Spend your time asking everyone else's permission. Then run away and hide.

Shock Horror....Britney Spears has a pussy!

Earlier today at work, somebody mentioned Britney Spears. In passing comment, I mentioned about all the pictures on the internet showing her out and about with her new best pal Paris Hilton. Of course, when you party with Paris, apparently it's customary to not wear any underwear.
I felt a little like Brian in Monty Python's Life Of Brian, where he talks about nonsense and yet a crowd of people congregate around him, listening intently.

I had nothing profound to say.
Just that I'd seen the pictures of Britney's pussy as she clumsily exited a car, wearing a skirt but forgetting those all important knickers.

So what is it?
I just don't get it?

Ok, so she's famous and the media have previously touted her as one of the most beautiful girls on the planet. A claim I've never agreed with, I hasten to add. But so what?
Does that mean she has the most amazing looking pussy in the world? Is her under-carriage sweeter smelling, in better proportion and sooo much more attractive than any other girl on the planet?
I think not.
And that's not because I've studied the pictures and compared with others. It's simply because a pussy is a pussy is a pussy. Ok, some of them might look nicer than others but who determines what a 'nice pussy' looks like?
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, surely!

Anyway....I found it difficult to believe that I was the only person at work who'd seen these pictures. Apparently I was.
Guys were literally stood there with jaw half open, almost salivating at the though that Britney had exposed her 'goods' once and for all.
For fucks sake, what is the world coming to!

It all got a little out of hand when guys were literally throwing their email addresses at me, asking to be emailed said pictures tonight.

Ok, enough about pussy.

I made the all important phone call today.
It didn't go well, but then again at least my vision of being laughed at down the phone didn't come to fruition either.
Apparently I have to wait a few more days for a phone call, an appointment and then a decision.
A lot of my impending doom immediate future is resting on this decision.

And there was me thinking Mortgage Companies were literally falling over themselves to lend people money. Not so in my case, it seems.

So not such a good night for me then. I will probably get a little drunk on some filthy cheap wine tonight and drown my sorrows while listening to Damien Rice tell me about his failed relationships.
I should be listening to The Magic Numbers really, in preparation for seeing them play live tomorrow night.
Maybe a good gig night is just what the doctor ordered.

Slow down baby and don't act crazy.

Today I should have made a phone call.

I came up with every excuse in the book.
I was too busy.
I knew I would be on the phone for a while and had something else coming up.
The times I phoned, I sat there listening to hold music and a girl telling me how important my call was to them.
Three times.
Each time, I gave it 15 minutes before I hung up and used that as another pitiful excuse to not face the music.

I'm dreading the call.
I'm dreading the laughter and sniggering.
I'm dreading the rejection.

Tomorrow....

It doesn't matter, It never really mattered at all.

Being at work is weird.

On one side of the coin it appears to be causing me more grief than usual.
On the other, I can smile at the thought of having this become a memory.
In the future.

JB avoids eye contact and only managed a grunt when I said "good morning" to him.
My immediate boss, Third Time Lucky seems to want to avoid the subject.
The other sales people just keep patting me on the back with their envy.

I have a big week ahead.
This could be a milestone to cross with regards to my future.
Any kind of future.

My future may be a little quakey....uncertain....
But I can't help from smiling inside and telling myself that I've made one of the best decisions in my life.
And above everything else....my heart is in a good place.
A safe place.

Woke up for the first time, the animals were gone. It's left this house empty now, not sure I belong.

Technically....I am unemployed.

But not unemployable.
There is a difference.

It's probably not the best thing, that I've just checked my finances and find that I'm already less than a hundred pounds from going over my overdraft limit.

That little voice that was telling me I was stupid, is now shouting and pointing.

'Cos if at first you don't succeed, dust yourself off and try again.

Tonight, I've typed out my resignation.

I told my Manager just over a week ago that my intentions were to leave the Company before the end of the year. Tomorrow, when I take this letter in, it will be made official.

I'm not quite sure how I feel.
I am leaving a good job, in respects of earning money (when the time is right). I still have a mortgage to pay, bills to clear and have something left to be able to eat. Leaving a job, with nothing to go to and all the responsibility I have may seem like nuts.
It's something I have to do.

I will take at least 7 days off over Christmas, the first time in over 10 years and hopefully start out on *insert new career here* in the new year.

Everything about my future is hanging in the balance.
I'm riding the numbers.
I gambling my hand.
I'm tossing those die. (is it die or di or even dice?)

Above all else, there's one thing I'm sure about.

Leave me out with the waste, this is not what I do.

I went to the movies Sunday night.

I watched "Saw III", but that's not important.
Movie trailers....
With every movie trailer, you get a voice. Well, not so much a voice, more of a the voice. It's a guy, it's deep and it's mean and it's moody.
I can't think of any film trailer I've seen that's had a girls voice over it. Telling us that this is "the film of the year", or what happened to the kids hitch-hiking when they took a wrong turn, or how it became one man's mission to free his name after being turned on by his own Company.

Why is this such a male dominated area?
I wouldn't be offended to watch a movie trailer with a girl voice over on it. Who would? Would it make such a difference to the trailer, having a female voice giving us the low down that we wouldn't want to go see that film?

I find the whole subject of movie trailer voice overs quite fascinating at the moment. Mind you, I've had a smoke.

Lights go out, the walls come tumbling down.

So when does the Honeymoon Period end?

When two people come together, however it's happened and embark on a relationship, it's well know to be what's known as The Honeymoon Period. That time period thought on as "wonderful", "magical", "amazing" and all those other sickly phrases.
Other people....friends and family must get sick of 'the partner' often being the topic of conversation. Especially when they are talking about something else but somehow the loved up person always manages to swing the subject matter around to their partner and their "wonderful" relationship.

This Honeymoon Period seems to have no rules. Sometimes it can last a week, sometimes a month, sometimes longer. And what defines the end of the swooning period?
Is it when you realise they have bad habits that you find annoying? You may have been suspicious about the dirty underwear lying around on the floor those couple of times, only to be lovingly forgiving when your partner explains it's not normally in their character.
Is it when they begin to show you traits of their true persona that they'd previously kept under wraps?
Is it when they don't call you as often, don't give you a huge hug when you see each other or would rather reach for the remote control instead of reaching for your hand?

Everybody is different, that much is plainly obvious. So then would it be reasonable to assume that for each person in the relationship, the end of the Honeymoon Period appears at different times.
And then what?

I found a place where we can boogie.

Alone at The Girl's house....

Oh the opportunity and possibilities!
In true 'creepy guy' style, I could be rummaging through her knicker drawer, prancing around her house naked, poking my nose into places where it doesn't belong or hell, I could even have a wank over the pillow she will be resting her head on tonight.
My 'creepy guy' genes appear to be missing as usual, so instead I've done the washing up, made the bed, cleaned out the particularly smelly 'presents' left by her cat in the litter tray, made myself a coffee and sat patiently on her PC until after 9am, when tickets for Damien Rice went on sale.

Today has started off well.
Good Karma appears to be coming my way for a change.

So do what you must do to find yourself. Wear another shoe, paint my shelf.

Some people at work appear to know I'm leaving.
So much for starting the conversation "Please keep this to yourself for the time being".

Muse saved me from a highly monotonous week.
Everything came together last night.

Damien Rice has made me cry tonight.

My journey has come to a point.
Crossroads.
Junctions.
Options.

What about me?

I've got my bags packed baby and I'm ready to go. Look at my eyes, rock steady, I promise you more.

I hate selling cars.

Consequently, sometime this afternoon I hi-jacked Third Time Lucky's (my boss) office and told him that even though it's not official yet....I'm aiming to leave before the end of the year. A lengthy conversation followed, climaxing with a handshake from him and wishing me luck with whatever I'm gonna do.
So what am I gonna do?
I'm not 100% sure yet. Not sure if I'm ever gonna be, but lots of things are pointing in the same direction.

No more suits, thank fuck. No more working every Saturday and most Sundays. No more having to answer to people above me. No more having to take shit for other people.

Last night I went to see Howard Marks at the Jongleurs club. I've not read his first book yet (it's next in the pile), but I've seen his DVD and he caught my attention. Not because of the obvious drugs connection, but because of his life. The guy has lived an amazing life!

Tomorrow night, I'm going to see Muse play live.
I've never seen them before, so I'm really excited about this one. I think they've played at 2 of the music festivals I've been to, but there must have been somebody else playing at the same time.
The Blagger is coming with me this time. At the beginning of the year, he'd never been to a gig before. That changed when I took him to see The Strokes. Then I moulded him a little with Radiohead at a small venue and now....now he's ready for an Arena style gig. He loves Muse, so it's gonna be a great night.

In work related news, I found out today that our afternoon receptionist, Posh Wannabe, has sent a picture of her 'topless' to the Big Boss, JB. Apparently she's also showed said picture to Sniffer and Third Time Lucky. What kind of girl is that? She has so many characteristics that I really don't like in a girl.
Saturday morning Mr Happy got fired.
Monday morning, his replacement starts.

What kind of fuckery are we? Nowadays, you don't mean dick to me!

Bling has been to visit tonight.

It's been like a breath of fresh air blown through my sullen thoughts.

I'm gonna sleep on it, but everything we talked about made sense.
I just need a little more time.
Of course, there's always the raising of the funds issue, but hey, I can only try, right?

It's funny to think that I'm trouble with my financial side already, then there's me considering getting into even more trouble.
What's that saying....?
"You have to speculate to accumulate".

Nothing has changed in my physical life. My shit money situation is still there, I miss The Girl terribly and work is still uber shit. And yet I feel....feel kind of liberated in a strange way. Like my senses are coming together and I'm actually seeing something different, something purposeful, something rewarding.
Attractive.

Amy Winehouse.
She's got my attention.

You know it's now or never, take a chance on rock and roll.

That's how crap I felt last night....
I ate an entire Terrys Chocolate Orange.

I like to be the one doing favours, not calling them in.
I've not given it the respect it deserves, nay, demands.
And it leaves me feeling vunerable.

I've had a couple of smokes and I'm wallowing in the nostalgic sounds of Boston.
Boston for fucks sake!

9 hours at work today felt more like 20.
Everything in Twin Peaks mode.
Tales of woe, spins of yarn.
And it leaves me so disinterested.

I like to dream about handing him that letter.
Watching his eyes bounce along the lines.
The Dear John.
The goodbye.

Aah, some Depeche Mode. Just in time too. I was about to 'air guitar' myself to death.
Some sanity returns, albeit temporarily.

Show me a way to the exit. Look at my hands, see them shaking.

The good times never last.

I get back home from spending time with The Girl to find my house alarm going off. I don't know how long it had been going off for, only the lights were flashing, there was no no audible alarm. This has happened before a couple of times. It's very daunting when I open the front door, disable the alarm and peek around the door to see what I fear the most.
All I can tell is that it's zone 1, which is the front door. I presume it's the post that gets picked up by the sensor.

Amongst the letters were a few from my bank.
Oh joy!
It appears I am in arrears. I waved bye bye to my overdraught limit a good few days ago and have been sailing into penalty city ever since.
I hate money. I hate the fact that it's such an easy thing to worry about and yet....in all things real, it's so insignificant.
Whoever said "money is the root of all evil" was pretty close.

Oh, and my mum has to go into hospital for an operation. She's on "urgent" status....whatever that means.

It appears that it doesn't matter how great your weekend was, there's always somebody close by, who's ready to piss on your chips.

Baby if I act like that, flipping my blond hair back. Push up my bra like that, I don't wanna be a stupid girl.

I am at The Girl's house.
Oh the cheek of it!
Whilst she is upstairs taking a shower, here I sit frantically hitting the keys in (hopefully) the correct order, so when she comes back downstairs, she will be none the wiser.

Already today, I have been treated to a birthday cake. My birthday is tomorrow, but time constraints have meant the cake was baked, the "happy birthday" song was sung and slices were distributed a day early.
Nobody has ever made me a cake before. Not only that, but so far I have concluded that it doesn't contain untraceable poison considering I am still alive 3 hours post consumption.
The little voice in my head is saying, "Give it another 6 months and you will be sleeping with one eye open!"

In a few minutes, we will be getting ourselves all smartened up to travel into the city centre to watch Pink play live. Again, a little premature for my birthday, but attempts to persuade Pink to postpone the concert until tomorrow didn't get past her Management.
I've never seen her live before. At previous music festivals, she's always clashed with somebody else who's been even slightly more appealing.
That said, I'm really looking forward to watching her sing her little heart out and my fingers are crossed for some scantily clad dancers bumping and grinding. Oh come on....who can resist a bunch of fit guys in hotpants throwing shapes?!

Edit:

Pink was fantabulous!

She put on real show, with dancers, a huge stage, a great light show, gymnastics in the air and hit after hit after hit. I don't think I quite realised just how much I liked Pink.
I overlooked the lack of guys in hotpants as her dancers....quite soon after I had a peek of her boob when she lent over....just a little too much!
Energetic dancing, lots of costume changes and the things she and her dancers did in the air, being suspended by what looked like strips of ribbon, was just amazing. The hits kept coming and the whole show keeps it's pace really well. There was a short moment in the middle where she, her two backing singers and her guitarist (who loved himself, tossing his long wavy hair), took to stools and attempted a 'campfire songs' type of thing. It didn't work for me. When you've got a huge fuck off stage, kick ass dancers and a lighting show that puts Blackpool Illuminations to shame, a 'quiet, intimate' moment with the audience just doesn't seem to work.

The evening was a success!
Apart from missing the last tram home, but hey, let's not talk about that.
The Pink concert was great, I got to eat birthday cake, baked that very day! I spent time with people that I love being with and The Girl looked absolutely stunning.

A painter paints pictures on canvas, but musicians paint their pictures on silence

Like music?

There's a new music blog in town. A place for music fans to congregate, read about music and post their thoughts and opinions.
It will only really work if people participate, so if you like music then please feel free to visit the place. It would be nice to see some familiar faces there.
Oh and spread the word. That's always a good idea.

TheAuditorium

No it's not so pleasant and it's not so conventional. And it sure as hell ain't normal, but we deal, we deal.

This is an overhead plan of where I work.
Click to make biggy wiggy.

I sit at Desk 2.
Note the inclusion of the infamous coffee machine on the far right.
Loop Loo sits behind me at Desk 1. 3rd Time Lucky's assistant sits at Desk 3, in front of me. Then there's Sniffer at Desk 4 and Mr Happy at Desk 5. Reception has either the Nutty Girl or Posh Wannabe, depending on morning or afternoon.

A more detailed version of all this is here.