete?

So one week later, they have finished their warehouse search and since nothing has been found, a new mattress was ordered for me. Which means another week's wait and another day off work.

Which is fine by me, it's not busy and I love a day off, and I'm just using the old mattress in the new bed. Not fussed, really. But it's not exactly great service, is it. So I'll have to wait until I get it delivered before I can ask for compenstation - and I'll make sure I'll spend the vouchers in the shop and not online!

Lights on, nobody in

Ok then, I'm a shit girlfriend.

I can't name his second football team. I don't remember the rugby team he supports. I just about remember his birthday but recall a wrong position he plays in.

I'm shit, really.

Morning madness

Standing in Exmouth Market's Starbucks I looked out only to see the "hole in the wall" bloke blowing raspberries to someone. Imagine my relief when it turned out that someone was a little girl in a pushchair...

Ironing

I fucking hate it. I'm looking at the iron right now (yes, while typing, I'm great like that), over to the pile of clothes I need to do, great big sigh... You get the picture. I don't need a cleaner, but I think I'll get myself an ironing lady. Fuck it, cleaning and ironing lady.

I mean, there's so much stuff I could be doing instead of ironing!

1. Watch Heroes. Why did nobody tell me how cool Heroes is? Fuck you all!
2. Sneakers shopping - I need a new pair, urgently
3. Massages. I sooooo want one. Neck and shoulders. No "you're a little tense, darling" jokes please, I know I am!
4. Call my best mate I haven't spoken in about two months (time flies, indeed)
5. Read. One of the 7 books I either haven't finished or not started yet. Serves me right for picking reading material because it will make me look clever on the tube, instead of something I fancy reading.
6. Book a riding holiday. I think I need it. That's the one with real horses, chaps.
7. Get ready for Dublin. Which brings me back to the ironing, I need to get it done, together with a bit of a clean.

"Just to see if I would care"

When the current Mr Stoner told me he had OCD a few weeks into our blossoming relationship, I didn't have a grasp of what that would or could mean.

OCD, that's those people washing hands and checking a million times if a door is locked, or that's what I thought.

I didn't know it would mean that he had to say something in his head until it sounds right. Even when he told me, I didn't realise it could take minutes. Hours. Or days.

When he said he was worrying about people a lot, I thought he just cared a bit too much. I didn't realise it meant that they will die if he does or doesn't do something.

I've got an easy way out now, I have the chance to leave and not look back. And right now I don't know what I'm going to do.

It's not a binding contract, honest

I do have my clever moments but most of the time I'm somewhere floating about in La-La-Land, and it's easy to catch me off guard.

Well it's happened two days ago, gone 8pm, doorbell. I've got video entry and this dude outside tells me he's here for gas & electricity, holding his badge up. Since I had spoken to my supplier only a week ago, I just let that bloke in thinking he was going to check the readers downstairs.

Moments later he's at the door of my flat, asking if I was the tenant that had lived here before. To cut the story short - he was from npower telling me "I was still on the expensive supply with eon" and if I would be ok with npower ringing me to give me cheaper prices.

Sure enough, and he starts filling in some form. Watching over his shoulder I notice it says "contract" at the top and has a direct debit agreement slip as well. He keeps telling me that it's not a contract and shows me the "next steps" in the brochure conventiently covering the word "contract" with his hand.

I told him I wouldn't be signing anything tonight and I think he got the message that I was awake enough to realise he was trying to fuck me over.

His reply? "Oh it's because I'm black, isn't it, don't trust the black man".

He'd left me with the brochure including the contract. Of course it WAS a contract. Of course it's legally binding with a 14 days cool off period. However, had I believed what he told me (that it's not a contract) and waited for the confirmation, those 14 days would have been over and I'd been in the doo-doo, potentially.

I kid you not - what a f*cking moron accusing me of being racist because I pulled him up? Twat. Npower should better check on their representatives practises.

Everton away... in ... Dublin!

Everton away, lovely weekend trip up north, couple of drinks before, after and in between? Not if that's supposed to happen over Easter, because with any bank holiday, the train lines are fucked at least somewhere in the country. And that's usually the part I was going to need.

So with a train trip out of the picture, there's always the coaches... well had it been the team coach, okay - but I won't share a 6 hour round trip with West Ham's finest (train spotters) on a coach that doesn't allow drinks.

And the car, well the car is great to get there, but who would be mad enough to stay off the sauce just to make sure someone is sober enough to drive back the next day?

A bit of creativity was needed, and it manifested itself in my friend H who suggested we should watch the game in Dublin instead. Dublin? Fooking Oireland?

So we're off to Dublin, it's great, I've never been anyway - and my first ever Guiness is long overdue!

Sneaking back in

I feel like Paris Hilton staggering out into the flashlights after a good night out when she's just spent 4 weeks in rehab - well make that a year in my case...

Not that any celeb would spend that much time in rehab anyway. The Priory and others seem to work wonders within only a couple of days, releasing their loaded (see what I did there?) clientele back into the open arms of their wired fake friends. Maybe I'm being harsh but that's not how "getting clean" works.

Anyway, my antics are long gone and after nearly year off any sort of drugs, I'm leaving my self-imposed rehabilitation programme and get back to what I love - having a mighty knees up around some football game!

Monthly Rail Travelcards

Living in Romford doesn't only mean they've got orange girls and hair-straightener-straight-hair boys for shop assistants, it also means I'm taking the train into London. Yes, ladies and gents, I'm actually outside the tube net!

Someone figure that for me tho: It's still zone 6 and part of London transport. But I can't use my oyster card because it's a railway station without a reader. I need to buy a paper ticket for which, if I want a monthly one, I need to get a photocard from. That photocard I can only get issued at tube stations.

YOU WHAT???

I don't know if you remember me...

... but I used to post here quite regularly. I'm the misfit, the miserable cow, the maniac. A lot has happened in the 235 days since I posted last...

Living in Romford now - oooh I can hear you, but it really isn't Chav City. I love the market and the flat is just brilliant. I spend a lot of time at home now!

And I'm going to the gym regularly - I haven't checked lately but I'm getting fitter, that's for sure.

Mr Stoner is no more either - we broke up back in January and although we still see each other loads I'm now single in my own mind, although not really "back on the market" since I can't be bothered, really.

I've got some really good friends, a nice job (it's still the same company, slightly different job, and we're all moving soon hopefully near Liverpool Street Station) and a roof terrace - it's 15 days to go until I'm 30 and I'll be savouring the last days as a 20-something!

Tevez and Mascherano

They're ours. It's fishy as fuck that deal but who cares, I shall be enjoying the ride, my a.r.s.e.!

Got two tix for Brazil/Argentina at the Emirates today and Mr Stoner don't know about it yet (I think he didn't sleep all night) so that will hopefully be a nice surprise. Better be at 45 notes a ticket anyway.

Else - not much to report, getting bit nervous now travelling up to P'boro later tonight or tomorrow morning...

Life is good!

Top of the league

We are. Today at least. I'll enjoy it while it lasts (until tonight that is).

Not impressed with last nightt's performance. Pards has played us 5-3-2, with Yossi on the bench and Matty out it's left us with serious cracks in the midfield and awful long balls into nowhere. I haven't seen that many rubbish first touches in a long while... But then again, it was an away game against a fully geared up side so I won't complain and take the point, hoping we'll be back to our 4-4-2 next week at Anfield.

Watching the match on Al-Jazeera (sp?) in a pub full of inbreads wasn't too great. Since I'm not smoking I bloody hate others smoking around me. Ex smokers are the worst? Indeed. Although I do have a sneaky one here and there...

Meet the parents

Sunday morning after the Saturday night (of which I can't remember much so I bet it was good) I woke up at 8am, hung over, totally detached from the world out there...

But still went to watch A play a friendly, trying to hold conversation with other people watching, not good... But we managed to have the "phase 2" talk, well he talked and I listened, that is.

I hate the fact that I can't express myself the way I could speaking my first language, and although it all scares the living shit out of me I'm happier than ever. So it's all good, it's going somewhere, and we're onto something good, I think, and I wasn't that relaxed since puberty kicked in when I was 13.

Greedy fucks

I found out recently that my bank is charging me £125 every time I go over my overdraft limit - which happens quite a lot. Originally my card would block at the limit, so no harm done, but that's changed for some reason last year... I must have paid over £1000 in "administration fees", fucking joke, and this month it was looking like happening again (getting paid after bank holiday weekend and that).

So I call my bank, excepting the worst, getting all the frustration out (see above) and the girl goes "well then how about just tripling your ofterdraft limit". Err. Thanks, double is fine.

Besides the fact that the charges are absolutely ludacris (and it's my own fucking fault that I haven't stepped in the first time I spotted the fee on my statement, stupid cow) I must say that was the most easy "I have to speak to my bank" stuff I've done in my life. In England. I'm impressed!

I'm still alive, I think...

Football has well and truly landed... Out on the lash from lunchtime Saturday, after some pints of Stella my traditional "let's get the shots in" opener... that's when things started to get messy and all went blurry. Well. As I said, football has landed.

16 days left...

... until real football starts. In the meantime, I'll shoot off for a week in France, and what can I say - I'm not even looking forward to it, not because I don't like what's coming, more like because of what I'm leaving behind. Ah well, I'll survive.

Clubbing report - not

I pretty much knew it when I left the house on Saturday to make my way out to South London - the clubbing night wouldn't happen, at least not with me.

It was nice to see Jules again, he's just returned from his India trip, and Gregg and Anna of course. But the urge to call our dealer never really kicked in, and all I could think of was the horrible 3 hours between the last line and finally being able to sleep. And the crap day I'd have had on Sunday. So there you go. No clubbing, no drugs, and oh boy I enjoyed falling asleep that night without any problems.

We did discuss it briefly tho - what it does to you, and why users usually say it's overrated. The same for 'shrooms, pills, you name it. After years there's one thing I know - it's all in the inside.

Kitchen - check

Phew, made it, eventually - the kitchen is done! After scraping off the adhesive from the tiles, two layers of sealer and another two layers of colour intensifier I had a bad headache from the fumes but - it looks fantantastic!

Things happen... fast

Last week I started sending out my CV, just to see what response I get - well a good one obviously, as phone calls have started coming in.

The best of them from a company located near Portsmouth... I had a chat with the ma'm from the employment agency, and apparently I've ticked all her client's boxes - and I liked what she said about the company so I've asked her to pass on my details.

Portsmouth. Would I consider living there, would he come with me, would I leave without him? ... First things first - average train ticket to Waterloo is £20 and it takes only 1.5 hours - so I'd keep my season ticket.

Everything else needs sorting out, but by the looks of it - the party has started!

Weather forecast

Oh do fuck off... Temperatures will slowly fall from today's 31C to 27C on Saturday, until we finally get some rain on Sunday and the temperature at night fall below 18C. It's not fucking funny anymore, it's too cunting hot, I have a headache being airconned all day and once I leave the office I have to share the tube with a billion of sweaty and stinking peope stealing the fresh air I deserve after a hard day's work.

Alright, I'm bored, and there's no fresh air in the tube anyway, but please, can we have some fucking rain, please!

Say goodbye

So I've cleaned up my act, and it's time to say goodbye to my old life full of drugs, booze and men... I was thinking of having a proper send off this weekend with my man not being around, get my old mates all geared up and ready for one last big bash.

I've mentioned such thing to A and he wasn't overjoyed (can't blame him), but I have to do it. I'll probably end up leaving the party before midnight, stone sober and bored, because it's so not my scene anymore... but I want to, because I can.

Because you never held me back, you keep me from leaving.

No rush

I was pretty nervous this Friday, after we had our first big row last week, and I wasn't quite sure what to expect... Certainly not this: "What would you think if I moved down South".

So, three days and a lot of talking later he's handed in his notice today, starts looking for a new job, thinks of living in St. Albans or somewhere closer to London, we will move in a place together by the end of the year and I still can't believe this is all happening.

In the meantime, I've sent off a couple of applications myself, just to test my market rate - let's see what happens. St Albans is a place I could imagine settling down (I haven't lived in a place for longer than 18 months since I moved out of my parents' house when I was 17, mind you), and he could be just the one I could be settling down with, who knows.

New shores and that

My job hasn't been very challenging lately. After the initial three months of "get in there and turn it around" my enthusiasm slumped and the project, being on the right way again, hasn't been very interesting anymore.

It's made me think that I maybe shouldn't only look for something different, maybe I should try and go into contracting. Project work limited to a rather short period of time, teams usually close to collapse, the project itself way over budget and with a deadline the next day… would suit me well.

Besides… they pay ridicoulous amounts of money, but means on the other hand that I don't have a pension, private health care or even holidays unless I take care of it myself… Let's see. Certainly something I shall keep in mind.

DML DD 289

There's good news and bad news today. The bad news first - I'm bit over £700 in credit and it will take another 10 days until the salary comes in. The good news tho (and the reason why), my cheque for the season ticket has been cashed in by West Ham United. 30 days to go!

DIY shopping

DIY shopping
Originally uploaded by pepsipics.

Never a dull moment when I'm with my man... Love the pic, taken Saturday last week in at TopTiles in Beckton. Probably about the moment I totally fell for him, silly sod.

Shortly after we had our first huge fight, and I hate the fact we live so far away and I'm skint - I probably would have travelled all the way up north to get that straight again. But I couldn't, so I shall be keeping quiet until Friday... Won't be angry anymore by then anyway, I know it.

Week 12, going strong

When I left St. Albans last night and got the train back to London, it did feel a bit weird. That "it can't be that late yet" and "I don't want the weekend to be over already" numb feeling mixed with that insanely happy grin from somewhere inside.

Truly, madly, deeply?

I think so. And there's been some moments when I thought I'm not the only one.

Tick list

So I've been to the world cup, and I kinda travelled Europe (not in a camper van, but still seen France, Belgium, Holland, Germany and Switzerland). Checked, ticked, off the list.

What else then? I don't smoke anymore, I haven't done any Charlie or other drugs since my birthday, I rarely get drunk (and not that drunk that I'm doing completely wank stuff, so apologies it's gone boring lately).

I'm an ex-smoker (day 12)

... and it doesn't really bother me. Huh. When Andy left last night I remembered having a pack of fags in the living room. And I had one. A half one. Then it got to me again and I had another one. A quarter, max.

Today I'm back at work trying to find other reasons to have a break, but I'm not really missing it. I'm an ex-smoker on day 12 and it was a piece of piss.

Hello and goodbye

Managed to survive the 10 days with only one minor fight on a generally wank day (full moon it was), my man thinking my folks don't like him (bless him), and I for one am not sure if I still want to... go on. Err. What?

See, last night was the first night on my own again, and I didn't like it. I spoke to his dad today and I thought he was sweet. I'm looking back thinking we had a faboulous time. We can talk, laugh, eat. I had a book with me (the "emergency book") in case I get bored but I didn't even read one page. I like it having him in the same room or near me and I love the way he makes me laugh. I've even stopped smoking (get this!!!). Sounds pretty much like I'm in love but I'm not.

I don't think there's a single picture of me or us. He's mentioned he doesn't know if this is going anywhere serious. There's a lot of stuff going on in his life he doesn't feel like sharing.

So it might be it's just I wouldn't let myself falling for him. Or we're just better off as mates. Time will tell.

Germany here we come

So it's all sorted now - leaving Thursday night to catch the ferry over to Belgium, then all the way to Germany - we have to be in Gelsenkirchen on Saturday 1st July for the England game. In case Switzerland gets through to the semis, next stop will be Dortmund on the 4th, if not, we might head to Munich for the English playing the semi on the 5th.

Then there's the final in Berlin... not too sure 'bout that one. Seeing my folks doesn't wash with going to Berlin (over 500 miles, each way) - and then there will be the sheer masses leaving the town after the final whistle, with us. Reckon it's going to take us 10-12 hours back to Dunkerque, which doesn't quite fit in with our plans to catch the ferry that Monday night. Well... We'll see. If the Switz (or English) lose the semis there's still a match in Stuttgart.

We have a tent, a car, an airbed, a map and a football. Sorted. Let's go!

One step closer

Premiership fixture list came out yesterday at 10am - I faked sudden illness to sneak out of the meeting and have a glimpse. Charlton at home first game - ok, Charlton ain't very exciting but it's a home game, so I'll get to see everyone again. Tuesday after that it'll be Watford away before it's Liverpool away on the Saturday 26 August - for which I'm checking flights, trains and hotels now. Roll on Premiership!

Things I want...

... and things I don't want. Spoke to my best friend last night, haven't heard of her for a couple of weeks. She's very very very happy with her man - they talk about moving together, kids, marriage, the lot. I loved it - I could hear it how happy she is.

She's asked me about A. If he's the man for me? I couldn't say. If he makes me happy. Not today I said, after all that happened during the day. I laughed it off but it got me thinking. I want to be with somebody there is a chance I'll have a future with. I wonder if I'm strong enough this time.

Debt free

... I've done it. Paid off the ten grand. Written statement and confirmation here in front of me. 'tis pretty amazing feeling. Now all that's left is a grand or two on my credit card, but that's nothing compared... Thank fuck for that, I'm back.

Tuesday limps

It's the same every Tuesday morning, limping into office... last night's football training has taken its toll, it's my ankle this time.

But anyway, I'm only two weeks away from my holiday - I've moved heaven and earth to get the first week in July off. Even had to get a temp in, no shit (well I didn't think it was necessary but it just looks good). And now it's official, since yesterday, I can go - but can't get hold of Andy, who needs to put in his holiday as well. If he's changed his mind I'll kill him.