Owner: Ode to Albatrosses URL:http://odetoalbatrosses.blogspot.com Join Date: Sat, 03 Feb 2007 10:28:21 -0600 Rating:0 Site Description: The comparison of love to flight, and then my place in the scenario: feet firmly on the ground and watching as the other birds all fly away. Site statistics:Click here
Wannabe Casanovas 2006-09-18 09:31:00 I met a guy. Six three-ish, blonde, gorgeous blue eyes. Casually devastating. We put him on camera. He looked into the lens, gave it a smouldering look, and told it solemnly, “I love you.” To a camera. When you played the film back though it suddenly wasn’t an inanimate object he was speaking to, it was you. You felt like it was real, you felt like all he wanted to do was rip your clothes off and show you just how much he loved you. That sums him up. He’s attractive in the classically perfect way. When you separate each feature off they’re good, but when combined it’s magnetic. Basically he’s just sexy as hell. But his appearance, while gorgeous, has absolutely nothing on his personality. He’s a man who’s turned charming women into a true art form. The guy does lines, looks, and even the whole knight in shining armour thing to the many women who fall at his feet and happily turn themselves into distressed damsels for his attention. But it’
Searching for Stars 2006-09-15 18:58:00 Apparently men with really big penises can never get fully hard. This is due to the fact that they are so big and heavy that they don’t have enough blood spare to maintain a full erection. I’m not going to get pornographic with you; I just felt that this information seemed interesting because it explained a few things. Unfortunately, finding out this particular piece of valuable information has been about as close to sex as I have come lately. Or not come as the case may be. Being single full time is occasionally rewarding, and generally better for me than the boring coupled-up counterpart version of me, but it is a slight strain. Looking for love is about as rewarding as looking for your keys when you’re late leaving the house. There’s just no way you’ll find them and still be on time; you might as well just give up. Looking for sex in a drought is similar. When you swear yourself off it you find yourself a magnet for attractive, nice men. When you need it all
Cinderella 2006-09-11 17:00:00 I want what every girl wants. I want to be Cinderella
. I want to fall deeply in love with prince Charming, and I want him to want me so bad it hurts. It’s the fairytale isn’t it? Charming, attractive, rich, popular, and the idea that he could love you back… it’s so unbelievably seductive. But why do we want that? Cinderella, yeah brilliant, you get the guy, you get the castle, and you get the happily ever after. Hey, you might even get a nice warm fuzzy feeling that the guy chose you. Like, wow, you’re so special. The hardcore among you will already know all about my Cinderella complex. Favourite Disney film, fairytale, and all round heroin. When I was eight. When I got older I started to think that I wasn’t quite going to fulfil my goal. I still wanted to so badly, but reality has this way of sort of letting you know when things aren’t quite going to happen. Thing is, when I look at it now, it seems silly. Why wait for a guy who’s so wonderfu
Farewell 2006-09-11 13:57:00 Without the pomp and without the fanfare,I say goodbye with only a kiss.Without the cries of "you're going nowhere!"I just pray that I will be missed.Without the tears and without the sorrow,I stand alone as I wait to depart.Without "we'll miss you"s and without the goodbye's,The only sorrow is within my heart. Read more:Farewell
Going Forth 2006-09-08 15:36:00 "We do not write because we want to; we write because we have to." -- W. Somerset Maugham Due to the reintegration on myself back into the working world and out of the rather comfortable realms of unemployment, I will neither be writing because I want to or have to. Possibly an update or two will be sporadically forthcoming, but generally I shall be too damn busy and tired. Working life; it sucks. Wednesday saw me rushing to Eldon Square to purchase work tops, shoes, and black trousers. Who knew it had been so long since having a proper job (two month nanny escapade not included in this category) that I’d long since lost those few vital things? And I swear those trousers have SHRUNK since I last wore them; I have NOT gained that much weight. So tomorrow at the completely unreasonable time of nine am, back into the employed masses go I. For two whole weeks. Strange, I’m sure you’re meant to have jobs for longer than that. Whatever, it’s a fifty hour week, thoug Read more:Going
, Forth
Pre-Raphaelites 2006-09-07 12:17:00 I love the Pre-Raphaelites. I love the idea of them, and I adore the paintings. The idea is of an artists’ group who fought for the affections of a woman. One woman, a muse, a model, a legend. Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s wife, but model for so many. She’s my favourite, but I love the painting (left), William Hunt’s Isabella and a pot of basil.My sister reminds me of the Pre-Raphaelites. It’s the way you stand in front of the painting and are awed, it’s the way they make you speechless. I fall in love with art, and I fell head over heels for the Pre-Raphaelites. Men fall in love with women, and fall head over heels for her.When we were little I was always the pretty one. The distinction generally wasn’t made out loud by our parents, but it was made by others. It wasn’t a huge thing, it was just always there. Growing up we went through the phases; gawky, skinny, chubby, ugly, whatever. And eventually, not so long ago, we came out of it nearly finished products.I
The Second Line 2006-09-06 16:03:00 Today, loneliness for me was standing waiting in the town centre public toilets waiting to see if a second line would appear on the do-it-yourself pregnancy test I’d bought from the local Superdrugs.Earlier on in the day loneliness had been waking up feeling nauseous and tender at the base of my stomach. It had been looking through my diary and realising that it was the fourth day of getting this exact feeling for the few hours after I’d woken up, and it dissipating sometime around one o clock.Loneliness was getting out of bed, padding downstairs and dragging The Family Doctor out of the bookcase and looking up “pregnancy” in the index. It was going down the list and saying “yes” to everything on it except vomiting.Loneliness was going back upstairs and checking my calendar, looking to see when I was last due my period, and finding out that I’m just gone two months late. A lost period is no longer due too much consideration. My weight fluctuates all the time, and last Read more:Second
Walking Away 2006-09-05 10:23:00 I came home from Germany like Santa Claus, only with slightly more… distinctive presents. Jewellery, dream catchers, fluffy sheep, and photos of lederhosen I really would have bought had I been able to afford them.Texted David, “when do you want your present? x”In my defence, and this is a very bad defence- it wouldn’t get me anywhere in a decent court of law, I was feeling lonely and pathetic at the time. He replied “anytime” and he came over.I asked him over because I missed him. I can’t lie and pretend that missing him was the only reason I asked him over, and it definitely wasn’t the reason that he came. And it’s stupid. We’ve not been together… four months now.But he came over. We sat on the bed. Stupid place to start off a conversation I know, but while there wasn’t anyone else in the house, it still feels strange trying to sit with him downstairs on the sofa. So we went to my bedroom like kids, closed the door, and talked on the bed.It should have been aw Read more:Walking
, Walking Away
Teasing Cocks 2006-09-04 11:14:00 I use men. I use them to relieve my boredom, to make me feel better, and as devices to make other men feel jealous. And of that ever increasing (and ever more depressing) list of flings, dates, and drunken incidents, I’ve actually only really liked two of them. I give up working out how many men there are anymore, for some reason the joy that came from categorising mine and Stacey’s lists of conquests started to dispel when she became so happy, and I became so sad.As a child I dreamed of being a princess. I dreamt that knights and princes would travel from across the world to win me. As I got older it became less fairytale and more modernized, but essentially the same. Instead of being a princess I was simply Barbie (brunette) beautiful, and the princes and knights became rich and attractive.When life eventually conspired to turn me into the cynical bitch I am today, I figured it might be fun to be an ice queen. To be adored, aloof, and ever slightly detached from every man Read more:Teasing
Maybe its because I'm not a Londoner... 2006-09-03 16:32:00 London has the very best of clubs, and the very worst. My most recent London experience was, unfortunately, the latter.It started at the apartment in Aldgate. Tired and highly strung from spending four days living in extremely close proximity with my sister (the same bed) was turning into a joke. I love her from a distance, but sleeping, eating, and drinking with her is not exactly my idea of heaven. I layered on the scarlet nail varnish and forced myself to endure the few hours of her prancing around the room in a black mini dress, straightening her naturally poker straight hair, and telling me that my eye brows don’t match, I’m too dressed up, I’m under-dressed, my heels don’t exactly match my belt, and do I think her bum looks big in this?I downed the Pimms and lemonade and forced myself to carry on quietly without forcing the tweezers down her throat. A painful tube ride later (strip lighting flashing cheerfully), and a rather awful experience involving eight lemons an Read more:Maybe
What lies beneath 2006-08-28 16:30:00 Her voice is tired, husky and dry. Her hair shows the remnants of styling, but has been mussed up and is now messy across her face. The bed she sits upon is a wreck; sheets twisted and tangled together, the pillows pushed right up against the wall. She stands, crosses the room, walking over her own clothes as she does so. Looks in the mirror. Makeup smudged, eyes dark with mascara and eyeliner. And for a while, she doesn’t move. She just stands as if mesmerised. Trying to work out whether she’s happy or sad, trying to work out why it doesn’t hurt more. Trying to work out why all she feels is a quiet euphoria, a sleepy contentedness that creeps up from her toes and through her limbs like a dull fire. Maybe it should hurt more. Maybe it should make her cry. Maybe she should be sitting realising how much she can’t have. But maybe it’s enough to know that she has had it for a while. Maybe it’s enough to get on with being for a while, and forget about the fal
To clarify 2006-08-25 16:57:00 When I think about life just for thinking’s sake, I envision a sea of sand. Endless piles of shifting sandscape, orange, and dry in the unrelenting heat of the sun. I don’t know why that’s what I think of. It seems such a contradiction when you consider how much life there actually is in a desert. A rainforest would be more logical. But I guess it’s a reflection of my life rather than just life in general. And that is somewhat worrisome. Why do I envision my life as a desolate wasteland? Nothing grows in sand. Yeah, sure, on a beach you’ll get some marram grass and a few bugs and stuff, but that’s right next to an enormous body of water. There aren’t any oceans in my images, its just desert, and deserts are devoid of life. Lately I’ve had the same vision when thinking about love. I asked a question today that I hadn’t even realised was really a question. I used to be so depressed. Maybe it’s just from habit, but I’ve always thought of myself as
Home 2006-08-24 13:28:00 I have been home twenty seven hours and have already:Spent fifty pounds.Drank thirty units of alcohol.Confessed all about my lesbian dream to the other participant in the dream.Left my debit card in two bank machines.Had my debit card rejected three times.Been shopping.Had a conversation about breast enlargement, Wonderbra's, bums sticking out of changing room doors, and pigs in front of an increasingly amused, and incredibly hot, shop assistant.Eaten sushi.Things I haven't done:Unpacked.Downloaded any of my photos onto the computer.Taken my phone to be repaired.Looked for the guarantee to prove that it is really my phone, and wasn't just damaged when I was stealing it from someone else.Fulfilled my promise of commitment-free, fantastic sex with my ex boyfriend.Checked my mobile phone bill.Sent off the application for a provisional driving licence (I actually have enough money too now).Exchanged all my money from Euros to Pounds.SleptAll in all, not especially impressive. And actua
That's Life 2006-08-22 13:38:00 Packing is like getting dressed before a funeral. They’re both so painful, yet also mechanic. My suitcase is huge, it could fit both children in easily, and it’s still just under the twenty kilos required. Though this is only due to severe abuse of the hand luggage rules. I’m allowed eight kilos hand luggage, I’m not sure if that’s enough.Whenever you pack you have to say goodbye just a little bit. Whether you say it to a home, a place, or a lifestyle, it still has to be said. I hate saying goodbye. I’ve said it so often in my life that it kills me, it doesn’t get easier, it just goes on hurting.This one hurts me. I don’t want to say goodbye. I want to go home, I’ve been away too long, I’m too far, and it’s too alien. But I’m saying goodbye to a version of a home. I’m saying goodbye to the only home that hasn’t been completely dysfunctional that I’ve lived in. I’m saying goodbye to a version of normalcy, a routine, a haven. And that’s hard.I’m going
Oddities 2006-08-19 06:48:00 I’ve written my book. It isn’t as written as if I’d actually written it yet, but writing is the easy part of the deal. Ideas, a story line, a decent beginning and end, they’re the things that have previously managed to elude me. But I did it. Sort of. I didn’t realise I had. It was just a notebook in which I noted down a few ideas, etc. But I looked through it last night and was riveted. It wasn’t intended as a story, it wasn’t intended as anything. It is probably the only place I write that I am completely and utterly honest about everything. I’m honest in my blog, but it’s easy to be dishonest by simply leaving things out. I do that a lot.Maybe it’s the honesty that riveted me. Maybe because I’d started out writing something that wasn’t even about me, and realised how much it told about me without my meaning it to. Whatever, it gave me a shock, and it will work. It’s… different. I guess in a way it’s a memoir, and it’s strange. I love it. I want to wri Read more:Oddities
Getting iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin? 2006-08-18 08:24:00 I feel... flat. I'm not sure whether I'm relieved, or miserable, or ecstatic. Somewhere verging on all of them, if that's at all possible.So yesterday I woke up. Looked at the clock, six thirty am. Hmmmm. So that's... what? Five thirty English time, and results come out at eight thirty GMT, nine thirty here... So three hours. Well, three and a half by the time my dad gets in, gets the results, then finds a phone. Bugger.Nine o clock (GMT) finds me on the edge of my seat, small bowl of cocoa pops (or whatever they've changed their name to now) in front of me untouched, and another bowl beside that which I am using to feed the baby some sort of cream coloured mush. Cue phone ringing. Drop spoon, push bowl out of reach of grabbing hands of baby, sprint towards phone on counter, pick up."Hallo?""Hi Harriet, I've got your results here, I don't know what they mean!" Panicked voice of father comes through the receiver. "I can't make head or tail of them! Advanced GCSE gr
See-Saw 2006-08-16 15:32:00 Tomorrow I get my A level results.I've never been so terrified.I hope I don't fail.If I fail then I'm stuck in Northumberland for another year. At least. The idea is so depressing I feel phsically sick. I love home. Adore it. But I only feel this way when I've got a sea and a few countries separating me from it. When I'm there I feel claustrophobic, irritable, and depressed. Permanently. I can't go back and do it all again.But what else is there? The real world? I don't feel ready for it. I don't feel mature enough. I don't feel like I belong in it. I belong in bed with a nice big bottle of sparkling white wine and some Jack Daniels on the table beside me. I belong ten years in the future, or one year in the past, when I've got myself worked out, and have happiness on tap. I can't promise that in ten years time I'll have that, but anything has to be better than this suspended lifestyle I have now. It's been wonderful, but its just been rent-free. A holiday
Decaffeinated coffee 2006-08-15 14:49:00 I told him I was going to be a nun.I just couldn’t think of what else to do. For him it’ll just be a very transparent excuse so that I could get round to the important bit- you’ll have to make do with a postcard sweetie cos I’m not going to sleep with you. I can’t sleep with him. I want to, it was great, but fuck am I going there again. I’m fine. Right? I don’t want to do all that again.I need to understand the situation better. Apparently he’s been telling everyone that I propositioned him. I just don’t know who he told, and the person I thought he’d told said he hadn’t. Confused? Yup, very. I’m not in the right country to sort this mess out. And to be honest, I’m not that bothered if he has said that. I mean, I know that its not exactly making me look great, but I did it, and I am not so naïve that I expected him to not boast about how he was gonna get his leg over. Men are children, and I’m working with children right now, they like to show off.When I fi
Free-Loading 2006-08-13 16:58:00 I’m being a very bad blogger at the minute.It’s just, what with uploading the hundreds of photos I’ve got, and emailing people, and being miserable, and NOT starting smoking… Well, you know, I’ve got a lot on my plate.But, I’ll endeavor to be my usual free-loading self and tell you all whassup in my life at the minute. Take a seat, this may take a while.The first, and probably least, of my problems (though the one I am experiencing most right now) is the fact that a few moments ago, I came to the conclusion that I strongly resemble a guinea pig. It’s the teeth. For some reason they just stick out that little too much over my lower lip in a few (okay, one) of the photos I’ve been uploading for relatives/ friends to see how I’m doing in picturesque Deutschland at the moment. I find this greatly disturbing. What if as I get older, they stick out more and more in an exponential growth that finally ends with me looking buck-toothed and ugly? I’ll look like a rabbit.Sligh Read more:Loading
Soul Searching (Fear and Addiction) 2006-08-10 16:30:00 A long time ago I was scared. I was frightened of so much. I feared falling in love because I’d have my heart broken. I feared having anything more than a fling in case I fell in love. I was scared of going into sixth form and not seeing my friends- scared we’d grow apart. I was worried whenever we went into pubs or clubs in case we got ID’d. I was terrified of everything new, while at the same time afraid of missing out.It’s hard to find something to be terrified of anymore. It’s like wearing an emotional rubber glove. I keep sticking my hands into scalding water, but with the glove on it just feels tepid. In the past few years I’ve done a lot that previously terrified me. In the case of visiting Berlin I literally bought the T-shirt. And I love it, of course. But that rubber glove isn’t just wrapped around my fear; it wrapped itself around my other emotions at the same time.Kate told me I was unreadable. She’s lived with me for a month and a half now and
Revelations 2006-08-02 16:15:00 People see me; glance down at the pram, then look up at me again in confusion. Inwardly I’m screaming, “Of course they aren’t mine you bloody eedjits!” but they don’t take any heed to the silent screams I’m psychically sending out, they just continue to look up and down from me, to the pram, back to me, back to the pram. Yeah, okay, you’re confused. Fine, I mean, I’m pretty sure its genetically impossible for any kids of mine to be blonde, blue eyed, and well… not stocky, but you know, normal looking. My kids are gonna be skinny, and, if not dark like me, they’ll at the lightest have brown hair and green eyes. So two Arian kids calling me, “mama” as I push them around the supermarkets is bound to be confusing.It isn’t the confusion I’m bothered about, it’s the fact that on first glance they see me, and a pram, and they aren’t confused. They’re simply accepting. They only start to get a little baffled when they notice the completely opposing features be Read more:Revelations
Cutting my losses 2006-07-31 16:26:00 At approximately five o clock this evening (four pm GMT), I broke the nail on the thumb of my left hand. To my general irritation and displeasure, it conspired that the nail had not broken off entirely; it had merely broken half way and given up. This gave me the ever fickle gift of hope. Those who know me will probably not think about my nails at all. They're there on the end of my fingers, so what? Well, I don't take great care of my nails in the French manicure and endless stress over the state of my cuticles sense of the word, but I do keep them a pleasant length (approximately five millimeters, but who's counting?) and take some pride in the fact that for minimum care I have pretty good, even, and reasonably clean nails. Thus, the breakage of said nail was pretty catastrophic.Now, normally I'm a "cut off and cease the problem" kind of girl. But lately I've been taking a little more care over my appearance. I've spent a fair amount of cash and time to get this look (hours spe Read more:Cutting
A little bit disturbed 2006-07-29 13:36:00 I never used to remember my dreams. Generally I told people that I simply didn't dream. Of course, I am pretty close to certain that that is physically impossible, but I never had anything to look back on when I woke up every morning. There wasn't even the remnants of a vaguely remembered piece of imagery, or the echo of something that somehow my waking brain just couldn't seem to grasp.Recently, in the past three months or so, I have started to dream. More recently, my dreams have been so vivid that I've woken up and been convinced that the things that happened in my dreams actually occurred. Some of them are completely outrageous and I've known that of course they didn't really happen. For example, when I woke up after my dream that I was both Pierce Brosnan, and a boy I fell in love with in first school's mistresses (at the same time, it got quite complex for a while and was highly amusing), I was pretty sure that it hadn't happened. It sort of felt like it had, but o Read more:little
, disturbed
Okay so... 2007-10-22 15:18:00 Yeah, I know, I lied. But christ, I don't have any sofas, now I'm meant to live without therapy via blogging? I don't think so. (Some of the deleted posts may come back if I feel like it over time, but this a stressful time and place for me right now and honestly I can't be arsed.)Right, so here's the deal.My flat is a glorified death trap. The bathroom floor is mouldy, as in green and slightly fluffy. I was just lying there on the floor thinking "Woe unto me being hungover" and moaning faintly, when I realised that as ill as I was, the bathroom smelt really funky. So, about two days later when eventually I'd managed to recover, I lifted the bathroom carpet and discovered a colony growing out of the chipboard.Those of you who know the slightest thing about building, surveying, generally manual labour type bathroom fitting (obviously not me but my dad told me) will know that chipboard is about the stupidest thing you could put down in a bathroom. It's going to get damp, go
Once I was, Now I am 2007-10-27 16:45:00 An albatross can fly for thousands of miles without getting tired. I've always thought that love is similar to flying; therefore we should aspire to be like the albatross. I’m not an albatross. I can’t fly, I’ll never have wings, and I just don’t have that sort of determination. I’ve been told that some people have dreams that they’re flying, I’ve never had those. I’d love to dream that I’m flying, instead I have crappy dreams where I’m riding a bike along a motorway and that I never get anywhere, or that a giant disco ball falls on top of me, completely flattening me, and just as I’m dying Matt tops it all by breaking up with me using the excuse, “I’m breaking up with you before you break up completely.” Apparently my subconscious has a really bad sense of humour.So anyway, according to me, one day I’ll meet someone, test my wings and I’ll be able to fly. Thing is, I don’t actually really believe in The One. I hear people talk about it, this i
Imagined Happiness 2007-12-01 14:48:00 “One day, eventually, will you marry me?” He gave me that look, the one where they’re not upset or worried, just questioning. “Are you proposing to me?”I giggled, “No, that’s your job.”He smiled, “Then yes.”My mom’s been diagnosed with schizophrenia. At last. In my early childhood she was forever in and out of clinics, psychiatrists, therapists, etc. Dad took her to everyone he could think of but Mom’s always been good with people, and totally convinced there’s nothing wrong with her. She’d go in, and an hour later Dad would pick her up and the therapist would look at him like he was scum, like the problem wasn’t with Mom, it was with him.We knew the bouts of manic happiness and extreme anger weren’t normal; the promiscuity while spouting values on abstinence and no-sex-before-marriage. But we were the only ones who saw it; everyone else just saw an attractive vivacious woman and a jealous angry husband. They didn’t see the children scared, or t
No Trouble Sleeping 2008-03-11 08:50:00 I don’t miss it. I honestly don’t. I don’t know what to tell these people. Sometimes I can see how it would be easier to just give in and tell them what they want to hear. But I don’t need Prozac. I don’t need a therapist or so many drugs I have to alphabetize and cross reference before I can remember which I’m meant to take on that particular day of the week. And I’m not in denial. I’m not even sure what I could be in denial about.I’ve been having trouble staying awake recently. Trouble
waking up in the mornings, trouble staying awake once I am awake, and trouble keeping awake after that. If I rest for too long, or eat too much so I feel satisfied and comfortable then suddenly I’ll be knocked out. For someone who’s always had problems getting to sleep this Read more:Sleeping
Valentine 2008-02-12 16:17:00 Hey sweetheart,I’m no good at Valentine
s, really never have been. I was always the girl that watched other girls with hugely elaborate bunches of roses and mountains of cards. I was the girl who called it an over-commercialised waste of time; an exploitation of the media to ensure Hallmark didn’t go out of business in the mid February card sending abyss that is the late aftermath of Christmas. And, while it totally is all that, it doesn’t mean I didn’t check my mail every two minutes from the 10th of February to somewhere around the 20th, or wish that someone would give me just one card.You weren’t my first real Valentine, but you’re the one that’s mattered. You’re the only person that I’ve ever properly fallen for, the only person that made me say, “I love you.”
Resolutions 2008-01-21 10:56:00 This year I never made any resolutions. It came to the right time and I just didn’t know what to say. Usually they seem so… predictable. I must lose three pounds, I will exercise regularly, I will be more considerate of those around me, I will dedicate myself to my career. And how many people stick to them?I once rejected a boy for the sole reason that he would never go anywhere. He loved his “home comforts,” his job which kept him as close to the nest as possible, I just couldn’t be with someone who never wanted to do anything. A little while earlier, that sweet but hopeless boy not even an issue, I made a resolution.“[I will] Fall in love. Not just lust or like. Actual love. Somehow I think this one may take longer than a year to be fulfilled.”It took me five or six m Read more:Resolutions
A better time for love 2008-01-06 15:16:00 How do good relationships fall apart? Maybe we fall into ruts, get tired of doing the same things, the same people, again and again. Maybe we fall in love with someone else- we don’t mean to, but sometimes you can’t help when you fall, or who it happens to be for. Maybe life gets in the way, a far away job, an illness, even a death. Maybe you’ve just forgotten who it was you fell in love with, and realise that the person you’re waking up next to every morning isn’t it anymore. Honestly I don’t know, if you love someone, why let them go?I never intended to fall in love. I asked him how it felt to be loved by me once, he replied, “how does it feel to have broken the girl who couldn’t love, who didn’t want to, and who loved being single? It feels awesome.”That’s h Read more:better
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