Edge of Oblivion

I'm going out to California for three months so I can spend that backend of my summer there. But it was recently pointed out to me that, yes I will have an awesome time, and yes it will be so worth it, for my own personal growth and that of my band, although there doesn't really seem like there will be anything for me to come back to. No job, no money left, a family that doesn't really like me. In other words, I'm completely fucked. I hate having such a bitter frame of mind about the whole situation, but I just can't help myself. Because it's true

Long Distance "Relationships"

I said I wasn't going to write a blog today. Well, I lied... This is very long so please bare with me!
I've had the incredible urge to just write for the past few days. I HAVE put this urge to some good use by adding to my increasing list of lyrical attempts, but for the main part I feel I need to get a few things off my chest. Surely if I I write them down I'll be able to get some sort of visual on the situation and maybe draw my crisis to a conclusion

In various other posts I have written about my "quarter life crisis" (as Kears refers to it) and how my job seems to be the main contributor. This is in fact not a lie, but an embellishment on the truth. This is quite difficult for me to air, so bare with me, I hate talking about this shit, more than I hate feeling it

Picture the scene, three loud London girls, stumbling into a rather large house in this rather posh gated community, Orange County, California (one that you would in visage on a show like Cribs), taking over and just causing general havoc for a few days. First night we were there I got trashed, and I mean blotto. I've never been that drunk, and I haven't been since. I get drunk a lot, but I'm talking off my face to the point where I can't remember what I did for most of the evening. Luckily the guys we were staying with were pretty stand up guys, and they looked after us a treat. I honestly couldn't imagine my life without them now. Probably the greatest guys I know in the whole world. So that's where I met him. The guy who's fucked up in my entire life. Not in a bad way. I'll explain a bit more as we go on

After that first night I have no idea why he came back to the house, he was supposed to go to San Fran for the weekend or something, but he gave it a miss. I vaguely remember talking to him about my art and stuff, but I must have made such an extreme tit out of myself, to the point where if someone was like that with me I would have run a mile. I remember some singing to Skid Row at the top of my lungs, which hurt like fuck the next day so it must have been loud. I remember looking disgusting - we'd just stayed at a hotel in Hollywood for two days, been at a Motley Crue gig the night before and must have got about an hours sleep. My hair was greasy and I was just wearing my Hooters top and some jeans. I'm talking new realms of disgusting. And I also remember some vomiting. Apparantly he spoke to me in the bathroom, and he brought me a glass of water, so he probably saw that part. Good start...
When he walked in at the beginning of the evening I was blown away. Beautiful hair, big brown eyes, slim build. Love it. I didn't think I stood a chance. This stunning OC guy could have had any pick of all the tan, blonde, chirpy girls in California.

I'm not good at making the first move. Ever. It's not so much the feeling of rejection I fear, because everyone knows I pretty much don't give a fuck about whether people like me or not. It's more the fear of the unknown. What if he says yes? Relationships have never been my forte. I hate guys when they get too clingy, but when they aren't showing enough interest I start to wonder if I've done something wrong. I hate jealousy. I hate possessiveness.
All the traits my first boyfriend had. He made me quit drinking, smoking, drugs, self-harm. Any of my vices, you name it, I quit it. For which I am grateful. Seriously. Without that push only God knows where I'd be right now. Probably dead. Or worse. But he was too possessive. All my friends at the time were guys. Simply because girls are bitches. So he thought I was sleeping with every guy I talked to. He wanted to spend every second of every damn day with me, always round my house, which was difficult for me, I never let people in my house unless I completely trust them. Which takes a lot. He'd made me quit every form of outlet I had, and at the time I was going through A LOT of shit. In the end I felt so suffocated and trapped I had to sabotage it. So I set up a situation where I knew he'd accuse me of sleeping with my best friend, thus sparking off an arguement giving me a reason to get rid. And I did it. It took a three hour arguement in the rain to finally get him to leave me alone, but I did it. Call me vindictive, call me what you like. It's true, I was a complete bitch to him. I was sixteen and naive, and I do sometimes feel a little guilt about it, but I just couldn't be this perfect life form that he was seeking.

As for my next bloke. I wanted him because he was a complete fucker to me. But I loved it. I could throw all my shit at him and he would throw it right back. We matched each other in how fucked up we were, which was also good, because at the time no-one else would have put up with either of us. Let's just say in the end, we just fucked each other up even more. He cheated on me with my best friend, and I was back on the drink and self-harm. Along with all the shit I was going through at home and all the bullying at school, he just couldn't be the guy I wanted. The guy I needed to save me. So one day we just stopped talking. We didn't even discuss not talking, it just happened. Soon after he left school, and we never spoke again. Actually I lie, we bumped into each other at a gig in a local pub, and we reminisced for a bit, until his new girlfriend got the hump and dragged him away. All the guys I've stumbled by since have been no better. Although, I have no bad feelings toward any of my ex's. I learnt something from all of them, as I think they did from me.

Back to the point. So I spent the four days in the OC with these guys, just hanging out and other general merriment. Mainly drinking and eating steak. I don't think I left the sofa other than to go to Disney Land (and the bathroom) in the entire four days we were there. Why? That's where HE was. This guy totally captivated me. He'd say things, really unimportant things, but things that I would say to other people. Back home. 5000 miles away. It was uncanny how I'd found a parallel to myself on the other side of the world and I couldn't even find one back home. The only guy I know who will put up with a four day Star Wars marathon, stay up all night talking with me about random shit, and let me slap them in the face without kicking my ass. Plus he had this stare that was just penetrating, like he was staring into my soul. Not to mention his sexy-ass voice. He has impeccable taste in music, which is extremely important to me. I knew he was a keeper.

To say I was gutted at the end of the four days was an understatement. It meant I was going back to Hollywood, and only God knew when I would be seeing him again. Funnily enough, I saw him pretty much every day, and when we got a text a few days before we were due to go home saying that the guys were taking us back to the OC to spend our last night with them I was absolutely stoked. I'd managed to keep a certain amount of restraint for the whole holiday, and I was going to grab my chance while I still had it. And I did. We stayed up all night again - I'm not one to kiss and tell so let's leave it at that.

I went home that afternoon. I can safely say I was heartbroken. I cried as the plane took off. But so did the other girls so I managed to shrug it off. I hardly knew this guy, had known him little over a week, yet I was completely taken by him. We've kept in contact. When my phone bill leapt up to nearly 150 pounds, I finally figured how to use my email on my phone

Here in lies my dilemma. Technically we're not in a relationship. That would be impossible. The distance is killing me as it is, let alone making the damn thing official, and I don't even know if he knows about my feelings, let alone mirrors them. But I know being without him is not where I want to be. I've never felt this way about a guy before. He just understands me, and it's easy. I'm not always having to explain my actions, I don't have to tell him exactly where I am all the time. Sure he doesn't know every little thing about me, he certainly doesn't know about my past yet (I learnt my lesson about telling too much from the previous two guys ^^^), but I know I could probably tell him and he wouldn't judge me for it, or run a mile, like so many previous other guys. I know he's not perfect, far from it, in fact I don't know everything about him either, but I love everything I do know, and I can't wait to learn the rest.

I'm not usually one of the crazy "love me, define me" kind of girls. As Sugar so often says "we're strong like wildebeest". Only the longer I'm without him, the weaker I feel. Hence going back to this "quarter-life crisis" malarkey. I can literally feel myself changing into one of these girls. I want to email him all the time, I want to tell him I love him - I want to tell EVERYONE I love him. It's just not like me at all. And I hate it. I hate being one of those girls that I look at, and I judge because they're lives revolve around their bloke. But now, I get up and the first thing I do is check my email inbox, and if it's empty I feel like calling in sick and staying in bed all day. I check it every chance I get at work, just in case. I'll stay up all night emailing him, because I never know when I'll get the chance to speak to him next. When I get up in the morning he's just going to bed, so I dread the first eight hours of the day when I won't hear from him.
It's absolutely mentalist behaviour. I know it is. I can see myself doing it. And what's worse is I get the distinct impression that he's going to get tired of me. And then where will I be and what will I have left?

Hurdles...

Today, I'm not going to write a blog, only refer you to my best friends instead

sugarmonroe.blogspot.com

I think we can all say we're in agreement with this

Miss you liss xxxx

Dirty Cherry Forever

Sex, Drugs and other cliches

Look what Darren made us. Guy's a genius



I hate my fucking job. That's about the only way of summing it up. I just know that I don't want to work in the Multimedia department of a dusty bookshop for the rest of my fucking life. I honestly can't see a way out. There is nothing I want to do more than get my damn band sorted and get playing some shows. I'm not saying it's the only soltuion to all my problems, but it's a bloody start.

Just where to begin, you know? I probably have a collection of 20-or-so (complete and incomplete) "songs" that I've written, and I just don't know where to go with it. To say I have writer's block right now is a fucking understatement. Writing this? Piece of piss, I could rant my chops off all day, writing songs is a whole other ball-game. Every song I write comes straight from the heart, and I pour every fibre of being into them. There are some I've shared with others - the ones about sex, drugs etc etc. The ones I haven't shared are the ones I'm having the most trouble with. The ones about real events, and experiences. I've shared them with my girls. Well, the bits that I've finished. It's just difficult to get it all down on paper, every letter a reminder of that particular event, stuff that I'd rather forget. That's where the block comes in. Perhaps it's my mind telling me I don't want to remember these things so why write them down? All I know is that I don't want to be like other songwriters, who write songs they know will sell

And to sing it for a living, bearing my soul every night (although i know it will take a Hell of a lot out of me) will just be the icing on the cake

Old Shmold

So it's my 21st birthday in three days. Everyone keeps asking me what I want to do for it. I already thought I WAS doing something, but apparantly just going out on the razz with my closest friends isn't enough. So my mother persists to book a table at some crap Italian restaurant, so I can have dinner with my family. Call me ungrateful, but I can think of better things I could be doing than sitting in some restaurant I dislike, with people i like even less. I know you only get one family and all that cliched jazz, but my friends are the family I chose. If you knew my family you'd understand. I'm not going to single out every member and give a reason as to why I would not be wanting to spend this "special" day with them, because that just isn't my style. The only ones I really like know who they are, and know they are very dear to me. It's all those other schmoes who only speak to me at Christmas and get me really expensive gifts because they feel bad that I'm the adopted one that I can't abide

My way of looking at it, there is one person I actually want to spend my birthday with (other than my wonderful friends of course), and I can't, because they are the other side of the damn world - where I should be

When Two Worlds Collide

On Saturday night, I went out with my colleagues for my birthday, because I won't see them over the weekend. We went to this nice cocktail bar, rather over-crowded, over-priced and over-yuppied if you ask me. Not the sort of establishment you would normally see me in. Everyone was all dressed up - even me, which doesn't happen often but I thought I'd make the effort since everyone else was.

Earlier in the week I'd discussed with some people going to Decadence afterwards, mainly because I really hate St. Albans with the hugest of passions. And also because the people in St. Albans are all cunts. Little did I know, I'd have a whole army of Indie blokes following me into London. To a hair metal club. Smooth move... It was kinda nice though that they actually wanted to spend some time with me, because I tend to keep my three worlds very separate, work, friends, and family. I rarely mix them. Purely because they just don't fit together, it's a recipe for disaster. Even though I'm the same person, my separate worlds are polar extremes

By the end of the night I had two groups of friends sat round a table. One group of rowdy lads shouting football chants at each other, and jeering about how girls can't play musical instruments. The other group, three of my pissed off bandmates - who happen to be fenale and play musical instruments, and some metal blokes, just looking at each other in bewilderment

Although it was a very fun night, there inlies the reason I do not mix business with pleasure

My Mid-Life Crisis

So, I haven't written on my blog for a while. Perhaps because I got a few things off my chest and decided that I didn't really have much to talk about anymore. Perhaps because I'm not good at writing things down, because when I read them back to myself that would make it real. I can't even be sure how my own mind ever works. But now it seems the perfect time to write some more stuff down, figure myself out a bit more.

Today I woke up, and I just felt like something was missing (and it had nothing to do with my freshly cut hair - even though I do miss it). It's definately something more, yet I can't quite put my finger on it. Some days I just get that feeling, and today happened to be one of them. I seem to be stumbling through my life with no immediate sense of direction. In fact I get that feeling most days. Nothing to look forward to, just the same old story, monotony, just doing the same as I did yesterday, get up, work, eat, come home, try to sleep, not succeed, write some stuff, repeat.

When I was younger I always had something to look forward to, or at least I had some vague idea of the direction I was supposed to be headed. Going to High School. Doing my GCSEs. A-Levels, then off to college. I always knew what I wanted to do, and how I was going to get there. Unfortunately things never go as planned. There are things, hurdles even - in my case they are mainly my own vices, always something that seems to prevent me from doing what I want to do with myself. When I was at High School it was bullies, and eventually my illness. In Sixth Form it was drugs and self-harm. When I went to college it was the alcohol, and ultimately the music that prevented me from fulfilling my own dream (be it my back-up dream) of doing illustration and graphic design. That was the year that confirmed I wanted a career in music.

So, this year I have started a fresh new leaf. I have different friends to those that I started last year with, friends who I love, whether they be in this continent or another. I have my band, my four wonderful girls, with whom I am going to the top. I started drinking again, but strictly no drugs this time, unfortunately the two seem to come hand in hand in my world, but I have done well nonetheless. Damn addictive personality...

You could say in all I'm altogether a different person to who I was last year. I look at guys differently, perhaps in a more grown up manner, and not that of an immature lonely girl who wanted as many guys as she could possibly surround herself with. Now I see them less as objects which I loved to collect, more actual people - although I didn't really ever let them see the real me.
I view my friendships differently, I used to be so monogamous to a very small circle of friends, but I've realised that although to have a smaller inner circle of friends is something precious, that you need more than that, even to be more receptive to the idea of letting new people in. Sometimes it's good to let people see the real me. It's not that I ever gave a fuck what people thought about me, it was just that as soon as you let someone close to you, it leaves you vulnerable to disappointment. Something that I have gotten far too familiar with.
And I've also learnt that in friendship, although giving is always good, sometimes you should get something back, and not let people walk the fuck all over you, which apparantly I do without realising it.

Essentially, despite learning these things, I still haven't learnt how to achieve my goals, because obviously they aren't going to achieve themselves, and I'll be damned if things aren't going to get in my way. This year, being the year of my 21st birthday, is going to be the year of me. I just can't wait around for things just to fall into my lap, because that's just not how things are done, and I damn well can't rely on other people to lend a hand. I've been let down too many times this year already, which quite frankly is very stupid of me for letting them take that advantage

I wish I knew where I was going with this point, but unfortunately that's the part that's missing
Where exactly is it that I am going?

Ultimately, that's my goal for the year. To find out what exactly is my purpose in this world. Recently I've started to evaluate every tiny aspect of my life. Probably a very foolish thing to do. Work: Do I REALLY want to work there anymore? Friends: Are they really as "there for me" as I have been led to believe. My band: When the fuck are we going to get our asses in gear and get this gig off the ground? Family: Why the fuck do I put up with the shit they give me? Relationships: What EXACTLY is the point of them? And why does everything seem to be getting in the way of me having the one damn person in the whole world that I am actually interested in?

I've even been looking at myself under the microscope. I've never given a fuck what people think of me, but for some reason I've changed completely from the person I used to be. Only God knows if it's for the better or not