The beat of a thousand drums, drumming on your soul...

I dance to the beat of a different drummer. This has always been true. Not because I want to, or because I think it's cool to be different. I don't think like that. It's just the way things turned out. The way things always were. Without trying I was different. To quote the film version of Prozac Nation - "They thought I was strange so they made me feel like a stranger."

Each day my drummer beats a different rhythm. A different pace. It's fantastic following my drummer and not somebody elses. I mean I'm fairly sure that somebody else must walk to the beat of my drum (Sam does in many respects) but I don't know anybody who walks to the beat of the drum that I walk to. And it's nice to have that solidarity. Sometimes I yearn for something different. Sometimes I yearn to follow the beat of everybody elses drum. But then I realise that that's never going to happen and that there is no point trying.

Today my drummer is beating a strange rhythm. An exciting rhythm non-the-less. It's started off slow and I can feel it slowly building, and I know it will rise toa cacophonous crescendo until I crash and burn, drunk, at god-knows what time tomorrow morning, after a brilliant night of BBQ-ing it up with my three best friends and my wonderful boyfriend.

From what I can tell this beat is going to be epic. The rise and fall of it's inevitable crescendos and decrescendos fluxuating with the rhythm of my heart to fill me wth an ecstatic feeling comparable to nothing. At least that's what I envisage it as.

I cannot wait.

xx

Quote of the day: Everything in moderation including moderation - Buddha

Song of the day: Poppiholla - Chicane (Remix of Hoppipolla by Sigur Ros)

My constricted chest and other stories...

So there have been many Michael Jackson related resit jokes today. Well when I say many, I mean two. "Resit" rhymes particularly well with "Beat it" and "Doing resits" can be construed to sound like "Billie Jean" if you stretch the imagination a little.

I guess I should explain what this is about. Erm... so yeah, I've not passed my first year of university yet, like everybody else has. I have a while longer to wait to see if I've passed, due to the annoying fact that I've got to resit my French exam. I mean it's only 3 percent off a pass, so it's not that bad. But it's still 3 bloody percent. 3 bloody stupid percent.


I'm annoyed. Can you tell? For a short while my chest felt like it was constricted. Which wasn't good. It felt like someone had wrapped a belt round my chest and pulled it rather tight. It feels slightly better now. So much so that I'm considering getting back to work in a sec. I mean I had to take 40 minutes for lunch instead of 30, just because I couldn't work because I felt so weird. It wasn't good.











Quote of the day: “Ambition is the last refuge of failure.” - Oscar Wilde

Song of the day: Can't sleep - Above and Beyond

And as the sun sets on the world, it shall set not on our friendship...

So on Friday I'm having my summer BBQ again. It's going to be epic this time. Possibly more epic than last time. I mean Sam's going to be there, so immediately it goes up a few rungs on the epic scale.

Pictures from last time can be seen at: http://www.myspace.com/Amethyst_Moonlight

There will be food, alcomahol, drunkenness, good music and excellent company. I can't wait.

In other news I have a sore shoulder. I don't know what it's from although I'm guessing it's from sharing a single bed again. I never seem to get a good nights sleep when me and Sam are in the same bed together. Don't get me wrong, the sex is good, as is the cuddling, and the snuggling. But trying to sleep. Nu-uh. It just doesn't work. I need my space when I sleep. I wriggle so much that to be honest if I don't have my space I generally don't sleep that well. Oh well.

I just wish I could get used to it. We've been doing enough. But honestly I'm not getting used to it. Oh well. I'll deal with it. It's either sex and no sleep or no sex and mildly better sleep. I know what I'd rather choose.

xx

I am happy. I am seeing Sam tonight. It's making me feel slightly giddy inside. I mean it's been over a week. And this is me not being obsessive. Which is slightly scary. But I need my attention. Like lots of it.

This is sad news because it means that I might not be able to last when he goes down to Bangor University. Which is a shame. But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

For now though I am happy. And giddy. And in love. Very much in love. I am missing Torchwood to be with him, but I will be recording it and will most probably watch some of it before work tomorrow. Or later tonight if it's on i-player.

That's all I have for now.

xx

Narcoleptic phonecalls...

So last night I conquered a slight phobia I have. Well actaully, it's not really a phobia. It's an axiety. A small anxiety. But non-the-less annoying. It's a phone thing. Not the actual phone itself. But the calling of people on the telephone. I just don't like doing it. Close family I can do it with. But ask me to ring other people and it gets silly. I just put it off. And then I put if off. And then eventually I be brave and do it. Then everything is all right.

It's silly I know, but it happens. And when I say I conquered it. I didn't really conquer it all the way, it's going to happen again, I know it is. But I took the bull by the horns and did something I'd never envisaged myself doing. This basically was me feeling, annoyed, lonely (in my empty house - it's empty for two weeks) and just pain unloved. I'd been planning to meet my boyfriend on Saturday, but when I txt him, he was busy and he asked me if I'd like to join him for a bit before I went on my night out and it was sweet, but I was all ready late for meeting friends and so I declined. (As it was I probably could have seen him for about 15 minutes. But heh ho.)

Anyway, so I was txting my dear friend Jacqueline. Who is awesome in every way, and whom I helped moved to Manchester on Saturday so she could be out of her uni room and so she didn't have to take her stuff on the train. She suggested I ring my boyfriend and speak to him (Seeing as he hadn't replied to a few of my txts and I was feeling unloved because of that - weird I know, don't ask.)

At this point I had a film on t.v. (A good one about two guys in wheelchairs with cerebral palsy. It was very good) and I muted the sound and just sat there for a minute trying to build up the courage to ring him. I messed around for a bit typing the number into the house phone and putting it off and putting it off and stuff. Then I just did it. I pressed the green telephone.

The ring, ring, ring, of the phone was almost taunting me, but he picked up and we had a really good phone conversation. I mean he's socially inept, just like I am. Just more so. And although I've never found it a problem holding a conversation with him, I just thought that it might be different over the phone. But it wasn't. It was a nice phone call. It made me feel a lot better. I feel that I'm going to be ringing him a lot more from now on.

xx

Quote of the day: "Well the future's got me worried such awful thoughts; My head's a carousel of pictures, the spinning never stops; I just want someone to walk in front; And I'll follow the leader. Like when I fell under the weight of a schoolboy crush; Started carrying her books and doing lots of drugs; I almost forgot who I was; But came to my senses" - Bright Eyes - Nothing Gets Crossed out

Song of the day: This one is too difficult to make it a song. So I'm going to make it an album... Stainless Style by Neon Neon

Grrr...

So I found out today that my dad is a back-seat driver. It's fucking annoying. "Don't pull over yet." "Stay in this lane." It's all do this, do that. I hate it. I've been driving for over a year now, and all my worst driving faults come out when he's with me. I'm a good driver. The reason all my faults come out when he's in the car is basically just because I do one thing wrong and he panics and it's all "You should have done this..." and then when he's in the car I get all panicky and stuff because if I make a mistake he'll berate me. It's not good. Grrrrr. It makes me angry. I mean I'm not an angry person normally, but you know.

This leads me onto the whole situation of my parents not being pleased about letting me go. I'm 19, and as much as I have childish elements to me, they need to leave me alone and let me be, let me live my life.

I just wish that they would fuck off.




This is all I have for now.

xx

Quote of the Day: "I know I believe In nothing but it's my nothing."
- Richey James Edwards

Song of the Day: If today was your last day - Nickelback