tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-98883552012-01-26T22:34:05.482Zbedshapednoreply@blogger.comBlogger5651100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-50261897488068904462012-01-26T22:34:00.005Z2012-01-26T22:34:05.490Z

Two things.... One: For fucks sake! Two: I have my court date. The fourteenth of February. Valentines day. For fucks sake! Again!

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-48709988605039453902011-12-22T23:24:00.005Z2011-12-22T23:26:02.226Z

This year, I shall be raising a glass of vino to the people we lost this year and taking a minute or two to think about the people less fortunate than ourselves. Something mahoosive is happening tomorrow. Merry Christmas x

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-7322747707986686992011-12-20T21:44:00.004Z2011-12-20T22:03:08.110Z

And just when I'm about to get all wrapped up in my own self-pity, wondering why things in my life are so complicated and tough, so barren and bare....something happens to slap me in the face and wake me up to all the other people's crap in the world. And once again, I'm feeling lucky. In a way. Earlier today, my ex-wife lost her step-dad. He was as close to a real dad to her and her sister as

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-53962713502879245362011-12-17T20:04:00.001Z2011-12-17T20:07:36.180Z

They pulled out at the last minute. Seriously, fuck my life.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-13129858402897950392011-12-11T22:14:00.002Z2011-12-11T22:16:06.432Z

Hearing at just after 9am on the day of completion that "something has slipped through the net" isn't the best kind of news. It hasn't all fallen through. It's been delayed. By another week. Yeah, no problem. Just unpack loads of essential day-to-day stuff, call all those companies up to reinstate services, beg with the removal company to hopefully reschedule for next week and not lose initial

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-65213981328832244872011-12-08T20:44:00.002Z2011-12-08T20:47:48.844Z

It feels very, very weird to think I have someone else moving in with me. I don't feel precious about this house. My house. I'm not feeling guarded and protective about it. If anything, it's been a noose around my neck for many years now. But I don't hate it. In fact, I love this place. It's a quiet road, I don't hear anything from the neighbours. In fact, the house adjoined to mine sold a good

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-58389744203151898952011-12-05T21:44:00.001Z2011-12-05T22:31:06.687Z

So, after Friday, I....I say I, but I mean me and the cats; Dexter and Dozy, will be joined by another person in the house. A real human being. Totally scary. After two weeks since the interview from hell, I've still heard nothing. The other guy who's also gone for the job hasn't heard anything either, nor has one other person we know got through to interviews. Quite bizarre. In the last four

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-44891524539652549792011-12-03T21:24:00.000Z2011-12-03T21:26:22.390Z

It's your most defining moment. It's where you want the initial focus. it's where you want the afterthought, To linger. Sweeping it away from your face. It's where you want the very least focus, it's where you left your afterglow, To falter. It's obvious when you're rekindling that friendship. With your confidence. It's telling with your rags, your clips, your bands. Growing your confidence.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-39447720031406207282011-11-22T22:04:00.018Z2011-11-22T22:09:53.051Z

I don't think I've ever felt such a lack of confidence after going for an interview. The week before, I'd spent so much time preparing; researching the role, speaking to other people within the company who currently hold this position to get as much useful info as I could, reading through interview techniques, preparing strong answers to expected questions, getting my mind into the right positive

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-52031081021938146282011-11-14T22:44:00.005Z2011-11-14T22:51:10.601Z

So, this afternoon, while I'm sat in a stuffy office telling my boss that I've applied for this (quite considerably out of my league) position, my mobile rings. I muted it and continued our conversation; we were at the part where he 'wished me good luck', whilst wearing a slight sneer. I got bleeped for a new voicemail; it was from the girl in HR where I'd sent my CV, asking me if I could contact

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-72842915296251098932011-11-10T21:54:00.000Z2011-11-10T22:32:16.086Z

I applied for a new job today. I've read through the job description and I'm totally confident that I could not only do the job, but do it well and really enjoy the challenge. The job descriptions from the company I work for, are very detailed. The last page gives an over-view of the type of person they're looking for, then goes on to list current positions within the company where this new

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-69198913068562926162011-11-09T21:24:00.000Z2011-11-10T22:32:53.166Z

Another year older, and I still don't feel strong enough at times. Isn't it supposed to get easier?! I'm told, by my money grabbing solicitor, that my case should be over by the end of February. Blimey, it feels so far away. So, by the end of Feb, I will be free of this horrible noose around my neck. I'll know either way if it was all worth it. And by the end of this month, I'll have a new

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-75224896526558971012011-10-07T20:54:00.008+01:002011-10-07T20:55:54.869+01:00

My niece gets married on Sunday. It's become a weird date, by coincidence. 9.10.11  12:00 My brother's daughter. My sad eyes have always seen her as the daughter I never had. She seems to have a great connection with her guy, and I truly hope that getting married doesn't change any of that. I have such a terrible opinion of marriage. I've just noticed that I opened with "...gets married",

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-71243658742387931612011-08-19T20:54:00.006+01:002011-08-19T21:04:20.618+01:00

For the umpteenth year, I bought tickets for VFestival. Last week, I had to make a tough decision: Do I go; which means having to buy most of my camping equipment again (since once again, I donated my tent, airbed and sleeping bags to charity) and having to find a lot of 'dollar'. All in all, I estimated £300 was about right. Do I sell my tickets, because with everything else going on (

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-30127519914783256302011-08-13T21:34:00.003+01:002011-08-13T21:38:13.216+01:00

Fucking things up seems to be my forte. Although, I'm unbelievably critical and that in itself lends a nail in the coffin when perhaps it ain't necessarily so. Well over two years has passed since I fucked my life up, and still it haunts me. Even though I don't ever think about the 'what ifs' or wish I could turn back time; because it has ultimately made me a better person, it doesn't stop me

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-30259934915278550842011-08-03T21:34:00.007+01:002011-08-03T21:42:30.162+01:00

It's D-Day today. The third of August was the deadline the Judge gave The Lettings Agency, to submit their defence to my claim. I'm expecting an email any day now from the money grabbing bastard of a Solicitor. Once I can see what their defence case is, and after paying a ridiculous amount to my Solicitor for a 'consultation', I will then have to make a decision. The last Judge ruling was a big

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-17502274052900242432011-07-31T21:04:00.000+01:002011-07-31T21:04:53.420+01:00

I haven't given up on her. In fact, I think I'm falling in love with her. She believes in herself. She say it's because she believes in me. Whilst I'm not quite sure what she means, it's unbelievably touching.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-13983816398374553132011-07-26T21:24:00.000+01:002011-07-26T21:26:47.685+01:00

When I'm going through 'bad patches' in my life, I turn to one of things I can control; food. Either restricting my food intake, or not eating at all gives me a sense of 'control' that nobody else can take away from me. It's quite pathetic really. Not to mention stupid. But sometimes it's a necessary part of being me.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-9346740678654630222011-07-13T22:04:00.015+01:002011-07-13T22:07:22.743+01:00

The courts are a scary place. Once inside, a security guard motions for me to remove everything metallic and to empty my pockets into what looks like an ice-cream tub that's to the side of the scanner machine. Once through the other side, I took my mobile phone, about £2 in change, my keys and belt back and proceeded over to the list of hearings for the morning. Up on the second floor; the open

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-38093015439386074492011-07-11T20:54:00.003+01:002011-07-11T20:56:18.440+01:00

Off to the court hearing tomorrow morning. Nervous? Understatement!

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-12741222332540064412011-06-25T20:54:00.000+01:002011-06-25T20:54:02.103+01:00

Trying to put my house back together is proving a very tiring and draining task; both mentally and financially. Each time I begin sorting something out or fixing something up, another problem unfolds and gets added to the impossibly lengthy list. I have to admit though, it's becoming more and more disheartening living here with absolutely minimal furniture, no carpets, no wallpaper, just one set

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-77451938857847312402011-06-16T22:24:00.011+01:002011-06-16T22:27:54.502+01:00

So....living on your own is tough. For those that wish for it.... For those that strive for it....For those that dream of it..... It's fucking hard. Put aside the monetary implications. I have two cats and a plant to talk to. I've always said, "Alone, but not lonely". And I've always believed it. There's a huge difference. Most people can't see it. I can see it. I am living it.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-35872466125174030512011-05-22T18:54:00.001+01:002011-05-22T18:54:11.875+01:00

Sometimes....I feel like I'm living in a world that nobody else will understand. And it's not because I don't try to help people understand. I try, and try, and try. Am I really so different.Am I really so impossible to fathom out. I'm not unhappy in my life. I constantly remind myself how lucky I am, strive to see the best in other people and move forward each day knowing that I am the person

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-61211389049448736862011-05-15T20:04:00.001+01:002011-05-15T20:06:12.499+01:00

A few days ago, my parents told me about their shock and devastation when they found out that my brother and his wife are alcoholics. The signs have always been there and I always thought my folks were more switched on than they obviously are. My dad seems to be taking it the hardest. Hmmmm, hardest may be the wrong choice of word, but his words of disappointment hammered that one home. His brow

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-11701694803628839012011-05-08T21:44:00.001+01:002011-05-08T22:10:38.816+01:00

I bought some net curtains for one of the windows today. I think you would be proud.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-53013031852911620482011-04-19T21:14:00.014+01:002011-04-19T21:18:35.117+01:00

It's strange, almost unsettling when you look back. When I read back through things that spilt out of this head, through these fingertips. Same person, just completely different. One of the reasons I'm finding it so hard to let go of this blog.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-10975569382979530262011-04-07T23:34:00.000+01:002011-04-07T23:34:13.661+01:00

My solicitor....actually, he's not my solicitor, he's just a solicitor that I'm paying fucking stupid money to take the Lettings Agency to court....is taking the piss with me. I get the feeling that he's purposely delaying things, or double/triple/quadruple checking things with me, in order to slow the whole process down. After all, I'm paying him stupid amounts of money per hour, plus VAT to

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-24247482705122465192011-03-22T21:34:00.008Z2011-03-22T21:41:37.311Z

If you don't like the taste, then you should have never swallowed. If you flinch at his arm around your shoulder, then you should have never said yes. If you long for time on your own, then you made the biggest mistake. If you curse the day, then you have nobody else to blame....but yourself. I know you're not stupid. I know you can't just erase. I know you feel awful. I forgive you. Because I

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-83443694450576763402011-03-20T20:24:00.001Z2011-03-20T20:29:10.534Z

Sometimes it takes a while to realize that you're actually in a good place. I am in a good place.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-33308757967157281012011-03-06T20:44:00.004Z2011-03-06T20:51:01.869Z

Sometimes love gets in the way of making the right decisions. Or perhaps my judgement is clouded and I'm not seeing the bigger picture.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-53002222774218482462011-02-28T22:04:00.001Z2011-02-28T22:06:05.433Z

How time has flown. Dexter is almost six months and growing into a strapping young lad, although I took him to the vets the other day to have his dangly bits 'doctored'. Poor little guy! He's now stopped his previous routine to wake me up; crawling under the bed covers to nibble at my toes and ankles. Nowadays, he just climbs on top of me and paddles away until he feels me stirring. Lovely and

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-12855537704108351172011-02-13T20:34:00.001Z2011-02-13T20:37:21.366Z

My Uncle died last week. I can't say we were close at all, but the effect on my family, especially my mum; who's brother he was, has darkened my insides and left me with a twisted, knotty feeling. He's in a much better place now, wherever that may be. A few weeks ago, I moved out of my parents house. Dexter, Marley and I are trying to pretend that everything's alright here. It quite obviously

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-73402420384371986822011-02-04T23:04:00.004Z2011-02-04T23:05:21.307Z

Around 10am today, my dad wandered into where I work and told me my Uncle was dead. Apparently so ill and beyond any kind of recovery, a decision was made to switch off his life support machine. When I went round to see my folks after work, the first words out of my mum's mouth was that he wasn't dead at all. He's still on life support. Stupid fucking American laws, rules and regulations.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-63403605691721224282011-01-17T23:24:00.007Z2011-01-17T23:32:19.664Z

Just a few things to say tonight....  The new guy at work has really bad B.O. He may not be aware of it, or it may be a medical condition, but it's unpleasant and people are starting to talk.  Since he started, and I'm not pointing the finger here, but it's a bloody big coincidence, someone is leaving an awful mess in the guy's toilets lately. Specifically, the toilet pan. Sometimes it

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-64365166413317588352011-01-16T21:24:00.052Z2011-01-16T21:27:26.794Z

Feeling pretty numb, the consequence of our conversation last night. After dropping it on me at the very last minute, last Sunday night; "I'm going away for a few days. Actually, until Friday evening. I'm going somewhere to sort my head out. I just need some time, some space, some peace to get some kind of order going in my head. I have so many things going on in my life. I need this. And I

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-16618218203025802902011-01-03T22:14:00.000Z2011-01-03T22:20:30.804Z

It's difficult to look forward with positivity, the ominous news of my Uncle's terminal condition is casting dark cloud over all of the family here. Trying, trying, trying not to allow it hang over me too much, but my parents gloominess is difficult, bleak and affecting. Naturally. Attempting to push all my senses and focus on restoring the house into some sort of habitable state. No more

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-65749421438145679562010-12-26T13:54:00.007Z2010-12-26T13:57:01.680Z

Christmas day I find out.... My niece was proposed to. My Uncle in America is told his cancer has spread and is now terminal. Pfffft.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-65585230018799199202010-12-21T21:24:00.024Z2010-12-21T21:24:17.893Z

I can't seem to keep up with blogs anymore. Not meaning that the blogs that I like to dip into every now and then post so much stuff that I fall behind or get lost. I mean, very often lately when I follow a link from this blog, the writer has either stopped posting, or the blog had been deleted. Even the ones I don't link from here, but keep in my bookmarks have been disappearing slowly. And

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-32933611565344330102010-12-18T22:24:00.000Z2010-12-18T22:24:07.418Z

Wow! Loads has been happening, it's hard to know where to begin. I guess the most important thing is that after the New Year, I will have my own space back. It's taken a very long time, it's cost me a lot of money and it's been gruelling and stressful, but finally those wankers who were digging their heels in whilst living rent free in my house have finally been turfed out. I wouldn't wish

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-38147838377201033902010-11-27T19:44:00.003Z2010-11-27T19:52:39.493Z

I appear to have adopted a kitten. He's now eleven weeks old and totally adorable, even though he has some strange habits, including an odd fascination with my toes and a tendency to like to sleep under the bed covers with just his head poking out. I named him Dexter. Over the last few months; I've been organising gigs, co-producing and mixing tracks in a recording studio and found myself

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-34772503801547446682010-11-07T22:04:00.001Z2010-11-07T22:10:56.256Z

I'm considering adopting a kitten.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-84831407013691546652010-10-29T21:54:00.001+01:002010-10-29T21:54:21.190+01:00

I'm all about left, all about four and all about green. I'm all about Free Trade, all about tattoos and all about Marlboro Lights. I'm all about boxers, all about Damien Rice and all about red wine. I'm all about coffee, all about scented candles and all about brunettes. I'm all about scars, all about cats and all about Johnny Depp. I'm all about recycling, all about weed and all about

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-50518237840676639092010-10-15T21:44:00.053+01:002010-10-15T21:48:09.934+01:00

People I'd like to share a spliff with: In no particular order.... Stan Laurel. I'd like to tell him how much I love Laurel & Hardy movies. And how they helped me through a tough childhood. Quentin Tarantino. I'd like to ask him for a cameo in his next movie. Damien Rice. I'd like to ask him who she is. Drew Barrymore. I'd like to ask if I could do the music supervision on her next project.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-5719777603755548712010-09-28T22:04:00.015+01:002010-09-28T22:07:47.273+01:00

Sat in my room now, reflecting on the day. Spent the best part of six hours drinking coffee and talking about my previous failed relationships. I concluded that I'm obviously a difficult person to 'be with'. She concluded that my experiences have made me the person I am today; over protective, guarded and difficult. And then she told me to never give up.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-46025036920168406282010-09-27T23:14:00.003+01:002010-09-27T23:15:58.655+01:00

The girl who works in accounts doesn't seem to have any idea that the guy who works in the fleet department sleeps around on his wife. I think I heard him talking about tenth wedding anniversary plans. She seems to have no idea about him. Or maybe she chooses to ignore it. Either way, it makes me feel really sad to see it so close up. On the second week I was there, I had the girl who works on

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-59676206674037922692010-09-24T23:04:00.014+01:002010-09-24T23:05:01.783+01:00

Not very exciting at work today, but I left a couple of hours early and managed to do something I've been planning to for ages. I've had to be thorough, strategic and well planned. Feeling bloody good tonight. Also feels quite creepy being alone in the house tonight.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-382135578315693062010-09-11T21:34:00.003+01:002010-09-11T21:36:47.539+01:00

It feels weird thinking that this place is coming to an end, but it feels kind of natural. Since I started blogging here, back in 2005, my journey has crossed paths with many, many wonderful fellow bloggers. Some still blog, although not as regularly as they once did. Many said their goodbyes in delightful ways, moving on with their lives. Some just....disappeared, without so much as a kiss my

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-79467552807587795392010-09-10T23:14:00.001+01:002010-09-10T23:15:57.489+01:00

Big Brother has come to an end. After ten years of dedicated viewing, for me, summertime will never be the same again. Over the years, I've felt a huge variety of emotions. I've chuckled, I've laughed, I've cried and cringed. I've been shocked, been flabbergasted, been frustrated and been angry. I've felt pleased, felt all warm and cuddly, felt grossed out and felt humble. All the emotional

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-4714431092990087512010-09-09T22:04:00.001+01:002010-09-09T22:10:12.078+01:00

For the last ten days, my folks have been in America. My Uncle has been suffering with a 'sore throat' since the back end of last year. At least, that's what we'd been led to believe. Several weeks ago, he went to see a doctor/specialist/consultant for said sore throat and hasn't been out of hospital since. In fact, most of the time he's been in intensive care, or whatever they call it in

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-13081841373820683212010-09-08T22:14:00.001+01:002010-09-08T22:19:12.416+01:00

Don't keep asking me the same thing over and over and over. Each time you ask, my answer loses more and more feeling. And you can hear it in my voice. I know you can. I begin to begrudge the question, whilst you begin to doubt my integrity. Not only does it get us nowhere; it chips away, it pulls apart and begins to dissolve our relationship. You're asking me to be something I'm not capable of

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-85123985204901843232010-09-05T22:24:00.000+01:002010-09-05T22:28:44.127+01:00

There's been some fantastic music around lately. I'm loving this years groove, so far. Currently loving Bombay Bicycle Club; both albums, but the acoustic one in particular, Eliza Doolittle, Paloma Faith, The Foals, The xx (brilliant album), Arcade Fire, Mumford & Sons, Goldfrapp, Plan B, Katie Melua and still, still loving Biffy Clyro's latest.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-69126990420349663762010-09-03T21:34:00.001+01:002010-09-03T21:34:34.568+01:00

She brushed his hand in bed that night, but she didn't mean it. If he'd have been awake, she would have apologized. But there was never any need. She'd already made up her mind.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-29048905920250452322010-08-31T20:44:00.006+01:002010-08-31T20:45:32.749+01:00

So, I've changed jobs. So far, I like it. On my first day, I had to fill in the usual forms. When it came to the 'optional' equal opportunities form, I was quite happy ticking away at the boxes until I came across the section about sexual orientation. I can understand company's wanting to 'measure' their own staffing, whilst also showing they don't discriminate, but I was a little taken aback

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-61823901149575573632010-08-30T21:44:00.007+01:002010-08-30T21:45:04.048+01:00

Some things that happened over the music festival weekend: I got pulled to one side and searched by two coppers, in the market area. It's my own bloody fault. It was Friday night, the atmosphere was electric, and I stupidly lit up whilst strolling through the market stalls. They searched me, found another spliff, then pulled me out of ear-shot and told me enjoy myself, by all means, but not to

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-62724724517160560162010-08-29T17:44:00.002+01:002010-08-29T17:48:31.438+01:00

Artists/Bands I got to see at VFest: Kings of Leon, Stereophonics, Paul Weller, Editors, Feeder, Paloma Faith, The Divine Comedy (solo), The Magic Numbers, Robyn, Eliza Doolittle, Kirsty Almeida, The boy who trapped the sun, La Roux, The Prodigy, Shed Seven, Plan B, Faithless, The Kooks, Paolo Nutini, Skunk Anansie, Pixie Lott. Artists/Bands I really wanted to see, but didn't: Florence & the

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-49917303388842819132010-08-27T21:34:00.001+01:002010-08-27T21:35:48.749+01:00

I survived. Just about. And even now, almost five days later, I'm only just beginning to feel 'normal'. While I was away, I fell in love with a girl. She is amazing. I love everything about her. Funny, cute, imaginative, quirky, experimental, possibly a little un-hinged, honest, personal, frank, open, interesting. Long red hair, lovely eyes, wonderfully curvy, gorgeous voice, great fashion

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-5861453160760955412010-08-19T22:54:00.002+01:002010-08-19T22:54:00.646+01:00

Back in four days. Approximately. The music is calling me. x

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-51124461111235672802010-08-18T22:24:00.001+01:002010-08-18T22:30:06.135+01:00

There's a terrible lack of great movies around lately. Three most memorable movies for me, of late; Inception, Shutter Island - much better second time around, and Kick Ass - has miles left in it. New, original stuff needed. Stat.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-10772374240246060992010-08-17T20:54:00.007+01:002010-08-17T21:02:43.359+01:00

So, I'm officially 'between jobs'. And when I say between jobs, what I mean is, I worked my last day today and haven't got a start day for a new job yet. In fact, I've not had an offer in writing or signed anything. I could have fucked up there, but hey, I feel okies about it. I need to to ring the new place tomorrow, to make arrangements for a start date, but more importantly, to arrange

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-27048816444567985882010-08-16T23:54:00.017+01:002010-08-17T00:05:27.578+01:00

Is it possible to know another person, inside out, upside down? You may be able to finish their sentences, but could that be put down to a more 'routine' element. And would you ever want to know a person that much? Would that create a very balanced sense of peace in your life, or would it be a catalyst for fear. Fear that there's nothing else to live for?

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-16808612546389714002010-08-15T20:04:00.002+01:002010-08-15T20:16:51.223+01:00

Thank you, You have no idea.... x

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-81663568929250503592010-08-14T20:44:00.004+01:002010-08-14T20:47:16.665+01:00

I'm sat here wondering who's telephone number I would give, in case something happened and it was like an emergency call. Four weeks ago, we were told that my cousin has lung cancer. Last week, we were told my uncle, her dad, has throat cancer. If I wish for one thing to 'happen' in my lifetime; I don't care about time-travel, flying cars or virtual worlds....I'd wish for a cure to be found

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-78794889914896074372010-08-13T22:04:00.000+01:002010-08-13T22:12:02.448+01:00

So things have changed once again. I need to study the debris, and find a way to piece it back together. But I feel challenged. Motivated. Positive. And strong. I quit my job yesterday. Spontaneity is my friend. And also a difficult word to spell.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-15205354055879168682010-08-11T22:14:00.000+01:002010-08-11T22:21:10.695+01:00

I'm an easy target, a pushover, a sure-fire crumbler. Go on, take advantage of me. And even though I'm clearly not in the wrong, you will always manage to make me feel like I've done wrong. And your goal? To make me feel like utter shit. Congratulations, you can sleep easy.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-83299642602915627452010-08-10T23:04:00.000+01:002010-08-10T23:11:47.406+01:00

You may be tempted by the understanding of Damien Rice, the movement of Radiohead, the depth of Tori, the emotion of Natalie.... And of course many, many others could be substituted here. But nothing,  nothing makes you feel better after a break up than Alanis.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-13010222820354383902010-08-09T21:14:00.000+01:002010-08-09T21:16:55.578+01:00

What happened to all the beautiful people? Their make up has run, their shells have peeled back. Backstabbed their defences, gone on the attack. What happened to all those promising words? Pursed on those lips, delivered with ease. Covered with venom, full of disease.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-74199140793245705782010-08-08T20:54:00.007+01:002010-08-08T20:55:05.976+01:00

So now, I'm kinda left with an extra ticket for Vfestival. Which is in less than two weeks. But I'm ok about it.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-84649915075675957992010-08-07T22:04:00.002+01:002010-08-07T22:06:37.865+01:00

She promised me. She looked me in the eye and promised me that she wouldn't leave. Leaving, meaning she would be getting into her car and driving twenty odd miles whilst way, way over the drink drive limit. But despite me managing to stop her a few times until she crumbled on the bed, repeating how much of a dick she thinks she's been. And despite me thinking, "thank fuck for that", after she'd

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-38411007109131103442010-08-06T19:44:00.003+01:002010-08-06T19:52:46.485+01:00

Many people's expectations have changed. There just seems to be an apathy and aloofness from most people, and I can't help but feel like they're short-changing themselves. And yet, when I live my life without dropping my own standards and expectations, I'm left with a bitter taste in my mouth and most other people just shrugging their shoulders. The whole thing just stinks of animosity.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-44612774243064175172010-08-05T21:24:00.000+01:002010-08-05T21:26:39.574+01:00

A few weeks ago, a group of us were talking about various gigs we'd been to. Who we'd seen, who we really, really wanted to see but hadn't got around to seeing....yet, who'd been the best, the worst, the first....and so the categories continued. I can't remember all of the 'descriptions' we covered, but here's the majority, plus some we never talked about. It should be noted, I really struggle

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-88546460561492520232010-08-04T21:24:00.005+01:002010-08-04T21:27:34.171+01:00

Tomorrow, I have to get up and leave the house by 7am, drive over 90 miles to sit for 8 hours for 'training' on something I know pretty much everything about, in order to be 'permitted' to perform that duty in a job I am leaving. Wonderful.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-42660991939060305572010-08-03T22:04:00.001+01:002010-08-03T22:12:21.469+01:00

For the second time this week, I've walked into the men's toilets to find the previous occupant didn't even flush properly. Dear person/persons who use the toilet at work for number two's, Would you like walk into the toilet and find a 'present' awaiting your arrival? No? Didn't think so. Please be kind enough to show some common courtesy. Best wishes, bedshaped x

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-28704513734324569032010-08-02T21:44:00.021+01:002010-08-02T21:47:29.600+01:00

It's all about pushing yourself. Never mind "that extra mile", a few extra steps are enough. And when you come up against something immovable in your way, You just start pushing in a different direction. I'd like to be pushing in all sorts of new directions by the end of this year. I'd like to be doing something 'different' with my life, I'd like to have my own space back, I'd like to focus more

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-91668612143548528702010-08-01T20:24:00.036+01:002010-08-01T20:34:08.321+01:00

I seem to be really enjoying parts of my life lately. Back to life, back to reality. In the next couple of months alone, I'm going to be witnessing, nay, participating in the joy that is The Rocky Horror Show. Yes, Of course I'm gonna be dressing up. I'm also going to revisit my Church this year. The place where I truly feel at complete ease with myself. V Festival. Four days of music, love, joy

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-43343118469820912042010-07-03T20:44:00.003+01:002010-07-03T20:45:49.202+01:00

You shouldn't change, for anyone. Don't change for him, for her, for them. And don't change for love. Love makes you do silly things. Your thoughts can betray you. Just be yourself, and you'll achieve one thing.... You wont have disappointed yourself.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-81994429370750531532010-06-29T23:14:00.001+01:002010-06-29T23:21:35.266+01:00

There's always a way. When you need something positive to focus on, it's always good to remind yourself that things could be so much worse. That's your starting block, you can dig your heel right in. It's the extra rung on the ladder, the kick up the arse, your second wind. My dad's been really ill. After his operation, he returned home just four days later in quite obvious pain and

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-53818867092337103642010-05-08T21:34:00.002+01:002010-05-08T21:37:42.406+01:00

Waiting for my blind spot, you can wait all you like, You'll never be able to trip me up. I'm one step ahead of you, And you wont see me for dust. I've got your number, I've seen your face before, Those lines, those frowns, those tears. I'm a sequel to the original, And my super-human power is no fear. Keep a straight face, When you look me in the eye. Keep that face straight,You can run, but

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-1774079851593715192010-05-07T20:54:00.005+01:002010-05-07T21:10:32.235+01:00

Our meeting at work this morning, 8.31am: "Right guys. Look, I know it's been a little slow this week so far, but let's not lose faith in ourselves. We're proving time and time again how well we all work together, pulling out all the stops just when we need it. If I can ask you all just to keep a sharp focus on things, keep me involved and let's all do our best to try and save this week. I

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-89612662699591512872010-05-04T22:34:00.005+01:002010-05-04T22:35:59.677+01:00

It would be nice to think that as you grow, you pick up things from other people who've touched your life, in some way. They may be a life-long friend, they may have been a lover, they may have been a fleeting coincidence, but no matter, something they did, or showed you, or spoke to you about....had an effect on you. Maybe not at that precise point. Not like it was some kind of epiphany. But

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-82023872907368194772010-04-27T22:14:00.002+01:002010-04-27T22:31:16.345+01:00

I'm finding there just aren't enough hours in the day. And when I leave work and arrive back here, at my parents' house, I find myself not wanting to do anything. I'd much rather just sit around with myself for company, along with a background soundtrack, of course. Lately, I've been thinking about Jewel, my cat who left one night through her catflap, never to return. Ten days before I was

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-36584838331326931172010-04-12T22:14:00.012+01:002010-04-12T22:16:11.337+01:00

I'm not crazy anymore. It's official! I feel fine. Better than fine. Life is still dealing me daily challenges, but I can deal with them. I need a tent and a spacehopper for August. The Guinness Book Of Records beckons. I still sigh sometimes though. Yano....Sigh....

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-4322661081388984872010-04-09T23:04:00.009+01:002010-04-09T23:16:58.660+01:00

"You are just....ordinary!" That's what I was told today. How fucking insulting!

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-1942670595134403822010-04-08T21:54:00.004+01:002010-04-08T21:57:33.146+01:00

Dear bedshaped, What's happened to you man!? Seriously, you've let your guard slip in so many ways recently, you're almost transparent. Put the brakes on that right now, sir! You're better than that. Better, better, better. Stop worrying about what other people think of you! It never used to bother you. Flipping around place to place, time to space, you're philosophy was always to cast aside

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-88626436682955623092010-04-07T23:04:00.001+01:002010-04-07T23:12:04.967+01:00

I'm sat here listening to the latest release by Eels. It's making me feel really, really sad. And he's absolutely bang on with squaring up to people's emotions. To most it makes no sense, or at least takes on an agenda of its own. He shows us all how it's done, Peels his skin back to reveal his bare bones, And rises above the sorrow, taking flight. Taking flight.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-443212305827701392010-04-07T22:34:00.002+01:002010-04-07T22:37:21.877+01:00

I fear my laptop may be about to give up the ghost. During boot-up, it laughs in my face with three Error messages, none of which I can find ways to repair them. Oh dear. Maybe now is a good time to try and back up the music files which are spread over the split drives. And I can file the back ups alongside the others that I already did from my PC. The others that I boxed away somewhere and have

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-85179125031846003492010-04-04T21:34:00.001+01:002010-04-04T21:37:44.821+01:00

I don't know how she does it. And I hate the fact that she even has to. The guilt would tear me apart. I don't feel like we're synchronized at the moment. And it scares me.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-26065868169522367082010-04-03T23:54:00.004+01:002010-04-04T00:42:58.859+01:00

Bollocks.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-541883534101604072010-04-01T23:44:00.003+01:002010-04-01T23:46:50.036+01:00

Genuis writer David Mills has died at the age of 48. Fourty fucking eight! Some things are just so messed up in this world. Mr Mills, sir. I salute you and want to thank you for The Wire. One of the best TV shows ever. Rest In Peace x.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-66316505663447649922010-03-29T23:24:00.002+01:002010-03-29T23:25:10.046+01:00

Something I did last night, left me feeling really shitty. My ex is an aspiring artist. I've always loved her work, she really grew in the time I knew her. And she used to post pictures of her works on a photo website. Well, last night I wanted to look at....well, I was just curious. I just wondered how she was getting on with it and if she'd posted some pictures of her latest stuff. She has.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-12368332123417201962010-03-27T22:14:00.016Z2010-03-27T22:19:14.527Z

So, I have a new girlfriend. She brushed in on my life towards the end of last year. I found her attractive, smart, genuine and most importantly; a little kooky. Her lovely dark hair, sometimes up, sometimes down, pinned, tied.... Her elaborate use of make up, her quirky dress sense and her body language all drew me in. Each time I saw her, I found something else about her to love. I love the

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-23314391918495962972010-03-27T21:44:00.005Z2010-03-27T21:52:10.558Z

Ha! Never gonna make that mistake again!

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-73105682080171426992010-03-23T00:44:00.001Z2010-03-23T00:52:43.378Z

You left those photos on the table. So, since you've been gone, I've been glancing through them again. Random snapshots of your life. Your obsession with Axl Rose is quite laughable though. For me it was Prince. Maybe that's where I went wrong. I feel the urge to write on the back of one of them; "Remember me?" But there's no pen to hand. So maybe I'll whisper it to you in the wind. One day when

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-7397457391464196282010-03-22T23:54:00.004Z2010-03-22T23:55:35.758Z

I'm fasting today. And probably tomorrow. I feel podgy. Bloated. I think I'm on.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-46340541121948688382010-03-22T21:24:00.005Z2010-03-22T21:33:29.323Z

I wonder, is there a guy equivalent to a spinster? Or is a spinster a non gender thing anyway? I mean....can I be a guy, who ends up alone, with embarassing Tesco receipts and a house full of cats? To be honest, it doesn't sound a bad idea to me at all. There's this horrible assumption, that people who are alone after reaching a certain age, well, there must be something 'wrong' with them. It's

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-4689664782836014182010-03-20T20:44:00.001Z2010-03-21T09:11:17.656Z

I have nine posts drafted, but I still can't push the publish button. On any of them. Yep, my thoughts are once again tangled. But what I do know, is that Glee is just the best thing on TV at the moment. Oh, apart from Lost. Ah, and True Blood, The Vampire Diaries, Caprica, Weeds, Dexter and Flash Forward. It is a pure stroke of genius though. Shutter Island is one of the best movies I've seen

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-84164729753151200402010-03-06T22:14:00.002Z2010-03-08T22:19:17.608Z

Dear Manager, You're so mono-tone....so empty of emotion....I simply can't read you at all. Put that aside for one minute. Irrespective of your body language and tone, would it kill you to pat me on the back, just once. It fucks me off that even though you know I'm doing a good job, even though my performance is much better than average, even though I put in more time and effort than anybody

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-10539465901125233552010-03-01T23:14:00.008Z2010-03-01T23:17:46.316Z

Oh, for fuck's sake. Is there anybody who might be able to help me figure out how to change the pink links for my timestamp and comments into black, or a different colour.  Pink is so not this blog. Anybody? Hello? Echo....echo.....co....co.....co.....o....o....

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-87183629621727600342010-03-01T22:54:00.001Z2010-03-01T22:54:28.462Z

So, some of the line up for V Festival has been announced today. Goldfrapp is worth the £155 alone. I don't have the money for it. I wouldn't want to go and be the 'odd one out', which is what I would be, assessing my current situation. I have no tent. I'm not sure they would like me to have that particular weekend off work. I'm probably 'past it' in regards to the captive age bracket. I am no

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-43290186432844685772010-02-27T22:54:00.001Z2010-02-27T22:54:14.389Z

It's quite strange to think that the guy downstairs, who I can have a really cool conversation with, is the same guy who used to beat the shit out of me when I was a child; with a slipper, a stick, his belt or whatever else was within arms reach. The pain that he inflicted upon me was soon forgotten. Broken and bruised skin heals. And even though the mental scars will never heal, he tought me one

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9888355.post-61472394982477016692010-02-23T14:44:00.003Z2010-02-23T14:52:21.927Z

When somebody says, "My life is a bit complicated....It's far from straight forward at the moment", what does that mean? I think I get to find out later.

bedshapednoreply@blogger.com2