girl in europe

boooo.

2008-04-13T19:58:00.002Z

My Ex is now engaged to the ´Tart He Left Me For´.

They have been together for less time than for how long I was with him. It´s a weird feeling, especially since my best friend is also getting married and I´m going to be a bit part of the wedding. And I´m still not sure about how I feel about him. I just haven´t been able to move on, no matter how hard I´ve tried. I´m still so bitter about the whole thing. For a while it felt like I was ready to move on, and meet new people and have an actual life. Then he flipped out when he lost a couple of CDs, remembered I still had some house keys, called me to demand them back, and when I denied all knowledge of them, he stormed down to my new house and threatened to set fire to it. He spent 30 hours in a police cell, and I head back to Somerset to get away for a while, only to end up almost killing myself in a car accident.

I think I´m still angry. I think I could even say I hate this man. And until I can say that I have no feelings towards him at all, I´m not going to want to meet anyone. And as I´m still living out of a suitcase (thankfully in a nice flat with no German Shepherds) it´s not going to happen for a while.

Sigh.

I just wish I wasn´t torturing myself with facebook stalking. Booo.

spanish boys

2008-03-07T21:02:00.002Z

I appear to have a stalker.

Yes, me. A stalker. A boy who I willingly ´snogged´(I hate that word) and who then wouldn´t leave me alone for the rest of the night even though I told him I wanted to dance with my friend. He wouldn´t let go of me. I found him weird.

Next morning, I have a text from him, telling me that he loves me. He´s now told me this several times, and can´t understand why I don´t say it back, even though I´ve only known him for 3 hours.

He called me 6 times today. I didn´t answer.
I give up!!

2008-03-05T20:44:00.002Z

A girl at Granada Uni was stabbed to death last night in her flat, by someone she knew.

The Spanish Press were all over the Uni today. I have never felt so intruded upon. There were girls sobbing in the corridors with reporters shoving microphones in their faces.

They are grieving for their friend. Why could they not leave them alone?

I hope these people sleep well tonight.

RIP chica.

no internet

2008-03-02T17:09:00.001Z

having no internet is helping me overcome my facebook addiction... but not helping my wallet, the internet caffs are stealing valuable drinking euros!!!

accident prone

2008-02-21T12:18:00.002Z

I must be the most accident prone person in all of Europe.

Last summer I smashed up my car overtaking a tractor and nearly killed myself in the process.

A few weeks ago, I took a tumble down the stairs and spent an afternoon in Casualty having my ankle x-rayed.

Two days ago, I fell up a set of concrete stairs in front of my lecture hall and a group of very hot Spanish boys, and my knee is now purple.

Today I have a horrible cold from being stuck outside in the torrential storms (yes, torrential storms in southern Spain!) made worse from the fact that last summer i punctured one of my lungs.

Booooo!

Spain!!

2008-02-17T12:52:00.003Z

Oooooh, not updated this for a while, maybe it's time for a bit of writing!

So, Monday evening, my father dropped me off at Bristol Airport. It was then I realised that I had got my flight time wrong, and it was 40 minutes earlier than I thought... So I get to queue jump at check in, queue jump into the departures and no hanging about waiting to board. The BEST way to travel!!

I arrived in Malaga at 8.30pm, jumped in a taxi and told the driver the name of my hostel which I had booked for one night. He had no idea where it was, and ended up driving around a residential area in the Malagan suburbs for almost an hour. Eventually he found it, after I gave him directions in broken Spanish to a place I had never been!!

I only stayed here one night, and got up really early in order to catch a bus to Granada. It took two hours, and I saw some of Andalucía. It is a dry and arid place, but mountainous and still beautiful. I arrived in Granada, and ended up getting off the bus at the wrong stop, and lugging my massively heavy suitcase up a HUGE hill for further than necessary. Found the hostel fairly easily though, compared to Malaga!

Tuesday afternoon was spent wandering around trying to get my bearings and discover a bit of my new home city. Wednesday morning I rose early and headed up to the University. Compared to Corsica, registration was easy. I was given a form to fill out and take to a different office. This office made my student card, which I picked up on Friday, then I went back to the first office with a list of classes I wanted to take. In Corsica the people doing the registration had no idea where they were supposed to be, let alone the foreign students they were supposed to be enrolling!!

The rest of the week I have been frantically searching for somewhere to live. There has been very little choice in rooms or flats.

Flat One: clean and central, but my room was tiny and had no window, and was also the throughroom to the bathroom!

Flat Two: disgusting, no oven/microwave

Flat Three: two Spanish boys and a German Shepherd.

Flat Four: living with Granny Goggins.

Flat Five: in the ghetto.

Flat Six: was a language mix up and turned out to be in a different city!

Flat Seven: the eventual winner. I move in tomorrow, with three other English speaking girls. It's clean, new and fairly central. It's very expensive, but worth it. There is no internet at the moment, but hopefully it won't be long before we are connected!

Classes start tomorrow as well. Because I don't have to do exams, I have chosen:
History of Cinema
History of Andalucía
History of the Comic (not really sure about this one)
Spanish in the Americas
Spanish Music Studies

Hasta Luego!

RIP Heath Ledger

2008-01-24T20:52:00.000Z

I can't believe this guy is dead.
It was one of those surreal moments when I woke up to hear the radio reporting on his death, and for a split second I thought I was dreaming.
Please, please, please don't have died from an intended overdose on 'bad drugs'.

busy

2008-01-10T14:22:00.000Z

I've been pulling my hair out over the past few days, trying to do too many things at once.

I have a massive list pinned to the fridge, which currently looks a bit like this:

Find house in Bangor
Find apartment in Spain
Get travel insurance sorted
Opticians
Buy glasses
Summer Job
suitcase????
Christmas tree to tip
Set up wireless (I still haven't managed to do this - I cant actually be bothered)
Mum birthday present
Dissertation Research

I have done one thing on this list. Opticians.

Meh.

post thirty six - resolutions

2008-01-03T23:38:00.000Z

Did anyone watch a program last night called Half Ton Mum?

Shocking.
I don't normally comment on these things but this seriously disgusted me.
She claimed that she didn't overeat, and somedays 'she had to force herself to eat because she knew that she had to eat something'. Everyone else said she overate. Alright, she was overweight as a child and that wasn't entirely her fault, but how can anyone get themselves into a position where they weight in at 64 stone?

I was in a serious car accident like she was. I LOST weight. Granted, I put it most of it back on again, but I cannot see how she how did it. Obesity baffles me.

They say that 'obesity is a disease'. I disagree. Eating shit food and not exercising is not a disease. Stop making up excuses.

Gastric Bypass Surgery is for those with more money than will power. Some people need this operation for real reasons. she could have lost the weight herself, if she really tried.

In case you didn't see it, the surgery was successful. She lost 4 stone in two weeks, but then suddenly had a heart attack and died. She was 29.

They then filmed this guy at the end who was getting help. He was 74 stone.
People are dying every day because they don't have enough to eat. And these people are killing themselves by eating too much.
What a waste.

This program was followed by 'My Fake Baby'. That was also disturbing.
God Bless Channel Four.

post thirty five - home again

2007-12-18T17:20:00.000Z

Trying to set up wireless internet is hard.

Trying to set up wireless internet that your mother has already tried to do, failed, mixed up all the cables and CD's and lost the instructions is even harder.

I am not the most technical person in the world, but, because I know how to send a text message, apparently I should find it more straight forward than she.

When she gets home tonight, and asks why it's not been done, I will try and refrain from beating her over the head with the wifi box.

Welcome Home!!

post thirty four - drunk

2007-12-11T22:43:00.000Z

Never play drinking games with Spanish people.

It will only get messy.

Saturday night, our Italian Erasmus Friend's 29th Birthday. This is the guy who, the week before, I slept with and then found out he had a girlfriend. But I thought I would be sporting and go to his party anyway.

There were quite a few of us there, mostly other Erasmus Students. I took a bottle of wine along, and things were going quite nicely. We were being civil to each other, and it was all good. Until one of the Spaniards suggested a drinking game.

Aim of the Game: you all put your drinks in a circle, and another drink in the middle. You then take it in turns to throw a coin into the centre of the table. If the coin lands in someone's drink, they have to drink all of their drink. If the coin lands in the centre drink, everyone must drink. The last person to finish has to drink the drink in the middle. How many more times can I say 'drink' in this paragraph?

So we played this for a while. And all was fine. But, after we finished playing, I was sitting down with a friend and chatting, when all of a sudden, drunkness just hit me. I stood up to go to the bathroom, and my legs just collapsed from underneath me.

The next day, I woke up in the Italian's bed for the second time in a fortnight. This time, at least I had all my clothes on...whoops!*

I leave on Saturday. I'm not sure whether I'm sad about this or not. I have had some enjoyable moments, and some not so enjoyable moments. In all fairness, there isn't much going on here that I could report back to you all. Fingers crossed for Christmas and Spain though...

*this story might not be true. I'm just repeating what someone else told me...

post thirty-three: men

2007-11-24T15:46:00.000Z

Men.
Haven't talked about them for a while. Maybe because there wasn't much to talk about.
What I thought was a secure and happy relationship ended horribly in January, nearly a year ago. Even though he was still bothering me at the start of the summer. Hell, I even got a bunch of flowers from him, while I was in hospital, as if he was still trying to prove that he was a 'nice guy'. Not to mention the reason why I was in a car wreck in the first place was because I wanted a weekend at home where he couldn't bother me.

I have had a couple of dates since our breakup, but nothing substantial. Most were ended with 'But you are going away, is there much point?', and one date ended terribly when the Ex walked through the door of the pub I was in, deliberately sat behind me and made faces at my poor date all night. And throughout the summer I wasn't really up for 'dating'; I just spend my time concentrating on becoming physically and emotionally fit for my time abroad.

And now the men in Corsica. They are gorgeous. And they know it. And all the girls here are as thin as rakes. If you want to feel better about the way you look, do NOT come to this island. But nevertheless (great word, should be used more) I met one. Let's call him Frenchman. And he seemed genuinely interested in me. Hurrah! I thought.

I went to the pub a few times with Frenchman, saw a few live band, and we even met up in the French half term when I went to Nice for a few days with a friend (he is from there originally) and it was great. So last week after my adventures on a horse, he came and picked me up, took me back to his apartment in the next town, where he had prepared this amazing chili con carne, which is always a winner, and I stayed overnight.

The next morning, we were sitting down with our croissants (of course) when there is a knock at the door. He opened it, and in walked his girlfriend, 'surprising' him as a romantic gesture.
She turned on me.
'Who is she?' She shouted at Frenchman.
'She is my friend,' said Frenchman. 'She came by for breakfast. She is an Erasmus Student that I look after.'
I have never been so horrified by anything in my entire life. He didn't even make eye contact with me, and he just expected me to lie for him as well.

She believed him.

The worst of it is, he had to drive me home, and she still believed him. It is a forty minute round trip, so there was definately no possibilty of me 'popping around' especially at 10am on a Saturday. The car journey was a silent one.

When I confronted his friends later about it, they were shocked as he had seemingly never mentioned her existance.

Even worse, last night I got absolutely rat-arsed and went home with an Italian man, another man who I later find out has a girlfriend.
I have moved from being cheated on, to being the other woman. And I don't like it.

Roll on Christmas.
The only two men I'm trusting from now on: Daddy and Santa.

post thirty-two: horse, part two

2007-11-16T13:11:00.000Z

So there I was; sat on a horse inches away from a river, preparing to get wet.

I should explain about Corsican rivers. Throughout the summer they are completely dry, and throughout the winter they are mostly made up of melted snow and ice that flows down from all the mountains. The riverbed, therefore, is made up of very large and slippery rocks, and the water is literally only just above freezing temperature.

Mobi went into reverse, and started to back away. Obviously he didn't want to get wet either.
'Allez, Jim!' cried the instructor.
'Allez, Jim!' cried the other French Students.
'Come the fuck on, Gemma!' yelled the German Flatmate.

I urged him on. He turned his head and started nibbling my trainers. Great. I kicked him. He took a step forward. I kicked him again. He took another step forward.

Several minutes later, we are back at the edge of the river.
'Allez Mobi,' I said, and he took his first step into the icy water. The other students burst into applause from the other side of the river.
'Fuck you all,' I said. My German Flatmate is the only one who understood.

A moment later, I was in the middle of this river. Mobi stumbled and slipped over the rocks under his hooves. I lost my balance and ended up with my arms around his neck. He turned his head around and eyed me suspiciously. Then his whole body followed. He was going back the way we came.
'Wrong way! Wrong way!'
'I know!'

I eventually took control, and crossed the river without any further hitches.

And then the heavens opened, and I got soaked anyway.

post thirty-one: horse

2007-11-13T13:12:00.000Z

Last Friday, I got on a horse for the first time in about, well, nearly twenty one years.

My German flatmate, who is a riding instructor back in Germany at the weekends, managed to persuade to go with her to a local stable with a group of her friends, only one of whom I had met before. Reluctantly agreeing, I found myself sandwiched in between two people in the back of a Peugeot on the way to Omassa, a village not far from Corte. Chatting away happily in a language that I should really be fluent in by now, I managed to work out that I wasn't the only beginner; in fact, my German flatmate was the only person who had actually been anywhere near a horse.

So, we arrived at the stables. A woman met us, introduced us to some horses that were in the stable block, and then proceeded to tell us that all of the horses that we would be riding were in a field. Twenty minutes walk away.

An hour and a half later, we returned to the main stable area, having had to bribe the bloody animals with bits of whatever we had in our pockets. My horse, aptly named 'Mobidic' (and he literally was the size of a whale) was also stopping to eat the grass along the way.

We groomed them and I even managed to put the saddle on without too much trouble. I did have a slight panic attack over the bridle ('You want me to put my fingers where?!!') but we managed to get them into the little sandy arena without too much more effort.

Them came the next challenge: we had to mount the buggers. My flatmate and two others managed to get on theirs without a hassle: I had a major problem. Not only did I have the largest and fattest carthorse ever, I also am a bit restricted in my leg movements ever since I got pulled out a great lump of metal that used to be my car. After a few (French) words of encouragement, and several leg-ups, I managed to get on Mobi. My legs by this point, having run around a field with a halter as well, were feeling the stretch.

We trotted around the menage for a bit, getting used to the feel of our horses. Mobi seemed only to have two speeds; Dead Slow, and Stop. The cries of 'Allez, Jim!' (The French just cannot pronounce my name, so I'm either Jim or Jamaica). Then came crunch time: We were taken on a 'balade': or a 'hack' in English. Bearing in mind that I can just about scrape by in everyday French, trying to understand how to ride a horse through water without it rolling over with proving to be more difficult...

post thirty - lost in translation

2007-10-24T15:48:00.000Z

'I want to give you a pleasure?'
'You mean, you want to do me a favour?'

'.....Yes... I need to improve my English so I must travel to a country Anglosaxophone....'

the best language cock ups so far. Thank you, X.

post twenty nine - cheat

2007-09-30T20:07:00.000Z

I decide to go home for the weekend. I don't have much else to do, and I have a lull in my schedule before everything kicks off, and I quite fancy a bit of my Mum's Sunday Roast. There is something about your mother's Sunday Roast - nobody else's mother quite gets it right, but somehow, your own mum makes Delia Smith pale in comparison.

I leave the M5 and head off down towards Glastonbury. I've been travelling for six hours now - it's dark, and I'm cold and tired. And then I get stuck. Stuck behind the largest tractor in the world and it's trailor. It isn't a typically slow tractor, but it stands on the way between me and the warmth of my mothers house. I put my foot down and move out to over take.

Suddenly there is a blinding flash of light and I wake up in a pool of sweat.

It was my first flashback, and I doubt it'll be my last.

At this point I feel incredibly homesick. I never thought the accident had affected me that much. Physically, I have almost completely recovered. I have lots of scarring over my body which at the moment look fierce but will fade in time. I never would have believed that I would be mentally troubled by bad dreams and flashbacks.

There is not a day that goes by, however, when I don't think about how I cheated death. I know how lucky I am.

post twenty eight - supermarket

2007-09-24T08:31:00.000Z

Whilst doing a spot of laundry, I thought it would be a good idea to nip down to the local supermarché and buy myself some bits and bobs. I spent a grand total of 5 minutes picking up a baguette and some wine (of course).

However, I then spent a another 45 minutes in the queue at the tills. Why? Various reasons. The first reason of course being that someone in front of me collapsed. I was very concerned, and obviously tried to help, but being not that brilliant in French it was limited. When I stood up again, having NOT MOVED from the spot I was standing, I discovered that my place in the queue had been snatched by two old people who obviously couldn't give a rat's ass about anyone else. These eldery folks then proceeded to tell me that I couldn't be served here, and not to put my stuff on the counter!

I played the foreign card and called them a load of obsenities under my breath, whilst pretending not to understand. There was a long queue at the laundrette too.

post twenty seven - je suis en Corse..

2007-09-04T17:24:00.000Z

Made it. It's hot and lovely.

And deserted. I am one of the first students to get here, but that's not a problem. Getting my room was. I must have been directed into at least seven different offices before someone was willing to help me. The system of registration here is shocking! I knew it was going to be bad but I never ever thought it would be it was, especially when there are no students here!

But I've made it, and I've been around the town of Corté, and its very nice. The wine isn't bad either!
My friend GB gets here on Sunday, so at least I'll have an ally. Trying to speak French to unhelpful office admin people doesn't do much for my confidence!

Blogger, Google et al are now all in French. Hopefully this all works!
^Corté

post twenty six - I'm off

2007-08-30T12:13:00.000Z

My summer has been a bit of a washout.

I've had more x-rays this summer than I ever thought I would have in a life time. All the scans and the physio are starting to take their toll, and I'm exhausted. I've never experianced a headache like it. I lost a shed load of weight (not such a bad thing..) but my muscles are totally wasted away from not doing anything. Getting back in a car was bloody difficult as well, even though I'm not able to drive at the moment (stresses me out apparently!). My car, funnily enough, is a write off, as did the car I hit. My mother was going on about getting me a new one for my 21st in December, but I can't face thinking about it right now...

.. as I'm packing, to go on my year abroad. A LOT of strings have been pulled, but I'm finished with all the physio and weekly check ups. I've been declared fit and healthy, and ready to bugger off into the sunshine(and do some work, obviously). Just as my hair is starting to look less patchy, which is ace, and I don't have any scarring on my face which is a blessing in itself.

My flight is on Saturday, to Corsica. My dad is taking me over, somehow they don't trust me with transport!

post twenty five

2007-07-16T23:45:00.000Z

OK, so, been away for a while - several reasons for that.

1. Ex - Boyfriend. He found out where I lived, called me, told me he was standing outside the front door with a petrol bomb all ready to be lit. I looked out of my window, saw him there, and called the police. He was taken in, questioned, found to have no threatening materials on him whatsoever, and released after having his fingerprints taken. His new tart has stood by him.

2. Three days later, I was involved in a head - on collision which ended up with me in hospital for ages with severe chest and neck injuries. Thankfully no one died - I was the worst injured and it was my fault. The air bag in my car failed, so I still have reminders of the whiplash injury I got as well, I'm back at work but struggling. Trust me folks - don't overtake tractors.

I was awake enough to watch most of the Glastonbury coverage on TV. I could see all the light and stuff from my house, you lucky gits.

But I'm back. Hopefully this marks the end of a totally shit start to the year.

Fingers crossed....

post twenty four - the ex

2007-05-11T18:02:00.000Z

Last night my stupid horrible ex boyfriend called me and told me he was going to fire bomb my house.

He is currently in police custody.

post twenty three - booo

2007-05-06T12:46:00.000Z

BeachDate (TM) just wants to be friends. Boooo.

Still, he's a friend gained I suppose, looking on the bright side an' all.

So last night I broke a promise to myself.... I went to the local off licence, bought a bottle of wine and a large bag of giant pretzels, and sat and watched Bad Girls all night.

Thanks to the pretzels, I was on the ceiling, but a good time was had by all!

post twenty two - life's a beach

2007-04-30T15:51:00.000Z

How brilliant was the weather this weekend?
Even in usually rainy Wales the sun shone constantly, so a big group of us headed onto Ynys Mon (Anglesey for the English amongst us) for a BBQ on the beach. We stayed there until well into the night, and it didn't really get cold at all.

... and I bought a date along... :-) .... which was great being in a big group of friends, kept it informal enough, and I did feel brave enough to jump on his back when we went swimming in the sea... and he didn't drop me!

... until I said 'put me down'...

Hope everyone else had a good weekend too! x

post twenty one - watch the language

2007-04-25T13:29:00.000Z

In the style of Bridget Jones....

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hahaha I forgot my fucking prompt cards and had to do the whole fucking thing from memory.

If I wasn't hyper and in a strangely good mood I would be worried.

I think it went ok. Oh well, the Spanish one is the same time next week.

post twenty - panic

2007-04-24T17:33:00.000Z

It's exam time.

At one o'clock tomorrow I have a French Oral exam. On the British Education System, past and present.

I am so screwed.

post nineteen - little old man

2007-04-20T18:24:00.000Z

A little old man came up to me in Halfords today, and asked me firstly what an Ipod was, and secondly what a 'blog' was.

I tried to explain, but I don't think he really understood. Especially as he didn't know what the internet was. Apparently he read it in the newspaper this morning.

He said he was going to ask his grandchildren, and then get back to me.

.... I'm waiting with baited breath.

post eighteen - home sweet home

2007-04-02T21:36:00.000Z

Ah.... I'm home. In Glastonbury with the mother.

WITHOUT TICKETS.

It's a bit of a sore subject at the moment. Everyone is going.... except me. And the fact that I live in Glastonbury just rubs it in. Booooooo.

And I also am back in my receptionist job at the lawyers. Same clients, same attitude problems.
I could go on a massive rant about them, but, I'm still annoyed about the tickets.

Oh well, enjoy Shirley Bassey without me. I shall watch from the comfort of my own living room, with a clean bathroom that I'm not sharing with 150,000 other people...

... it is of little comfort.

post seventeen - mother's day

2007-03-21T00:26:00.000Z

I call my mum.
Not too early mind - she likes a lie-in on a Sunday.

'err..... Hello?'
'Hi Mum, it's only me, just thought I would call and say 'Happy Mother's Day', sorry I can't be there. Thought we could have a nice chat instead.'
'err...... No problem darling, but, can I call you tomorrow instead?'
'Ye-ess.... where are you?'
'err.... I'm in Exeter.'

Feeling unwanted, I call my dad.
'err.... Hello?'
'Hi Dad... where are you?'
'I'm in Cornwall. Is everything ok?'
'Yeah, I just thought -'
'OK, well I'm a bit tied up at the moment, I'll call you tomorrow, love you.'

I just thought I would call and tell you that last week I knocked myself unconscious and had to go to hospital and no-one told you. You dirty dirty parents.

They felt mega guilty today though.

post sixteen - new life update

2007-03-08T22:28:00.000Z

It's been hard to adjust to my new life.

Despite being very ill over the past couple of weeks, with flu and tonsillitis and everything else thrown in, I have had a bit of a rough time.

When I first moved into my new house I had mixed emotions. It probably didn't help that my Dad came to help me move, and I hadn't seen him for ages. After he left I fell ill and got rather depressed about everything going on.

Obviously while I was sick and trying to get life moving again I was still getting a bucketload of abuse from the Ex. Today for example, I had 8 missed calls from him within the space of 15 minutes, his reason for calling being that he wants to meet up for a coffee and a 'chat'. This isn't unusual for him, although I do know that he has gone back to the Bitch he left me for. Why she is happy for him to do this is beyond me.

I have started to catch up on all the work I missed, although it has been a struggle. I'm watching all of my classmates struggling, and they haven't had the emotional stress that I have, so I either hide it very well or I'm missing something...

I'm also starting to go out again, and do the things I love, maybe it's time for a picture...

I love living in Wales.

post fifteen - back to normal?

2007-02-20T17:31:00.000Z

Righty-ho.

I am in my new home. The people who I'm lodging with are all lovely, except they are all studying the same thing so I feel a teeny bit left out. Especially because at the moment they are all downstairs at the moment doing a group project and I'm sat in my room reading Jules et Jim. Which is the most uninteresting book. Ever.

I also have the flu. This isn't what I had envisaged for my first few nights at the new place, but hopefully it will go away soon.

According to one of my old housemates, the ex SCREAMED at everyone else in the house when he realised I had gone. Apparently they should have stopped me from going. They quickly put him straight. Sunday night I received a torrent of abuse via text, voicemail and email. And yesterday I saw him walk past the front of my house on his way to work. Fortunately I have parked my car elsewhere to deter him, as I don't want him to know where I live, although this being an exceedingly small town I doubt it would take him long to figure it out!

So now hopefully my life can regain some aspects of normality...

post fourteen - moving on up..

2007-02-15T16:47:00.000Z

This weekend I am moving house. It is costing me a lot of money to do so, but I think in terms of my personal happiness it will be for the best.

These past few weeks have been completely unbearable, as most of you will completely understand. Last night however I knew I had made the right decision. I was out getting very drunk with all my single friends (and being chatted up by an extremely nice young man), when I looked at my phone. 33 missed calls, 7 texts, 4 voicemails.

Apparently he had locked himself out. The thought hadn't occurred to him, however, that he could have knocked on the door and the other people we live with might have let him in. I stood firm, and ignored it all.

Two thirty in the morning however, when I roll in from my night out, he is sat on the stairs waiting for me, with a Valentines present - a book of love poetry.

Then this morning, he walks into my room without knocking, when I have just got out of the shower and am completely naked. I screamed at him to get out, and all he did was smirk and say 'Don't worry, I've seen it all before.'

He is going to Glasgow tomorrow. I am moving on Saturday. I wish I could be there on Sunday to see his face when he comes into my room and discovers I'm not there....

post thirteen

2007-02-05T23:20:00.000Z

This has been another bad week.

He has now finished with the new girl, and wants to get back with me. Except I don't want him back. Every time I tell him no, he goes running back to her. I wish he would bloody well stay there.

On Wednesday I got back from a lecture to find my room (which doesn't have a lock on it for health and safety reasons - landlord) turned upside down. Every card, letter, present, photgraph, everything we ever shared was strewn all over the place.

That same night, I got back from the club (see previous post, he decided not to go thank god) to find him in my bed. Then he wouldn't leave. Only to leave after an hour and then come back 5 minutes later and GET INTO BED WITH ME!

Now, every time I 'have a go' at him, I 'make him go depressed and feel suicidal'.

I'm sorry that he feels like this (if he honestly does) but I haven't done that, this whole situation is completely his doing. It's the guilt trips that are getting on my nerves now.

I am looking for alternative accommodation, as he won't. the Bugger.

post twelve - what went down...

2007-01-26T11:33:00.000Z

Every Wednesday the Student's Union at my university have an 'indie' night, where they play rock, indie, metal and various stuff that you wouldn't hear on a mainstream night. That means no Black Eyed Peas, no Baywatch theme and no Britney. It is precisely for that reason I go. Every week.

So this week, is the first week that my bastard ex-boyfriend decides to go. With the 'new' girl. and promptly comes to stand where I am, and snog her face off. Wanker. I dissappeared into the ladies where I sat crying for about an hour, with my friends rallying round, bitching about him as best they could. Eventually, CJ went out and told him he was being an asshole, and he came in to talk to me.

I didn't hold back. My friends were restraining towards the end. I told him it was an absolute kick in the teeth, as he never EVER came to this night with me, yet he was quite prepared to come with her. I screamed evey name under the sun at him, telling him he was a useless boyfriend and didn't deserve me, that I wasted a hefty proportion of my life on him, and that he through it all away for some tart he met over Christmas.

He sneered at me. 'Me and N have so much in common, and we never did. You don't own this night, I can come out if I want.'

I learnt the next day that 'N' was so upset at what I said to him, that she cried, and according to a certain tosser, noone has ever made her cry. Shows what a heartless bitch she is then! She knows exactly what she has done wrong, now she is paying for it in guilt.

I passed her in the High Street today. Looked her straight in the eye, then turned away with my head held high.

I have just heard that she was going to come and talk to me at the same time as him. If she had, she would have regretted it. I regret nothing of what I said, as every ounce of it was the truth. And there is so much I want to tell her about him, but I can't for fear of being seen as bitter and twisted.

Which of course I am, but with good reason!

post eleven - saturday blues

2007-01-19T12:19:00.000Z

This has been a hideous week.

Still living with someone who breaks your heart and leaves for for someone else is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I can't leave this house, as I don't want to still have to pay the rent for somewhere I don't live, and he refuses to leave. One thing he did say to me though is that he would never bring her back here. He promised me.
Except that last night he broke this promise, and possibly his bed frame. She was obviously faking.

Still, on the bright side, I have a mighty army of friends around me who I can call upon should I need them. And this week, they have proved their worth many times over. I only hope that soon I shall be able to repay them.

And its also good to hear that I'm not the only one who has to deal with things like this. Its very tough at the moment, but I know I'm not alone. In fact, the primary reason I write this blog is as an outlet for everything that goes on in my head. To see something written down makes it easier to understand somehow!

post ten - the end of an era

2007-01-12T18:17:00.000Z

My boyfriend of nearly two years doesn't love me anymore.

post nine - what not to wear

2007-01-10T20:07:00.000Z

'You look like you've just come back from the stables. Is that what you're going out in?' JB, aka Dad.

'It is actually,' I reply. 'I've seen loads of girls around in skinny jeans and boots over the top. Kate Moss does it.'

'But baby,' he squeaks through his tears of laughter, 'you aren't exactly the same stature as Kate Moss...' Harrumph.

I head downstairs to the kitchen, where I am met with guffaws from HT and PJ.
'Hows the pony?' they cried.
I changed into a skirt.

Kate Moss never had to put up with this shit.

post eight - the journey

2007-01-08T22:50:00.000Z

We all pile into PJ's Vauxhall Corsa. There are four of us. Naturally the two tallest, myself and JB, are shoved in the back. And climbing into the back of a car with only two doors has never been an easy feat for me. It makes me feel like I have an enormously large bottom. Which I don't*.

Our destination for the day: the next Town, as that is where the local government offices are. We are being sued by them for non-payment of council tax, so we have a bit of a problem. Being the non-tax-paying students that we are, we didn't find this out until we returned this week from our parents. Our supposed court date is Thursday.

So we leave our little cul-de-sac (read: narrow road in the Ghetto) and set off.
Twenty minutes later, we have driven a grand total of two hundred yards(they are installing a new traffic light system. Obviously it's not working.), and it dawns on us that we have absolutely no idea as to how to get to the council office. we make a conscious decision to turn back and get the SatNav (christmas present from Dad of PJ). Unfortunately for us, we are in a one way system and therefore have to drive around the entire town to get back to our house, thus adding another ten minutes to our journey. HT gets out, deciding to walk and therefore hoping to get there before us so we dont waste anymore time.

We arrive at the same time, HT having stopped for a beer along the way.

*This said, I don't buy jeans from GAP, as they are made for arses the size of pinheads. Maybe it's just me.

post seven - itchy feet

2006-12-10T18:42:00.000Z

I'm getting itchy feet.

Maybe it's the rain, which at the moment is horizontally sheeting through this town.

Maybe it's through boredom. I am honestly sick of staring at these four walls. I keep shifting my furniture around so I get a different perspective of my rom every few weeks.

Maybe it's because JB went travelling through Eastern Europe without me in the summer, and I wanted to go but couldn't due to work reasons ( I needed the money).

Maybe it's because he won't shut up about it, and how brilliant it was.

Maybe it's because I have been filling in a shit-load of paperwork in preparation for my year abroad, and its seems so long to wait.

Maybe because all those at my uni who are doing three languages are leaving after christmas and wil be away for eighteen months.

Maybe, just maybe, it's because I'm learning languages and about new cultures, and I want to go. NOW.

post six - nothingness

2006-12-10T18:14:00.000Z

It isn't nothingness in a bad way - like the way you feel after a break up.

It's nothingness in the way that, I have done absoloutely nothing today.

I woke up, saw the rain sheeting down outside, and made a conscience desision to not move for the entire day.

Therefore, except to use bathroom facilites and to cook food, I have not left my room.

I am still in pyjamas (well, little shorts bought in LeClerc and a t-shirt from Step-Gran with 'Florida' on it).

Although, I have written 300 words of a French rédaction on the benefits of work experience.

So, my time hasn't been completed wasted.*

*notice how I used 3 conjunction to start my sentences. I'll be using 'and' next. I was good at grammar at school. Look what university did to me.

post five - birthdays and hypochondriacs

2006-12-06T19:07:00.000Z

It was my birthday at the weekend.

Not quite a landmark; sort of in between actually; but then, you are only 20 once. Though the actual day itself was a total wash out.

At around 12pm, HP, my lovely american flatmate, rolls in from her 'night away'. She takes a shower, and then decides that she needs to go to A&E. Right now.

So we wait. And wait. And wait. For 3 long hours. Of course, you have to take into account that HP isn't used to waiting. In the States you see, you pay and get seen immediately. She turned into one of those irritating people in Casualty or Holby City who bug the nurses for attention every five minutes. To be fair to her, a person with a suspected broken toe (it turned out to be 'just a stub') was seen before her, and she was having chest pains.

When we got home, I readied myself for a night out while she called her mother to bitch and moan about the hospital system in the UK. Didn't bother mentioning that healthcare is free over here.

I went out without her, got very drunk and wasn't quite sure where I ended up. Think cocktails were consumed at sone point. I learned the next day that we got thrown out of Wetherspoons.
fantastic.

By the way, HP's illness? Toncillitis. Oh yes. The chest pains probably were related to the fact that, when she actually eats something, its a whole load of crap. Bless her. she knows that she is a pain in the arse.

post four

2006-11-26T19:22:00.000Z

Tescos.

I hate the place. It's a vast, empty, unfriendly 'factory'. It doesn't sell everything; and what it does sell can always be found somewhere else for cheaper. It claims it is 'open 24 hours a day'; yet last weekend I got bullied out by several members of staff at 3.50pm in the afternoon. I have also witnessed several marriage break ups in there, somewhere between the vegetable and the alcohol aisles.

So why go there?

We appear as a nation to have grown accustomed to having everything in one place, and then some. We as consumers have far to much choice. For example, on the shelves right now are over 20 types of chocolate biscuits. Is that really neccessary? In my humble opinon no, unless you are planning an extravagant chocolate biscuit party.

By comparison, Lidl, which is a five minute walk (as opposed to a 10 minute car journey) doesn't have this choice. You want chocolate biscuits, here, have these ones and shut up. You leave having spent less than third than what you would have in Tescos (as there is no magazine section, DVD aisle, clothing racks or electrical equipment store. What is even more amusing, is that these products have been shipped across from Germany. My milk in Tescos has apparently come from Wales. So why is it 50p more?

I can moan and moan for hours about how much I hate Tesco and Sainsbury's and Asda and the like. There will never be an answer. Once they have managed to close down all the other local stores that I know I should frequent, there will be no choice any longer.

Tomorrows moan: SUVs and the idiots who drive them (only joking)

P.S. My mothers christmas present was purchased today at Tescos. She will be the proud owner of the new Trivial Persuit DVD game, as I saw it on the shelf and decided I could not be bothered to wait until nearer the end of December.

Hypocrite: yes.

post three

2006-11-25T09:55:00.000Z

After I finished writing my last post on Thursday, I spent some time with one of flatmates, HT, talking to an old school friend from Venezuela. AT now lives in Leeds with her fiancé, but is hoping to come and visit us around Christmas time. I would sincerely love for that to happen.

About thirty minutes later however, HT walked in on me and my boyfriend JB in a very compromising position. I will never forget the look of pure horror that flashed across her face.

Yesterday was less exciting however. The exam I had was more difficult than I expected, although most of the beginners students left before myself and the rest of the advanced students, so maybe that says something. Before the exam I sat in the pub nearest the university with my girlfriend CJ, with HP joining us around an hour later, discussing spanish lecturers, french lecturers, travelling next year, and doing some revision.

Last night my flatmates JB, HP, HT and PJ went to the student union main bar to support one of our friends DJing there. Unfortunately, they put him on first, and in a tiny little side room, so there was no one else there listening to him. He was certainly a lot better than the girl that followed him.

One thing that got me were the strobe lights. They make me feel extremely weak and dizzy, and give me a terrible headache, so we left at around one am.

I am now staring out of the window overlooking my town, thinking that today is going to be a very grey day.

post two

2006-11-23T12:49:00.000Z

The exam went OK, I think. I don't want to get my hopes up but I'm fairly certain of at least a passing grade. Unfortunately, I'm not sure the exam went well for everyone. CB did no work towards his exam whatsoever, and relied on his fluency to get through. To be honest, he did no research and I doubt that he will get a decent grade. YBG read all of his off the internet. My heart did go out to one of my girlfriends NA, who researched and presented hers so well, but stumbled over her words during question time. She left the room in tears. I felt horrible as I'm not great in those circumstances. I would be a terrible mother.

I now have to get on and revise for a Spanish Grammar exam tomorrow. The joys of student life.

My mother phoned today, in tears. Her arch nemesis, SM, has hired a private investigator to track her movements, and even mine. This woman now knows where I live, what my degree is in, where I'm going to be living next year, my phone numbers, my social security number, my bank details, and my email address. It's not even me that she has a problem with.

SM believes that my mother is the cause of her marriage break up. This is not true. I can't understand how this woman thinks she has any reason to do this. It isn't going to acheive anything. Her husband left her four years ago and is now with my mother. He still pays the mortgage of the house she is occupying alone, as their children have long grown up and left home. The poor woman must honestly believe that PM will go back to her. In some ways I feel sorry for her, although hiring a PI was the last straw in a long line of stalker like tendencies.

My mother shies away from conflict. I sometimes wish I was more like her. Unfortunately I take after my father. I don't posess the ability to back down.

post one

2006-11-22T22:03:00.000Z

I'm sitting in my room in North Wales preparing for an oral exam I have tomorrow in Spanish. I am nowhere near prepared for it, and I probably won't sleep tonight for worrying about it. I am tempted just to go to bed and leave it until the morning, but the exam is at 10am and I know I won't get up early enough.

I have never drunk so much juice in all my life. It'll all be worth it eventually though, when I finally get the good grades that I've been chasing all my life.

My car got vandalised today for the second time. I have never had this problem anywhere in Europe before, and it's a shame that it's happened here in North Wales because I am having such a wonderful time here. I have met so many interesting people and my studies are really interesting. I went to the local garage to pick up the parts I needed (last time it got vandalised, they bashed the hell out of it and stole the stereo, this time they stole the windscreen wipers and scratched the windscreen) and decided that my girlfriend (HP) and I could fit them ourselves. The instructions were non-existant, and we could not figure it out between us, so we headed back to the garage. It took the guy less than 30 seconds to fit all three. Never before have I felt like an inadequate woman. When we returned home, HP headed off to a lecture, and I had to restrained my flatmate and boyfriend, JB, from punching the people who live at number 11, as he thinks they are responsible. Honestly, I agree with him. They have never liked us, and always detested the fact that I park in front of their house, even though I have every right to do so, as there are no parking restrictions and they don't even own a car themselves. The car is now parked a mile up the road, in the only safe place in this town.

Have just watched a new programme on the shocking actrocities happening in North Korea. I can't understand how some humans can treat others. It makes me feel physically sick to think that people are being executed because they were fighting over bread. It does make me realise how lucky I am to be able to afford (to a certain extent) £30 to buy new wiper blades. My life and my troubles can be easily put into perspective. To think, I am sitting here worrying about an oral exam, when, on the other sided of the world, other are worrying about how they are going to feed their families tomorrow.

I currently feel very humble.