phantym_56: (shitehawk)
New week tomorrow, new start. Positivity and all that. Cheering up. Recognising that there are good things in my life. I know I can't win every day but it does feel like I've had more loses than wins recently.

You can't depend on other people to make you happy and there are many things I can do myself to make me happy. To completely mangle a quote: "Life is what happens while you're waiting for other people". I'm not waiting for them anymore. I'm doing things and seeing things and it's very small-minded of people I called friends to say things like "You need to find a boyfriend... you sort of mess up the numbers." Fuck that. It's my life and I don't want a boyfriend in it. I will not conform to your petty little social statuses. You will not make me feel like an outcast because my life doesn't exactly match yours. And you know what? I've seen your life. It doesn't appeal very much. It seems to involve spending a lot of time sitting at home with a husband who doesn't strike me as a terribly interesting man and doesn't seem to even speak very much. (Not aimed at anyone in particular.)

Have you ever looked at the midday sun from halfway up a Transylvanian mountain you never meant to be anywhere near and felt glee? Have you ever shrieked in adrenaline-fuelled triumph while standing on a plank? Have you ever sat in a darkened room surrounded by strangers, unable to breathe because you're laughing so hard? Well, I have. And I wouldn't have done any of it if I'd waited for someone to come with me. Sometimes I'm "lonely", yes. But most of the time I'm "independent" or "free". And besides, it's not a crime to be a person who finds being alone more comfortable than being surrounded by people. It's not a crime to not be a people-person. As long as you're happy with that. And most of the time, I am. I came to terms long ago with the fact that I'm happier hiding in my room than I am at a party.

I know that I don't quite fit into any of the boxes you want to put me in. Is she a shy quiet meek little mouse? Yes! And yet is she a bold, pig-headed, too-fearless-for-her-own good bulldozer? Yes! Dreamer or doer? Yes! To both! Jenny once told me I was cool because I didn't care what anyone else thought of me. And that's something that a lot of teens think about themselves and they are sadly mistaken and for that reason, I don't entirely like the description. But I can't deny that there's a certain amount of accuracy in it. Whether or not you find that admirable is up to you. I'm not striding out there radiating "I'm weird! I don't care what you think of me!" because that makes me fucking cringe. But neither am I skulking around going "Please like me, I'll die if you think I'm weird."

The upshot of this all is that I am, like most people, a bit of a patchwork (and probably a patchwork in progress at that) and it's time for me to embrace that a bit, cheer the fuck up and not give a damn about whether or not my friends have got any time in their tedious little lives for me.

(Please note the shitehawk icon. I am pouring out words and emotions and not necessarily phrasing things how I might if I was trying to be diplomatic)
phantym_56: (Girlguiding 100)
I came home from work in a good mood because I'm twenty-four hours away from getting the final signatures in my book to make me a fully-qualified Ranger leader and because I'd put all my evidence together in a little booklet to present to my mentor. And because the Brownie pantomime (more of a play as it lacked songs, dancing or a dame) went ok and the Brownies looked great in their costumes - we had a lovely little forties housewife, complete with eyeliner seams up the back of her legs. And because I talked to Mandy, and she didn't begin the conversation with "I've had a nightmare of a day!" and we talked and I do like seeing friends, in spite of my self-imposed state of hermitness.

But then I came home and the boiler doesn't work terribly well - if it's on, it's on and it seems it will get hotter and hotter until it explodes. Which means it has to be switched off at night which means I won't have a hot radiator to cuddle first thing in the morning. This idea makes me very angry and liable to lose my temper at all sorts of things. The back door being locked and still having the key in it, therefore rendering it impossible to open from the ouside. Dad whining that his camera doesn't work. The fact that no one seems in a hurry to get it fixed because "I'm at work all day and you can't phone someone at this time of night," which means it will go unfixed for months makes it worse. There is tuna in this house. Dad's computer is making a noise like it's about to either take off or blow up. This is not a good frame of mind in which to watch Outcasts, which I've been looking forward to ever since I saw the first trailers.

(Possibly the fact that I didn't go to bed until 2 last night because I was writing something ill-advised is also a factor in the moodiness)
phantym_56: (ed - ketchup)
Dear World

Stop trying to make me grumpy when I don't want to be. Things I hate today.

Low-energy bulbs. They're shit.
Yale locks. They turn a door into a wall even when you're holding the key.
Rain. I don't mind rain but not rain like today. Especially when combined with the above Yale lock.
Stomach pains/cramps/shiveriness/various assorted monthly symptoms, all of which cause misery which makes me grumpy.

On Saturday I went out for a walk in the forest with Jess and Annie and Jess's husband and kids. A fine time was had by all. Auntie Phantym taught two-year-old Nina to paddle in the puddles and Auntie Annie taught her to play pooh-sticks. I tried writing this up on Sunday but got caught up in being jealous that both my best friends have got houses of their own (*grumble grumble*) Anyway, here are a couple of pretty pictures of our afternoon out.Cut for big pictures )
phantym_56: (pints of crazy)

I was going to write a rant about having babies. It's been on my mind recently, not because anyone's been hassling me about it, just because. (The reason for this is more obvious to some of you than others.) I was going to rant but it can be quite elegantly summed up in a few words:

How old do you have to be before you can say "I don't want children" without someone else saying "You'll change your mind one day"?

I'm twenty-five. I know I like neither babies, toddlers, kids nor teenagers and I know I don't want one of my own.

What does wind me up, and it's going to come up again tomorrow, I can already feel it, is the food issue. I'm beginning to feel more capable of explaining this - a little. So I'm going to go for it, because I know I've alluded to it a few times here.

My Food Thing. It's long. Really long. It's about what I eat. Not much, yet I expand it to the point where it took over an hour to write. It's an attempt to get everything written down and therefore it hasn't come out hugely coherent. )



 I need to stop rambling on vaguely food-related stuff and go to bed. Early morning tomorrow.


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phantym_56

June 2012

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