Tuesdays - The New Monday Mornings.

My English teacher is officially the biggest plonker in the world!
We had this five-page essay to do on Emily Dickinson’s poetry and we got it Thursday and it was due in yesterday. I forgot my poetry book over the weekend but I tried my best to do it regardless of the difficulty but couldn’t finish it.
I know it was my own fault to forget my book, I can appreciate that but it was one slip up, I always have my homework done for him and to be honest I’m one of the few who bothers. The class generally waits until last minute to hand work in or they just don’t bother at all. I was one day late with an honest excuse and I handed up my five pages today.
As I did he turned around and in his snide little voice said, “ Oh well that’s a day late Victoria, there’ll be a little letter in the post for you.” I tried to argue my point but then he started banging on and I just left, I turned my back on him and walked out of the class because to be honest, I’m not going to waste my time on someone I don’t respect.
So that little letter was waiting at home for me today, I’ve been shouted at. I yelled back some more until I got my argument across and now the mother is annoyed at him and threatening to phone the school, which I hope she doesn’t because she’ll just embarrass us both.
You might be thinking, yep she didn’t hand her homework in, that’s a complaint form but here’s the norm; you get three warnings for not handing in homework.
Not one.
What annoys me the most is half the class didn’t do it, just like half the class never does anything and they’ve never been punished before and I feel like because of they’re bad track record with him and my bad timing I’m getting the back lash of his anger with them.
I’m not going to whine about how unfair it is because more and more I’m realising in school, nothings ever fair just like nothing will be fair in college or in work or in family or in anything. I’m not trying to be pessimistic but I guess that’s the way life is. You try your best and you push your boundaries and establish yourself as this good person and then your taken the piss out of and it only makes the fall from that high even more painful. I’m beginning to think those scum bags that never do anything, never say anything nice about anyone and never shut up with their false arguments get on best in life. Unfortunately I don’t think I could ever be like those scumbags, I just care too much about things and I say I have no morals but I do, few and far between but still existent no matter how often they get questioned and I will not change my disposition for some pompous English teacher.
And in the words of Emily Dickinson – from my favourite poem of hers-, the root of my trouble;
“The Soul's retaken moments --
When, Felon led along,
With shackles on the plumed feet,
And staples, in the Song,”
From,” The Soul Has Bandaged Moments.”
Oh and the mother is back to her fucked up nonsense about moving back to England and looking at house all the time and ugh I just wish people would get lost for a while and leave me to enjoy the happiness I have right now; the letters seem to be going well, she's smiling and I feel like I'm telling her exactly how I feel!

Thus With A Kiss I Die

Ok so for valentines day I wrote out this really long letter, I mean once I started writing I kind of couldn’t stop, it just hit me in this flow of adoration, so I was stuck with about three pages.
Far too much to read and enjoy!
So I’ve split it up into seven parts and each day of the week I’ll give gf a new part of the letter!
I got aww’d at a lot for that which was really annoying but I’m pretty proud for doing something so uncharacteristically romantic. It made me feel a little vulnerable at first stepping out of that comfort zone but it’s nice. I feel like I’m giving her something she can really appreciate because I know I adore getting nice little letters and random things I can keep to remind me people care.
And wow, do I care!!!
Anyway I’m feeling really weird at the moment! My eyes are being weird! When I look at something it takes me a few seconds longer than usual to focus and decipher but I don’t need the glasses!
But anyway, my biology teacher! I adore him, honest he’s a great man, the kind of guy you’d want to have as an older brother but last night I had this dream that he was dead and my class was at his funeral. That’s ok, it’s just a dream I told myself. Then I woke up and I just got the feeling he wasn’t going to be in but I shook it off because, he’s always in! I don’t think he’d ever missed a class…he wasn’t in! Oh it was scary! I was convinced something happened him until when sitting in the class I heard the booming Dublin accent shouting greetings to those around him. Phew.
But I’ve had weird dreams like that that panicked me before and maybe it’s arrogance to think they could be true but sometimes, they play close to life!
Then again…I still haven’t became a famous author running a book club for all my old English teachers…But one day…

Sunny Side Up

Wow today was the best Monday I’ve had in a long time! I got off six whole classes in the morning just to help set up the gym for the pre’s coming up and I get a merit award for it which will look good on the ole college app’s!
Anyway the pre’s. These stupid ass damn pre’s. For anyone who doesn’t know what I’m talking about these are mock tests before the actual leaving cert which for some odd reason are generally harder than the actual tests.
But this year I’m in the clear, being a fifth year I’ve another year before this dreaded examination is forced upon me however, I’m pretty worried about gf. She’s doing the pre’s and seems really stressed out and the hardest part for me to accept is really I can do nothing to help but occasionally say nice encouraging things! I mean I know rightly she’s going to be fine, she’s intelligent; these stupid tests won’t get the better of her but she seems to think opposite.
So I want to do something really nice for her for that cheesy day on the fourteenth that I cant bare to name without getting a headache! I’m thinking I take her on a proper date or buy her a piece of jewellery? Any suggestions please, submit!

Don't Treat Gay People Like Santa!

It’s fun watching someone cop on to something, like actually watch the penny drop in they’re mind.
There’s a look of confusion.
Then moment of thought.
And at last a shudder of realisation often met with an open mouth, wide eyes and a nod.
I got this at the bus stop today which was surprising because I guessed by now everyone would know I’m gay. Since I did come out like three years ago or something, just not to the family.
But today at the bus stop, gf came and waited with me. I secretly love that because it really shows she wants to spend time with me if she leaves her classroom early or whatever and stands in the freezing cold for about five minutes before my bus arrives; that’s cool. Anyway it was really cold and unfortunately I’m a weakling so I generally get people to hold me to warm me up. Don’t laugh; I don’t wear a jacket so that’s my excuse. So anyway she wrapped her arms around me and I huddled into her but whatever she was holding me there was a lot of bulbs lighting up around us. Later on the bus the girls who I talk to but don’t talk to – if you get me – were just looking at me. I kind of laughed.
But if that wasn’t amusing enough, watching a child figure it out…well not a child but a first year.
She looked utterly confused but later just resumed annoying me as per usual.
Which raises the question in my mind…what exactly do parents tell kids about gay people when they ask? I mean I was never told about gay people! I came across the term lesbian in a book I read once when I was really young and I asked my mother about it and she said it was nothing I needed to worry about.
It would become something she would worry about…ha.
But I think I would have liked if she told me what it meant. I don’t like all this wrapping kids in cotton wool because when they get older and suddenly the cotton wool is ripped away the world is going to seem a much colder place! If someone asks what something means you shouldn’t lie to him or her, nine or ninety! This idea of telling a kid about something and it influencing them is pure rubbish! I mean my mother didn't tell me about lesbians, I still ended up one didn't I?
Tell kids about gays.
Tell kids about santa.
And bloody tell kids when they're budgies die and you wake up in the morning and the cage is empty and you ask where the budgie has gone and your told he's went for a walk, BUDGIES DON'T WALK SO DON'T LIE TO CHILDREN!!!
I think if she asks me though I’ll tell her to mind her own business, it’s none of hers to know and it’s none of mine to tell.

A Hustle Here And A Hustle There...

Hello!
I promise this won’t become a regular occurrence where I only update on a Sunday afternoon but fortunately I’ve became quite busy recently.
You might be wondering why having barely any time spare to write a few lines may be a thing of fortune but I’ve been busy sorting myself out! Yes, day-by-day I am taking responsibility for myself.
You see I had my parent teacher meeting Thursday and well most teachers * except my art teacher who I think is officially in love with me* think I could be brilliant if I wasn’t slightly lazy. My geography teacher is pinning me to get him that A that looks good on his class reports. So basically they all want me to start studying and never one to disobey a teacher * or more so my mother who now steals my laptop until I’ve done at least two hours study* I am pinned to the books every night.
But shhhh, people must not find out or my reputation is gone.
If I ever had one…
OH and my English teacher is an ass! Which is sad because at the start of the year I was convinced that he would be the one to help me reach that podium of literacy glory but no man’s holding me down! You know what he said? That I needed to use less of my opinions and more facts which is just ridiculous and one of the main reasons I’m beginning to hate English. The question he was referring to started with, “In your opinion…” Yes sir, indeed in future I shall not give my opinion but more so I’ll make sure to stick to yours! Ugh I’m so angry with him and he complained about my writing, which was too small? BUY GLASSES!
Also the portfolio is finally being taken seriously!
In other news BAD BUZZ! All right I have got crap circulation cause my feet are all chilblains, which I could cope with you, know? I don’t flash the feet that often like but well somewhere a bit more important has been affected by the cold! My nose! It’s all red and raw and I don’t mean that weird little area around the nostrils, the actual top of the nose! Oh God! I have no idea what to do except increase my daily dose of moisturizer!
Mmmm, I smell dinner…bye!!

Don't Confess.

Did something ever nag at your mind so much that you just retreat to the planes of unsociability and it seems no one can pull you back?
I feel like that at the moment. There’s something worrying me but I think perhaps I’ll try to control my mind. I have a habit of picking up small insignificant details that generally mean nothing and blowing them completely out of proportion. I feel like such a girl saying this but…I want a little attention.
Anyway yesterday I was in the car with my mother and brother – who for the record is near thirty – and he spots these two gay men coming out of a designer clothes store. “ This town is full of fucking gays!” He exclaims. “ Yes, they’re all over the fucking place aren’t they?” My mother replies. I’m a coward, I make no point to them but inside I’m fuming and decide to ignore them.
I expected as much of my brother, he’s a close-minded ‘townie’ kind of guy. You know the type. But I wished for better from my mother, at least in my presence. She’s such a hypocrite you know? She says all the time that she accepts people no matter what race, creed or sexuality they are, literally her own words and then some of the stuff she comes out with…It really does piss me off I can’t stand hypocrites.
Anyway my brother got out then and it was just the mother and I and I wasn’t talking to her at all bar the few muttered necessary replies. Then after we went to a few art shops I decided I’d leave her. I said goodbye to her and said pointedly, I’m going to go meet my girlfriend. Then it was as if it clicked in her mind. She asked me was I okay, did she do something to offend me. I told her no and went to walk off.Then -the shame- she was obviously feeling guilty so instead of saying sorry she makes me – IN A PUBLIC PLACE- kiss her on the cheek and say goodbye, then as I’m walking out – FROM A PUBLIC PLACE – she shouts “ I love you”. AHH! I knew someone who worked there, I legged it and I was afraid from my quick departure a security guard might follow me thinking his pay packet might be bumped up.

Welcome, Ghosts.

14th June 2009
I do not think I have a soul. I think my conscience was abandoned at my creation, carelessly dropped into oblivion. I like to imagine that somewhere in the cosmos, it wanders. The fraction of me that others hold so dearly and I feel I will never know, just floating past the stars and moons and suns, soaring above everything with a caring eye. My omnipotence has no limits when entranced by a somewhat fanatic and narcissistic mind. Yet bound to this earth I am without limits, as I feel no aftershock for my appalling behaviour. Sometimes I craved to feel the pain of guilt, to experience its burn on my skin ripping into my flesh and persistently irritating my soul. I feel nothing of the sort. Sometimes there is a short lived nag that wormed it’s way into my mind, it cries of my sin but is easily squashed and disregarded.
“You never seem to care! You cannot love!” A cry too often aimed in my direction. Yet these declarations fell upon deaf ears. Of course I did not care. I did try occasionally but not a dull thud reached the icy planes of my core. One day perhaps I’ll shatter and some ray of human emotion may peak through the cracks and melt the frigidity that imprisons me.
Vicki Valentine.

I forgot how depressing I could be at times; my poor English teacher last year must have been so concerned. Of course reflecting on this and comparing it to what I write now, I do rather miss the more macabre me. I’ve always had a profound attraction to the extreme and you know above does seem a little mad.

The Solitary Reaper.

I’m struggling back at school something major! It doesn’t seem to be the work so much now, more the people! I’ve had about three weeks seeing a small group of people and now I’ve been reintroduced into a massive social base and I’m overloading a bit.
I’ll admit, I tend to fill the role of the agony aunt somewhat. I know where it’s came from. Being the youngest child when everyone else had moved out, it was basically my mother, father and I. When they would fight – which they often do - my mother would run to me crying and expect me to sort everything out for her. But I won’t speak too much of that. I’ve been the confidant from a very young age so is it no doubt I absorb others troubles?
But it seems now everyone is trying to fill me in on their struggles so I can advise them and it’s a bit of an overload.
I’ve got friends with boyfriend troubles.
I’ve got friends with girlfriend problems.
I’ve got friends with friend’s difficulties.
I’ve got friends with parent stress.
The friend with boyfriend troubles is worried because of wandering interests.
The friend with girlfriend problems is annoyed cause her girl won’t sleep with her and she’s stalking me for advice even though we haven’t talked face to face in years!
The friend with friend’s difficulties is stressed because she feels they’re abandoning her.
The friend with parent stress, well I haven’t really got the full story there but I think its something to do with having a guy in her room that started a big row.
But there’s those and then a thousand other little things that are being updated with each passing moment and I feel like screaming I DON’T CARE but then something within in me compels me to listen.
I spent so much of my life creating this barrier around me to the point where I have a reputation of being impassive and then beneath it all, I’m sorting out other people’s lives and worrying about them and getting involved! And I say I’ll lose no sleep over it but I do.
Which brings me to a pointless conclusion but a personal conclusion anyway, I do care a lot and there’s probably nothing I can do about that.
I often put others before my self but I do it in a subtle way that they don’t notice or thank me.
Yet despite feeling used, I'd have it no other way.
Contrary to a lot of beliefs surrounding my personality, I like helping people! And it’s this early-founded urge to assist those in trouble and an odd fascination with mental illness that have me thinking, would I be a good psychologist?
I could think of nothing more fitting! I would be able to understand the minds of those around me. I’d be able to get paid to help those in need instead of being taken advantage of.
But then I step back and think…what if I’m too caring? What if I get to personally involved in cases, grow attached to patients and then get sucked into illness myself? What if I argue with sick people and tell them to stop whining and get off their arses and do something productive? I’m generally a good judge of when to use different methods to help people. One friend likes humour to distract her. Another likes rough love to motivate. Another likes to talk and I simply listen and at the end give her a hug.
I think for me to peruse such a career could be dangerous. I could be brilliant at it or I could be brilliantly disastrous and end up not asking the questions but lying on the long chair myself answering them.Anyway enough of that, all I was meant to say was that I’m a real sponge for problems and there’s nothing I can do to change it!