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Farewell Post

I've thought about this a lot over the past few weeks and several things including flakiness of livejournal itself have led me to a decision that does make me slightly sad. I've been dumping my brain here for 9 years. I've ranted, raved, flirted and spoken my mind. I've followed some great people and I've made some wonderful friends along the way.

But the fact is very few of those still post here on any sort of regular basis. Perhaps I'm really late in realising this - perhaps everyone has already disappeared to other journal services or stopped blogging completely. It certainly seems that way from almost complete lack of replies or communication lately. Or perhaps I've just become incredibly boring. Who knows.

Either way, I think I'm done.

I might blog elsewhere, not sure yet. I will still probably check in on those who might still update here but I won't be making any more posts.
I'm certain anyone who'd want to keep in touch has the means to do so.

Thanks LJ, thank you all, it's been fun x


Today I managed to locate the one intelligent, competent person working at my jobcentre.
I knew there must be one there. I could tell it was her because everyone in the building seemed to be asking for her help/approval, she was actually able to answer all my questions without hesitation and she had the tell-tale worry lines of someone who is doing the work of an entire staff of idiots.

She sighed heavily when I told her that I'd been advised to let the council know of my new job. They're still not taking anything off my JSA yet so unofficially the council did not need to know until then. She suggested I grab a proof of benefit letter and tell them to release at least the 2 weeks money they owe me so far then go back when I can prove my benefit has been affected.

On the way back to the car I was nearly run over by a pensioner on a mobility scooter thing. She had to be at least 90 and doing about 20 miles an hour along the pavement with a grin on her face. It made me smile. Fair play lady, I hope I get to be you...

So now I'm at home grabbing a quick coffee and psyching myself up to go yell at the council. If I'm out early enough I plan to head into town and visit Occupy LSX at St Paul's Cathedral. I'll have a wander round, see if I can chat to people and if I feel up to it I'll go back tomorrow with a tent and sleeping bag.

I need to make a positive change in my life and this is where it needs to start. I have a feeling Speeding Scooter Lady would approve.
Last night I babysat small children. This morning I taught other small children about counting to 4 and finding a D. This afternoon I opened a letter from the council informing me they were cutting off my housing benefit due to my managing to find a job working 3 hours a week. This evening I listened to my Mother complain about her cold, the fact that her upcoming holiday (3rd this year) could make her cold worse and also that I should write to David Cameron re: housing benefit.

I have reached critical levels of both child tolerance and patience for fuckwittery.
Another night of very little sleep. Thought wine might help, no idea why - it didn't on Tuesday. Can't remember the last time I slept properly.

A lot going on today. Will be responsible for two young children from picking up from school til bedtime, including feeding & keeping entertained. This scares the hell out of me.

Then tomorrow morning I'll be teaching more children music. Suspect I may reach critical child tolerance level.

Posted via LjBeetle

I did it.

Last night I performed infront of people for the first time in roughly 10 years.
To say I was nervous might be the understatement of the year. I haven't felt that bad since taking my grade 8 piano exam. It was only the second time ever that I've played something that I wrote in public.

It went great. Brilliant. Fantastic infact. I feel so much more confident about doing it again (though don't quote me on that the next time, I will undoubtedly still be a wreck).

I am eternally grateful to the very lovely budgie_uk who got me there despite ridiculous, unexpected and overwhelming traffic on the way to the gig - fuck you stupid Thames Festival! I would've been a quivering pile of nerves on the floor if I'd had to drive through that and then get on stage. What was supposed to be an hour's journey took 2.5 hours but eventually we arrived at The Stag, Victoria.

Seems everyone was running late anyway so no huge rush for me to get up, which allowed for a small tipple from the bar to calm nerves. I'd cut my set down to just three songs due to suffering with a chest infection or whatever all week (at several points wondered if I'd be able to sing at all) and warmed up with a Dusty Springfield song. The audience were friendly enough, if a little inattentive.

Next up was my own song - Perfect Man. Another thanks to budgie_uk for video evidence!

And then there was THIS.

One of my favourites and the audience seemed to enjoy it too as they requested an encore and the whole place seemed to be singing along.

Clapping, cheering, laughing, cheap tricks involving my boobs and a kazoo, plenty of hugs, me = smiling.
Lots of people said lots of nice things, some asked where else I was playing (I can have bookings now please?!) and someone else compared me to Victoria Wood. Blown away by that one..

Still haven't really come down from the high, though my body is starting to ache - now relaxing after being tense for several days - and I am very tired. Last night my brain kept waking me up every hour like an over-excited sibling "omg.. we just.. holy crap.. how cool was... OMG!". Perhaps tonight I'll get some proper rest.

I got a text from the friend who got me along to the gig - "You were brilliant. You really need to make a living out of it!"

Fuck, yes.

Amanda Fucking Palmer

Yesterday myself and a bunch of lovely people - including Mitch & Clara Benn and budgie_uk went to see Amanda Palmer in Brighton.

We were late getting there, meaning I missed a chance to say 'hi' to Neil Gaiman because he was poorly and disappeared early, also missed the support act - Bitter Ruin who I've become huge admirers of over the past few months.

On top of that our designated driver's sat nav took us to a car park it promised was very close to the venue, I walked for half an hour in extremely uncomfortable shoes and developed possibly the biggest blisters I've ever had on the bottom of my feet.

Before anyone comments on 'women and stupid shoes' - in my defence these shoes used to be comfortable when I was heavier but since I've lost weight my shoe size has dropped and my poor feet were sliding around in them creating lethal friction. I gave up and took them off about 100 yards from the venue itself and spent the rest of the night barefoot.

Once inside we all made for the bathroom for last minute touch ups and corseting -

But when I got out I completely lost everyone I knew. Due to it being very dark and a phone signal black hole, despite several scouting missions I spent much of the gig stood at the back alone. Which slightly dampened my enthusiasm admittedly but Amanda was fucking awesome and then I finally found everyone.

Much fuss was made of my corset, showing off my recent weight loss quite nicely; Mitch grabbed my waist at one point and jiggled my ridiculously abundant cleavage seemingly for his own amusement. Hugs from him, Clara & budgie_uk made everything right again and the remainder of the gig was a joyous, shiny, jumpy up and downy affair - I was sad when it was over.

Afterwards I tried to get a chance to chat to and hug Amanda but all I managed was a nervous 'hi' when being introduced by the Benns before being shoo'd separate ways by rather rude security staff. Headed back to London, stayed the night at Benn towers and hung around there most of today including going for lunch at a gorgeous pub by the river.

My feet are falling apart, my back is painful and I'm so tired I'm shaking like an old alchi but fuck me, what a great 24 hours.
Need to tax the car by end of the month. I'd filled out the logbook change of address but apparently neglected to send it so no reminder.
So I looked up nearest Post Office online which clearly stated they did car tax. They didn't.
I go to next nearest and stand in line for an hour. Before setting out, I have diligently printed out all 16 pages of the car insurance documents emailed to me back in March, got my MOT certificate, filled out logbook & several proofs of address/ID should I need them. I was organised.

The insurance company has seemingly sent me all 16 pages of documents except for the single 1 I need. I find this out when I get to the counter. Aggressive Post Office Man argues with me that it's not his fault. I get outside and call the insurers. They'll send an email right away. I head home and check email - sure enough there it is. A PDF letter saying "please find attached a copy of your certificate of insurance" and no other pages.

Two more phonecalls and three more emails later I think they've have finally sent me what I need. *headdesk*
I think I've lost contact with my birth mother again.
After a stressful over-keen amount of messages before Christmas I heard nothing from her for months. I've emailed a couple of times but get no response. I don't know what to think or even if I think anything at all.
I don't know what to say to her, perhaps she doesn't know what to say to me. Maybe that's just how it goes.

Not sure if I've lost anything from a stranger.


It seems almost everyone I know is living in darkness and I wish I was in a place to provide a light.
Truth is, I am not as strong as I wish I was. I don't see good in the world. These days I mostly try to blank it out. I'm not as raw as I once was but I have no shining reason to continue existing other than I don't want to not to right now.

Some days I feel like I'm still numb on ridiculous amounts of prozac, maybe it never really goes away once your brain learns to anaesthetise itself.

I want to make things ok for them. I want to be happy. Not sure I even understand the word so how can I wish it for anyone else? I'm the hopeful one - I want my friends to not be hurting and I try to hope they might be ok. But I'm not enough. Haven't been, probably never will be.

All I can do is be here. I'm well practised at that.
Here and not all there.

Thoughts as words

Do not think you won't be missed.
Do not think your life won't matter.
Do not try to not exist,
Don't believe your mind's own chatter.

Your kindness and your voice
Will still be heard, despite the din
Of distant ghosts and demons here,
You still matter, You will win.

The void in which you pit your battle
Is dark and mean and full of shit
Do not believe that head of yours
You're not alone
You should not quit.