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
Earning my keep 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Today Matt made a list of the coolest things I've ever done. Apparently it is as follows: Raping him - He means me taking advantage of him the first night. I like to think of it as seducing, but I guess his way of thinking is slightly more accurate. Except he could have said no.Buying a vibrator - I never should have told him about that. He was like a kid being told that Christmas was coming twice this year.Head butting the concrete - Drunk, being sick, failing to stay upright while kneeling on the ground, bad night in general. For some reason he seems to think that it was funny. It isn't a particularly long list. It got me thinking though, what exactly have I done to earn my place here on this earth? Have I done anything interesting, spectacular, worthwhile, or well, anything at all? I haven't saved anyone's life, painted a beautiful piece of artwork, had any interesting revelations*, or stood up for any of my morals. Read more:Earning
Irish Charm 1970-01-01 00:59:59 "Hi! How's the wife?"He looked me up and down, and then again with that smirk. That smirk… I'm not sure if I like it or hate it, probably both. "Long gone. Where's your husband?""At home. Girl's night""Ah, one of those" He nodded at me and walked off in the opposite direction.Later I saw him again on the dance floor. He walked over and put his arm around my waist pulling me towards him. "Where are your legwarmers tonight?""At home, I can't wear them all the time. But you can try them on next time I see you"He raised an eyebrow, "Wouldn't your boyfriend disapprove?"I pulled back slightly but spoke into his ear, "I'm not sure. I don't think so. It's probably only the quips about seeing me naked that he wouldn't approve of""Sorry. It's only a problem though if you're going steady. Are the two of you going steady?""Yes"And he backed off. He's far too Irish
, much too cocky, and a womaniser to the bone. I
Being Selfish 1970-01-01 00:59:59 We were at Matt's flat, walking back to his room. One of his flat mates was in the lounge with his girlfriend. His girlfriend who just happens to be my best mate here. She strode out of the lounge, a look of pure misery on her face. Hurt, crying, and him still sitting on the sofa sulking."Come on, we're leaving" She told me, already opening the front door.Matt and I exchanged commiserating glances and I ran into his room and got my stuff. I kissed him quickly, said, "I love you," quietly and ran out the door after her. She was my ride, and she was also desperately in need of some comfort.Later on I realised what I'd done.I told him I loved him, and I actually meant it. It was the wrong time; his flat mates all hate me because when I'm around I "absorb" him. If I'm there his attention is on me. If I go out then he's with me. I'm making the two of them jealous, and that's making it awkward between me and Matt because they don't want me around, and
Cos I cant sleep anyway 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Characters: Me- Part time academic, full time alcoholic. Matt- My rather adorable boyfriend. Professional numpty. Katy- A good friend who lives practically next door to me (and the main reason I met Matt). Bill- Boyfriend of Katy, flatmate of Matt's. Ben- Other flatmate of Matt's. On Sunday night I told Matt I wasn't going out on Wednesday night. On Sunday I was annoyed. We turned up at A to meet the boys. Upon arrival we were informed by Bill that it was a boy's night. He subsequently left in a huff leaving Katy in tears. Matt stayed with me, but there was a whole taxi chase and long walk home for Katy when she went in pursuit only to be ignored when hammering on their front door. And on top of all the shit about me absorbing Matt, and then Ben deliberately blanking us and stuff, I'd had enough. But last night I Bill told Katy he wanted her there.
Longing for the thunderstorm 1970-01-01 00:59:59 I like the smell of the rain. Strictly the rain doesn't have a smell, but it does. Dogs always smell worse when they're wet. Trees always smell more like trees when it's been raining. The rain brings out the smells of things like salt brings out the taste of a sauce. Or one blue flower in a bed of poppies brings out the orange in the poppies.The rain reminds me of home. It reminds me of a place without stacks of buildings, a place where two clubs and a handful of pubs seem like a pretty good thing. It reminds me of walking down paths and having to give way to the herd of sheep coming towards you. It reminds me of a church with no roof, and one bell that doesn't work. It reminds me that once, things were different.Once things weren't so difficult. Once Christmas wasn't looked at with impending doom, once it was a joy and something to look forward to. Once I didn't need to be held tight every night just to prove that as much as my family suck, someone at least cares about m Read more:Longing
Losing Innocence 1970-01-01 00:59:59 When I was little I was the kid that sat at home and read a book rather than going outside and playing with my friends. I was diligent with my schoolwork, and the friends that I made were, to put it bluntly, geeks. I didn't do firsts. In films there's always the girl who is so scared, so bloody afraid, that she puts things off, procrastinates. It starts off with maybe just being too shy to talk to boys, then too shy to flirt, then it's too late, she's twenty odd and she's Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed. The peer pressure completely conflicted me. On the one hand I was thirteen, fourteen years old, not even properly kissed yet, and listening to all these girls talking about having sex with seventeen and eighteen year olds. I felt inadequate, like there was something wrong with me. I felt left out, but also certain that I couldn't do it myself; I was too scared.Everyone just wants to fit in. And worse, they want to be better than everyone else. There was the peer Read more:Innocence
Another one bites the dust? 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Lately I've been thinking too much. I can't help it. He told me he loved me. What else can I do but think about it? I'm scared shitless. Sometimes, when I sit and think about everything, I can see it working out. I can visualize moving into the flat next year to cut the living costs, and because I trust it to work and for him not to fuck me about, etc. But that isn't love. That's staying in a flat with four of my best mates which is logical anyway, and because we get on. Getting on with someone so easily isn't love, that's comfortable. And then there's another part of me that's thinking, "Can I really be with someone who is in love with me when I so obviously am not in love with him?" I can. I can stay with him because love doesn't come at the same time, love grows, and because I do care about him that much. I mean it's been what? A month and a half now? So sue me if I don't fall in love that fast. And some people fall in and out of lov Read more:bites
About the author 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Hatty is a girl of a meagre eighteen years who spends most of her time contemplating things of little interest, or spouting views both religious, political and romantic that cause people to wince. Her two favourite things involve practically any flavour ice cream (though preferably pistachio) and men. She lives in a little village just off the main road to everywhere else, and the only thing she finds attractive about that arrangement is the reasonably regular bus service. Her two favourite songs in the whole world are Colourblind by Counting Crows, and Bittersweet symphony by The Verve. Though she is also quite happy to listen repeatedly to The Killers album Hot Fuss for hours on end. In her writing Hatty endeavours to be either poetic, or at least grammatically correct. Unfortunately, upon most occasions this does not seem to be the case. She has a strong tendency towards introspection, and can get slightly hung up on the numptyness of men. Hatty has an extremely ad
Hard Truths 1970-01-01 00:59:59 I haven't had any dramas for a while. So I guess I might as well start reeling them off. There has been a role reversal. Matt told me he loved me. My reaction was simple: completely ignore it and act like he hadn't said anything. Whoops. I didn't mean to, logically it was completely nonsensical. It was like; if I didn't acknowledge it then maybe it would go away. I just blanked it out, didn't even think about it. It was only when I was walking down to my lecture with Alex and I suddenly realized what he'd actually said to me. Then I had to stop and curse. What kind of reaction is that? What the fuck is wrong with me? Of course I love him. I know I love him. Well, I think I love him. Sort of. Yeah, okay, I don't. But I will. Once I get over being petrified of the idea. I don't understand what's wrong with me. The numpty was utterly confused about why I wasn't ecstatic that someone had told me they loved me (don't even fucking ask about wh
Nine 1970-01-01 00:59:59 There are always going to be questions that you have to ask. Sometimes it is the right thing to do. Generally it isn't. Finding too much out about people is off putting. Knowing someone isn't the same as knowing everything about them. Knowing everything hurts. Knowing everything shows you how much about them you've missed; how little overall effect you've had on them. We are, by nature, jealous creatures. That's how we tolerate monogamy. Without jealousy we'd never be able to manage it. So when you ask the wrong question of someone, you're inviting out the green-eyed monster that resides inside. You're giving into that child inside you who has to pick at the scabs even though they know that it will only end in tears and hurt. And what can we ask from people other than honesty? If someone isn't honest with you then how can there ever be trust? The only paradox is when they are honest with you and their honesty takes away the trust that was there before
Pride 1970-01-01 00:59:59 "Didn't realise how stress prone you are. What's wrong with the new boyfriend if its not too weird telling me?"It took me a while to work out how to answer that one. "There are a thousand little things that make sense, but mostly I don't think I really have a reason that sounds sensible. He loves me and he treats me like a princess. There's something wrong with me""It sounds like you're making a mistake then"I can talk about the alcoholism and the baby-sitting. I can cry about the fact that it feels like he would rather spend time with his friends (who he lives with) than me. I can mention the complete lack of common sense. I could even bring up that he makes me feel like I'm not good enough, like I'm deficient in some way.But the thing about all of that stuff is that I don't care. It makes sense that if those were major issues with me then I could somehow explain my recent behaviour. But I'm not bothered about them; I'm just sitting here usin Read more:Pride
Moments 1970-01-01 00:59:59 My pen falters two paragraphs down the page. What originally was a weak attempt at fiction becomes just another of my memoirs- a set of self indulgent meanderings through my past, directionless, and purely to allow myself more time and paper space to wallow. You can change the subject's name, and put it into third person, but I don't seem to be able to change the protagonist. I can't separate my own personality and background from that of my characters. Maybe I just don't have the imagination to be a writer. I'm searching for a moment. That's what writing is all about; finding a moment, and capturing it. Like a photograph taken. You transform the image into descriptives layered on top of each other eventually taking on a consistency, a feeling, a life of their own. The words stop being words, and change to become a whole. I can't find them anymore. I can't make things sound beautiful like I wish to and I can't write about my life actually as my lif Read more:Moments
On Mothers, Writing, Hitting People, and Falling Apart 1970-01-01 00:59:59 I was introduced to reading at a young age. At around three my dad decided that it was a good idea to teach me as it would help my development. I'm not sure if my IQ is larger than it would have been had he not done that, I don't think it matters, but it was a good decision all the same. Escapism in the form of books was something I appreciated. I read pretty much solidly throughout the first twelve or so years of my life. Before I discovered that I could write the books too. Writing in some form has been my life. I love reading it, I love writing it, and I love words in general. I wrote everything; songs, poems, short stories, novels, newspaper articles, and later a blog. I didn't want to be a writer; it was simply that the idea of not being one was so completely ridiculous that it wasn't even a consideration for me. And then things changed. I discovered how to be me without running away and hiding underneath the security of my words. I learnt how to live and n Read more:Mothers
, Hitting
Figuring me out 1970-01-01 00:59:59 And the crazy thing is that I'd give him the world. I'd wear my hair how he liked it, and talk football to amuse. I'd cut back on my bad habits, and stay in with him at night. I'd learn every god damn slang he spoke and practice understanding his friends. I'd never tell him I had a headache, or pretend I was too tired. I'd cook and clean and wear a ring. But that isn't what he wants. Sometimes he wants the cock hungry whore, but other times that makes me needy. Sometimes he wants the stuck up bitch, and then other times he wants adoration. Sometimes he wants me on my knees; sometimes he wants to get on his. Sometimes he wants a casual fling, while others he wants to fall. Mostly I don't want any of that. I can't stand playing the games anymore because they've gone on for far too long. I hate playing multi-personalities simply to keep him happy. I don't like being his whore, I have to pretend that I don't want more, and one day I'd just li
Delaying the Inevitable 1970-01-01 00:59:59 I'm not the girl men will settle down with. I'm not quite your Marilyn Monroe mistress type either, but only in the sense that I'm not Icon material. I'll forever make a much better mistress than wife.Stephanie Klein introduced us to the concept of a pair and a spare while dating. You date three men in order that you not latch on to any one man who might not be completely right for you, just because he's the only one around at the time. I sometimes find it hard to keep the potentials down to just three.I have the perfect boyfriend. He's loving, attentive, capable of keeping up with me in a sexcapade, and so sweet I get toothache if I'm around him too long. And I'm trying. I try my best to love him because everything tells me that I'm never going to find anyone like him again, and were I to settle down with anyone he'd be the perfect partner. But I'm not ready for love, and even if I were, I can't seem to fall for perfect.So I'm working on the question Read more:Inevitable
Revenge 1970-01-01 00:59:59 When planning your outfit for revenge on a man you think along the lines of "less is more" You think stockings and a suspender belt, you think micro-micro mini. You think either transparent or no underwear (I won't tell you which I chose). You think slut.And, of course, you would be right. Being a successful tease is an art form because it gives you power. It gives you the power to take a man who had forgotten a little what it was that had made you so special in the first place, and turn him right back into the possessive, needy, almost desperate man he was in the beginning. You aren't forgotten about or downtrodden anymore, you can decide what you want from him.People always associate sluttiness with a woman who wants it, needs it desperately. Not true. Not always anyway. It's just a means to an end. And a fun one too. The only drawback to the deal is the real life aspect of it. In real life you end up with a guy far too drunk to shag you (properly anyway) and a Read more:Revenge
Breaking Point 1970-01-01 00:59:59 How to lose a guy in four words; "I'm sorry, it's over"He'd noticed I wasn't in a good mood over the past few days. He wasn't sure why I was upset, but it was pretty obvious that I was. I suppose it was in the tone of my voice, the way I sat silent while everyone around me laughed and joked, and the way I'd lie in bed with my back to him, silent- not exactly a common occurrence with me.It's been difficult all week. He'd be drunk and hard to deal with. I'd be quick to anger and difficult to placate. A relationship cannot run on alcohol alone, and ours was showing the strain. Every time I saw him it would be strange. We didn't act like a couple. We'd talk to each other via other people, constantly aware of each other, but never quite communicating. We'd arrive in clubs together, but only really with a perfunctory holding of hands through the door, and then off on our own doing our own things. We avoided talking, touching, and acknowledgement like th Read more:Breaking
Surviving the Storm 1970-01-01 00:59:59 For the purposes of clarity and chronological order, I would advise reading Part 1: Breaking Point first.I was talking about it all with the numpty today. Thing is, Matt isn't like him, Matt's less crazy, and a sort of healthier type of boyfriend in general. And, as much as I used to hate him for it, the numpty is more than willing to tell me when I'm being an idiot over a guy who's actually pretty good for me. That is, of course, while completely ceasing to stop pestering me about screwing me. But he's still male I guess.So, the amateur dramatics Matt and I had on Wednesday were slightly terrifying. Matt and I bicker. Yes, occasionally we'll have a short lived fight over something, but it's never exactly major. On Wednesday it was on an entirely different scale to everything we'd had before (except maybe the time I slapped him but that was just different in general). See this time; I really was on the verge of finishing things. I know that occasionally I toy w Read more:Storm
, Surviving
Scraps 1970-01-01 00:59:59 A woman turned to a man. He was not her partner, and she was not his to keep, but there was some history there, and there was some pain. She didn't want the evening to end; he wanted to get away as quickly as possible before he broke the promise he'd made to himself earlier in the evening to only be a gentleman.He was stood by the door, looking out into the night. She was stood by the window, facing his back, willing herself not to say it. "Do you want to come back to mine?"He kept his back to her so she couldn't see his face. He didn't say anything; she took it as a "no" Maybe it was for the best. She lay in bed a few days later, his arms wrapped around her, his breath warming her back. And she wished things could always be this way. She wanted to keep the man who could bring her out of the worst mood, and whom she never fought with. She wanted to keep the man who slept so quietly on her pillow, she wanted to keep her love. The night after she came home and
Resolutions 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Not that I'm conforming to any trends, but:Pass most of my exams (if not all but that might be asking a little too much).Make a music video.Pull someone 27. For some reason I seem to be good at pulling 26 year olds, but never anyone older. It's a little odd.Kiss a girl.Fly an aeroplane.Make friends with a penguin.Decide what to do with Matt.Eat more unhealthy food. I'm losing weight again.Make an actual effort not to pull anyone when I'm already in a relationship.Stop drinking vodka. Especially trebles. Read more:Resolutions
Sinning 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Things are not going so good. It has been one and a half weeks since I last sinned and Christ I'm starting to miss it. I still have another three weeks before I get to see him again. And I… misbehaved. Slightly. I didn't mean to, and it wasn't anything outrageous. I just temporarily forgot myself and then remembered myself and it wasn't intentional or malicious or anything heartbreaking, I was just a dumbass for a few moments. It's all brought about the cheating question. Or questions. It's more of a drawn out questionnaire with some people. Would I? Could I? Is it wrong? Is it ever not wrong? Are you devil's spawn, scum of the earth, if you do? Etc. And my answers? I definitely could. I've been brought up in a household that doesn't have any qualms about what is probably best called open relationships. I don't want to draw out a history, but if you've basically been told all your life, "don't worry, it's a good thing," and y
Being Scrooge 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Things that irritate the fuck out of me this Christmas: Heathrow Airport.Fog.Public transport. Especially trains. And National Express buses.Hair straighteners. Being in a different country from my boyfriend.Vodka.Not having any money.Banks.Pay as you go sim cards.Not being able to spend new years with the only person I'm allowed to kiss on it.Being forgotten.Men. All of them.Headaches.Flu.England.Sheep. I don't know why.Stupid happy Christmas music. I don't want to know about the only person you want this Christmas. Reindeer.Red noses, Santa hats, Santa suits, reindeer antlers, Christmas tree earrings, and other assorted Christmas themed accessories.Credit, debit, and any other bank cards.Alcohol. Lack of alcohol.Not being allowed to open Christmas presents.Christmas cards.Phones.Attractive men. Go away. I'm not allowed to talk to you.Garfield.Arguments.My family.Headaches. I know I already said them, but they're doubly irr Read more:Scrooge
Red Wine 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Christmas is Merlot. It's a thick, slippery red colour. It's syrupy. It tastes nice, but it's altogether too thick. It isn't palatable. It's awkward. For all the years, finally when we see her she doesn't feel like our mother. She's a stranger with my nose, hair and more Chinese eyes. The resemblance is there, but the recognition is not. It doesn't feel right. When she gives us a hug it feels wrong. It isn't comforting, and it isn't comfortable. Honestly, I'd rather just forget the whole thing and go back to Edinburgh. Escape. And the madness is there, as always, lying just beneath the surface. Sometimes she's lucid and almost makes sense, but then other times she just doesn't understand what the hell is going on. She doesn't know us. She's seen us for two weeks in the last ten years, there's too much space, and too little incentive to try to bridge the gap. And I'm being a numpty. I'm home and if a time capsule had been pu Read more:Red Wine
Difficult 1970-01-01 00:59:59 I watched him in the reflection of the window. He was stood outside, looking in, watching me. I didn't dare turn around until he gave up and walked away.Eventually I went out and stood by the door, leaning against the wood and wrapping my arms around myself against the cold. "You know, smoking is a very antisocial habit"He grinned, "Actually smokers are very sociable people""What? When you're all freezing out in the cold for the sake of a tab?""Yep"I watched him for a while longer, shrugged, then went back inside. It was always the one thing that we really had disagreements about.It was a good night. I don't know anyone else who I argue with so constantly, but get on with so well. I also don't think I've ever had a night in which two people have spent so much effort on not kissing each other. We talked. He's so much taller; I had to look up every time he spoke to me. He'd look down and reply, we'd argue a bit, but our eyes would be locked. An
The worst hangover in a long time 1970-01-01 00:59:59 It was dark, it was late, and I'd just exited the taxi and fallen across the street into the club. I wasn't quite drunk, but a few tequila slammers at the bar soon sorted that minor irritation. On occasion I've been told that there's nothing sexy about drunk women, thus far the evidence seems to be rather in the opposite, but I intend to test the theory as often as possible. I'm assuming it's meant in reference to too drunk women. I'll agree, there's nothing sexy about that. For two days I'd been feeling… amorous, and having not had the opportunity to alleviate this, I looked upon Matt's arrival with a certain amount of glee. I was dressed for it, up for it, and to put it bluntly, gagging for it. I should have realised that I was not only tempting fate, but openly challenging it to fuck me about. It had only been a few hours previously (in a rather unusually philosophical and melancholy mood) I had stated to Kelly that planning things was an utter wast Read more:hangover
Falling Down 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Everything's been going screwy lately. With Matt it's just seemed to be either fighting and squabbling over nothing, or complete euphoria that we're still together after we've had a huge fight. Both are so emotionally draining, and there doesn't seem to be a middle ground. I've got about enough money to live on spaghetti hoops for the rest of the term, but not enough to go out, or well, pay my rent. I'm already so overdrawn I'm frightened that they're going to come and take all my cards away and maybe claim my laptop and CD player as repayment. And in regards to my course. Well, you would think it would be fine as it's not that complex and most of it I've done before. But then, this is me we're talking about, and at the moment nothing is fine. When my dad found out my results from the December exams he just about had a heart attack. For some reason, I expected this term to go better. And, typically, it would be fine had I turned up for a few more lectu Read more:Falling Down
All about my tooth 1970-01-01 00:59:59 This morning I woke up with a chipped tooth and "Dirty Bitch" henna tattooed across my chest. I'm guessing last night was good. I can't remember much of it, but the fact that I was still very much drunk at ten am and that I have vague recollections of being wrapped in a duvet on the kitchen floor for a while tells me that whether it was good or bad, it was alcohol ridden.Thus far I have managed to avoid conflict, and have not had a fight with the sweetheart I call a boyfriend, except for a small one this morning. I woke up with a definite ringing in my ears, but due to complete lack of active brain cells, could not work out exactly what it was. The need for water was overpowering so I ignored the ringing, flopped out of bed, and crawled my way into the bathroom where I filled a pint glass with water and sat in the shower for ten minutes trying to make the noise go away. Unfortunately, the ringing was really quite persistent, so I retrieved my phone from my shoe and tried to
Becoming Me 1970-01-01 00:59:59 It's a place of both light and darkness. I never wanted to be there while I was. I hated the way everyone seemed to have views on me and my life, expectations. I hated constantly being compared. I was the less attractive sister, the more academic one, but the one who would probably settle for less financially. Out of my brother, sister and me, I was the boring one, and I hated it. I guess people saw me as the one with the weakest personality. I was told once that out of the three of us I would be the one to smoke first, to drink first, to conform to what I thought people wanted of me. I despised him for saying it.I never smoked. I couldn't after he said that about me, it stayed with me for so long. I suppose in a way he did me a favour. But somehow it still hurts that he thought that in the first place. I love going back there, seeing the old places, reliving the memories. But I hate going back there for the same reasons. Things are never as bad as you expect them to Read more:Becoming
Mind Blowingly Amazing 1970-01-01 00:59:59 I phoned him from the taxi at two thirty am. "Hey baby" He was awake. "Hey, you still up?" "Yeah, I'm just listening to some tunes" He sounded hyper. "Great, you're gonna have to let me into the flat then, I'll be over in five minutes" I jumped out the taxi with brief "goodbyes" and ran as fast as my snakeskin four inch heels would allow. Its effing cold when all you're wearing is a mini and a piece of chiffon that river island rather loosely called a top. Clambering up the concrete stairs to the apartment I cursed all things shoe shaped, and a lot of fashion and advertising companies too. If it hadn't been for stick thin models, rather more curvaceous glamour models, playboy and Barbie then women wouldn't be forced to go out in outfits that cover nothing and are somehow much less comfortable than those that cover everything, simply to attempt to compete. Technically it was Valentines Day (a whole two and a half hours in) and Read more:Amazing
Slummin' it 1970-01-01 00:59:59 He was wearing those hideous blue overalls and carrying a large spanner (it may have been a wrench of some sort; I'm not all that up to date on the correct terminology). His chin was covered in dark stubble and his face, though undeniably sexy, looked dangerous. You could see him on a motorbike, and you could see him as a womaniser and father of more than one illegitimate child.Basically he was the type that would make your father take out a rifle and your mother swoon. Though from both would be the firm agreement that any daughter of theirs would not be seen slumming it with such an unsavoury character.Except that I don't have parents like that, and I don't live at home.He was out of place walking through the university with a slouch that said "I hate you," and a sort of swagger to it that said "Want me" And suddenly I realised, I could have him and adore him for the way he completely walked all over me, and the amazing sex that you'd have to have with that body a
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