Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Whining Twattery (Includes Moderate Sweariness)

I have been on a blogging hiatus. It has not been deliberate, it's just that I don't like writing the sort of whining twat of a post that I have felt like writing. I have, however, written it anyway. Well done me.

I have found the last few weeks very difficult. I have been rigid with the overwhelming conviction that I don't fit in. Anywhere.

I am staying at my parents' house this week, because I needed to be in London on Sunday and again on Thursday, Friday and Saturday.

The crux of my problems have come down to two, simple facts: I am a ridiculous moron and will, given half a chance, persuade myself that I am superfluous to everyone's requirements.

(Any ex-boyfriends reading this must be thinking, oh, yes. That's why I got bored with her, she is a mental. Not a cool, interesting mental, just an insecure girl who knows how unattractive insecurity is and so lies about it until it is too late.)

Although I have had some cool times in Manchester over the last few weeks.

On bonfire night we went with some of Ben's friends and their beautiful little children to a park and watched the startled looks on the two-year-old's face as the sky was filled with firey spiderwebs. Then we went back to their house in Moss Side for baked potatoes with chili and mulled wine.

Ben and I smuggled a bottle of rum into the cinema when we went to see the Quantum of Solace and came out giggling and declaring it to be the best film we'd ever seen. We got a taxi home and I swear I heard the driver snort derisively as I listed the reasons that I thought the new Bond girl and I could actually be really good friends (although perhaps we wouldn't lie next to each other on the beach).

I went to meet a band that need a new singer, and they were lovely and we jammed (man), then they sent me some tracks to write over for next time.

Ben has cooked me many delicious meals and I helped him tidy his house before he left (although admittedly at one point my "help" just involved me wearing a sombrero watching him move furniture).

We went to a gig in a church in Salford, where we sat on the floor on cushions, drinking lager out of the can and watching Petra Jean Phillipson. Ben and I chatted to her afterwards. I was initially too shy, but Ben shoved me forward like a pushy mother, and soon Petra and I were chatting about our respective "I'll Make You A Star, Baby" moments. (Mine was when I was at an "audition" that turned out to require everyone to pose for pictures in "lingerie" selected by the producers. I flatly refused, only to be asked "is it because you think you're a bit fat?" by one of the other girls.) I loved Petra. When we were leaving, either Ben or I made a joke about having a great record deal for her, if she'd just come out the back, and she laughed and then said, with a completely straight face, "Yeah, alright, but I don't do anal." Her manager nudged her and squeaked "Petra! We're in a church!". We also chatted to the amazing supporting act, John Fairhurst, with whom I have since exchanged emails about doing some work together.

I have been with my Grandma to Asda and have eaten a million fairy cakes with lemon curd.

I went back to London to to a children's party dressed as a princess, which went well if you discount the one child who threw up, and the fact that all the others seemed to think this was their cue to hurl as well. By that point all the parents were there and watched me try and convince twenty children that this was not a vompetition, and that another game of musical statues (around the sick) was the best thing to do.

On Saturday we went to Ben's Mum's house in Hitchin, to go into London the next day. Ben and his co-traveller/actor Will were leaving straight from the show to the airport to catch their flight to Nepal. Ben's Mum and I went into London on Sunday late morning (Ben had left earlier), and met his Dad and my Dad for lunch, then went along to the show, which was excellent. In the interval we saw Ben, who said he wasn't sure whether he might have to leave before the end of the show. He hugged me and kissed me goodbye. He was wearing his costume, a first world war uniform, and I was wearing my vintage tea dress, so it felt all very poignant, although it wasn't, really. He had to leave before the end of the show, but he called me from the airport. In the middle of our conversation he said this: "...oh, hang on, baby. Will, why does that say 'flight closing'?...(a mumbling in the background)...Oh, shit. Um, I think I have to go now. Love you! Bye!". They made it, but they did have to abandon their pints, which I suppose is suitably dramatic.

Writing all this makes me realize that it has, in loads of ways, been a lovely few weeks. I suppose feeling lost and alienated is inevitable at the moment. I knew it was inevitable, but I didn't think that feeling lost and alienated would make me feel quite so, well, lost and alienated. I want to make friends, so I have been in contact with a few people and signed up for a bellydance class next Wednesday. I will also find a 'job', although I do have a few more princess parties lined up. (I am also going to be a Santa's elf at Christmas, somewhere in Central London. When I know where I will tell everybody I know. I am not joking.)

I have just felt really insecure, which is fucking irritating, to be honest. I have an indescribably huge fear of being "needy", and as a result I just go quietly insane and utterly paranoid. O, how I wish I was a tantrum thrower. I would love to be described as "firey". Yes! Firey people are cool, and a bit scary. I have never scared anyone in my life, and as a result am doomed always to feel inconsequential and paralysed by my own self-doubt. It is fun spending time with me when I am like that.

Self-indulgent self-analysis! It is excellent, and doubtless why blogging was invented. (At Christmas it will be elf-indulgent elf-analysis, something I find disproportionately amusing.)

It is a transition period, I suppose, and to be expected. It is hard, though. Last Thursday I sat on a bench in central Manchester and cried. I am so tired of sitting places and crying, as I have done in every city in which I have lived. I couldn't bear to call Ben, because then he would know for sure that I am not some cool, confident woman but just a boring, moronic loser. I could not call my friends because they would think the same things, and anyway my battery was low.

If you have read this far you can stop now. I'll be fine, of course, it is just my narcissism playing up again, it makes me tetchy. I wish I was an elf all the time. Having bells on my feet would make things so much better.

16 Comments:

Blogger Badass Geek said...

A sombrero always helps when moving furniture.

Glad to hear that you're still alive, and moderately well.

1:30 pm

 
Blogger justme said...

I sooooooo want to come and see you as an elf! Please PLEASE let us know where you will be!!
Its bound to difficult settling in somewhere new, but you do sound as though you have done some nice things and met some nice people. And the bellydancing class sounds like a geat idea!
Hang on in there hun......it will all get better. Honest!

2:05 pm

 
Blogger Jaywalker said...

I also want to see you as an elf.
Your last few weeks sound fuller and braver than several years of my life. You are clearly doing great, and a little crying on a bench is entirely to be expected. Let me know if you need any more vegetable animals to cheer you up.

WV is "sweatics"!

2:10 pm

 
Blogger TBRRob said...

Trust me you don't want to be a firey, tantrum thrower.

It leads to lots of over the top, pointless arguments.

And brawls on the tube.

3:49 pm

 
Blogger Léonie said...

BG - Well actually, it was quite a heavy sombrero, so it meant that every time I turned my head the momentum of the hat would keep it going, so I ended up with a sore neck. But, yeah, I was probably more useful in my capacity as amusing hat wearer, in retrospect.

Justme - Thanks. I think I just need to keep reminding myself to hang in there. I will definitely let everybody know where I will be as an elf. I have no shame about things like that. The more people who can be cheered up by me in a pair of green tights, the better.

JW - Thank you, I felt like such a twat sitting on that bench snivelling at the pigeons, but I suppose it's to be expected. What does the last bit of your comment mean, please? I am baffled, a bit.

TBRRob- (what a mysterious name! Who are you? ) I know, I know.
I am too sensible to throw tantrums, but sometimes I would just like to. Sadly I fear I am destined for a life of being silently cross, and then just getting over it. Curses.

4:05 pm

 
OpenID pinkjellybaby said...

It sounds like you're doing pretty well for your first few weeks! Better than I did when we moved to Spain anyway! And went crazy on The Boy.... luckily he has the patience of a saint!

6:29 pm

 
Blogger Jaywalker said...

Oh, I meant 'word verification'. I was trying to be all down with the kids. You know, those letters you have to type.
Sweatics, I think,is a new exercise craze.

This time it is 'getaln' which is a variation on gestalt, or a short way of saying 'get alan'. Probably. WV is the oracle.

8:25 pm

 
Blogger Ys said...

Self-indulgent self-analysis! It is excellent, and doubtless why blogging was invented.

That really made me laugh because that is exactly why blogging was invented... right? ;)

I know you already know it but I'll say it again: things will get better and you're bound to feel alienated and lonely in the first few weeks. Hang on in there; you'll be back to your usual self in no time :D

7:41 pm

 
Anonymous smith3000 said...

I hope you're feeling better. Your man will be back in no time at all. And Manchester isn't so very bad. But just wait til it gets to the rainy season ..

11:40 am

 
Blogger Doughboy said...

a million fairy cakes? really. come on, seriously, though? a million? hmmm. that can't be healthy.

if you are feeling the need to sit down and cry in, for instance, a train station, my advice to you, as an unqualified doctor is this:

read Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept by Elizabeth Smart (available in some bookshops and all libraries)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/By_Grand_Central_Station_I_Sat_Down_and_Wept

there's an extract here, but the whole book should be taken once a day, preferably before bed, until the feelings are under
control:
http://toffeedan.blog.co.uk/2006/09/06/by_grand_central_station_i_sat_down_and_~1101317

11:59 am

 
Blogger Jonathan said...

While you may be inbetween things, and having falling down moments all over the place, you still write the best blog posts.

p.s. baked potatoes with chilli rock.

12:00 pm

 
Blogger Miss Devylish said...

We all have those times.. and darlin, it doesn't help if you're 'fiery'. I would know. I'm one of those and I've scared quite a few people. It doesn't go over well in the office, I'll tell you that. But I've gone thru feeling small and insecure and completely marginalized across the board in anyplace I am - my band (which I quit), my work and the theatre I'm involved in - (which I've had to change my perspective and attitude) and at home (which I've had long talks w/ my roommate). It sucks. It's frustrating. But things will get better sugar.. Believe you're as strong as those around you think you are. I can tell from here and we've never met! You're a rockstar.. really and truly. Sending you hugs and chocolate! xo

5:15 pm

 
Blogger Clarissa said...

You are so cool without even realising it then. You are beautiful and sincere and I can just picture you skipping through the forest with bells on your feet and a unicorn / rainbow pony by your side. xxx, c

6:59 pm

 
Anonymous Unstable said...

Its great to know somebody as perfect as you feels bad about themselves. I take great comfort in this and therefore, I am currently untying the noose i have constructed for my demise. Hey i think its snowing.

7:22 pm

 
Blogger Hải Nguyễn said...

This comment has been removed by the author.

7:15 am

 
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8:53 am

 

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