I Took A Gamble

And I won.

I went on another random adventure. It was Burns' night, and I was all set for staying in, when a ridiculously attractive and incredibly cool guy added me on MSN. Had fun talking, eventually decided that I'd go to his house for drinks. We both lack possession of a sense of danger, and operate in a world where it is always a great idea to sleep at strangers' houses and invite random people home. Fire is fun to play with, and we're indestructible.

Turns out that he has a girlfriend and is trying very, very hard to be good. It also turns out that I am an excellent agent of moral decay.
However, as moral failures and bad people, we cannot be held responsible for our actions.

We played baccarat and I think I'm moving up in the world. I may be a harlot but fate was my guide. Moth, meet flame. It's all good fun, made even better by the terrible evilness of it all. Yes, I'm going to hell, and it's going to be a great party. Life is strange and oh so random these days. I keep trying to understand but it's futile. Just go with it, and don't think too much.

Woke up early and out into distant memories of mornings. Had breakfast in a cafe and read newspapers. Odd, the things I find novel. The gaps in my life experience, which are slowly filling up. Still feel like I'm playing catch-up sometimes.

But I digress. I still won.

In fact, I can scarcely comprehend the levels of winning which I have reached.

Sheffield

Now that I've had some food and sleep, I can write all about my adventures. It all began on Friday night, at about 5pm. I awoke from my 3 hours of sleep and checked Facebook, to find an invite to a demonstration in Sheffield. After not a lot of thought, I decided to go. So I packed my bag and set off, kept awake only by energy pills. Ioan met me at the train station and we went back to his house, via the vodka shop. We sat down and began to drink. Kayleigh arrived, in an incredibly drunken state, and then details become somewhat more fuzzy. Kayleigh went home to sleep, and a couple of Ioan's housemates came round.

I do realise that I am at best an obnoxious drunk. At worst, a violent liability. After half a bottle of vodka I managed to get hold of a kitchen knife, causing much panic and consternation, and also for some reason I ran away in just my socks, crying and laughing maniacally, and scaring the wandering students. Luckily I was found and bought home. It was all so rock'n'roll, drunken escapades, and waking up the next morning in another strange bed. I should really stop doing that. I admire the bravery of the guy. Or his clarity in seeing through my psychopath act. Or possibly his opportunism in seeing that I was really wasted. Anyway it was all good fun.

Waking up was a nice surprise in that I did not have a fatal hangover. Which is lucky really, because today was the actual mission. Me, Ioan and Kayleigh walked, with only Ioan having any idea where we were going, for many many miles to the green where the demonstration was starting. It was a nice walk. I would loveto do some photography in Sheffield actually, some of the old industrial buildings would make brilliant image. The march was from Ellesmere green to the middle of the city. I'd never been on a real protest before, and I will definitely be getting involved in more. We got placards and a police presence, closing roads and stopping traffic as Socialists, Anarchists, Muslims, trade unionists, pacifists, regular folk all marched together, chanting and waving banners. Marching done, speeches began over an almost non-existent PA system.

The situation in Gaza is horrific and criminal. 1.5 million people are crammed into a tiny area of land, under occupation, blockaded in by a massively superior military force. Human rights for these people are practically non-existent, they live in constant fear as Israel seems free to break international law as it likes. They bombed a school with white phosphorous, for fucks sake. Then they tried to deny it. When the UN exposed them, they then claimed that militants were firing on them from the position. Even if this was true (and I don't say it isn't possible), this presents a chilling insight into Israel's campaign. Children are regarded as acceptable collateral damage. This can never be justified.

After the speaking, I got the train back to Derby, utterly strung out with exhaustion. I staggered around Derby, wondering why my stomach hurt and then realising that I had not eaten anything for the past sixteen hours. Greggs to the rescue, nice warm food to revive me long enough to buy some drawing paper and get the bus home. What an awesome adventure I had. The past 24 hours had absolutely everything. I hereby pledge to have many more adventures like this.

And, dear reader, look up the situation in Gaza. Look up the situations around the world. Don't just ignore injustice. Take action!

Targeted Advertising Works!

Finally GoogleAds Adsense has shown something useful. Indeed, this is a downright awesome, yet slightly dubious product: The Pocket Shot!

This is possibly the first company to realise the huge untapped market of closet alcoholics out there.

And new blog adverts make a nice change from the ones for rehab and alcoholism treatment. Well, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Pocket shots all round!

Crisis Dilemma and Doubt

Actually, in the physical world, there is no crisis. Everything is fine, don't worry.

In my mind, there are a million conflicting thoughts, ideas, and ambitions. This year has already been recognised as a time of 'sink or swim'. If I don't get my ass in gear by 2010, then chances are I will end up stuck in this town forever. I do like Belper, we've had some great times here, but I do not want it to be my only experience of life. I need to spread my wings, broaden my horizons, see the world, explore, experience new people and places.

However, it would be far too easy to get trapped here, turn into an ignorant local type, for whom Derby is the capital of the world and Nottingham is another country. How would this happen? Well, the persuasive action of unlimited drugs and a familiar environment. I've only just settled in to the town, got to know the dealers, local faces, etc. And seeing as most people left are those who didn't go to uni, this has narrowed my choice of companions down to workers and stoners. So I spend my days with wreckheads, with the workers joining in at eveings and weekends. I have basically unlimited and everlasting free time. (For a few more weeks at least).

The problem is that getting wrecked gets me nowhere but poorer and lazier. When it is your permanent state, then it stops being fun or interesting. However, if you stop being wrecked, then everything becomes much, much worse. Sensible and productive activity becomes very difficult, because you are always either too wrecked, hungover, coming down, or asleep.

This has somewhat spoiled my ambitions of doing really well in my course and then getting into uni. Assignments 2 and 3 are basically write-offs, as I did no work for two months. I do not regret this, as these were the two months before drugs and alcohol became dull and everyday occurences. However, I will probably regret it a lot later, when I get a really awful final grade. I still judge my worth by my grades; this has been drummed into my brain almost since birth, and sadly I have not been able to completely shake the habit.

Now my friend wants me to get a flat with her. However, she is a much greater wreckhead than I, and I predict that, in the very unlikely event of us actually being able to afford this, then it will quickly degenerate into a lovely drug den. This will be fun, but it will be expensive, and I will be even less able to work than I am now. However, I will gain some inependence (I really can't still be living at home when I'm twenty), and maybe this will actually give me the strength to organise other aspects of my life. Home is possibly too comfortable, and lets me forget that I will have to fend for myself.

However, I need to gain more willpower if this can succeed. I went out with Madma today, thinking that I would try and spend no money and smoke not even a cigarette. Instead, I spent £16 on pretty much fuck all of lasting value, and all of this due to me giving in to persuasion way too easily. I would have been able to quit smoking if it hadn't been for today. I think I will try again to quit. And I will quit buying in weed on random weekdays. It's too expensive, and I need to be saving as much money as possible for the future.

How do I get willpower? I'm just too nice to resist anyone asking me for stuff. I need strength, to realise that real friends will not resent me for not giving them free money.

I really don't know what to do with my life right now. I know that the basic answer is to carry on, finish my course, get my credits, then go to uni or get a job, but it is never that simple. There are so many details and principles to sort out as well. Too many decisions to make, and I have no idea what to do. I think I'll end up sitting at home, crying and hoping that it all goes away...

New Year's Eve

Well, I am finally conscious enough to blog about it. I can't really remember the details, and everything else is slightly hit and miss with the accuracy, but hey, this has to be recorded. So, at 4 or 5pm I went to Maddy's house, where we got all tarted up. She has a corset! Jealous, me? Anyway, our first stop was a visit to certain dodgy individuals to obtain our supplies. I got the stars, wife got the green, and after a double-drop and a spliff, we were off.

Wearing my pointy stilettos, while she changed to flat shoes, we walked up Mill Lane. This was a slightly painful test of endurance, but the destination was deifinitely worth it: Tom's house. This is where things start to get very hazy. There were crates of beer, bottles and bottles of vodka, sambuca, Martini and Sours. There were mostly boys there; actually me and Mad were the only girls. And put a bunch of wreckhead guys in a room with that much alcohol, then things will always get stupid. Thankfully I avoided the 'vodka-sambuca-Martini-apple sours shots challenge, but the mixture of said drinks plus cherry sours in a jug could not be ignored. Neither could the cans that kept getting passed to me. There was a guy there who everybody had been telling me for weeks that he fancied me. I didn't believe them until we ended up making out. By this time I was well up on the pills, and then I washed down another with apple sours.

Then we walked back down Mill Lane (luckily by this time I was too fucked to feel pain) and everyone went to the pub, while I went to Jess & Alex's awesome party. I really don't remember much, but I think I got off with all my wives and probably was way too high to do anything remotely normal. There were glowsticks and champagne, and we possibly planned out our future careers in porn. After we were finally chucked out, I remember nothing until me, Anna and Kayl, along with everyone from earlier, ended up at a random party in the house across the drive from Muz's sister's place. There were lots of drugs, and lots of people from all over Belper, and also many that I have never seen before. John Lennon and evil black Spiderman were quite unexpected guests. I remember pills, and spliffs, and a dab of pure MDMA. I then remember slapping Ozzy, and then complimenting him on his glowing UV lip piercings, which confused him slightly. I also lost my scarf, which I am disproportionately upset about, and getting my bag utterly soaked with beer and covered in mud, which strangely doesn't bother me at all. Eventually, me, Kayleigh, Joe, Barney, wife, and a variety of other people ended up crashed on a sofa in a back room, surrounded by those more hardcore/drugged up/conscious than us.

Eventually, at about 9.30am, me and Kayl got a lift home from my mum, went up to my room and crashed out. For the next 12 hours, my pupils were unaturally huge. Try sitting at the dinner table in that state, trying to look inconspicuous and sober. Well, nobody has mentioned anything yet...

All in all, a good New Years Eve. For the first time in my entire life, I managed to celebrate the occasion properly. Hard core, dudes.

Parties And Pre-Party Parties

Wake up warm and naked in a strange bed, heart pounding from last night's pills. Ask the age old question: 'Where the fuck are my clothes?'
Realise that most of last night has been forgotten. The remaining memories are fuzzy images of laughing, cool people, smoke and drink and pills. Oh, and toast. We had toast.

The day before, wake up cold on a sofa, in the same house. Next to me is a guy, fast asleep, kneeling on the floor, his face resting on the sofa. We wonder how he sleeps like that.

The preceding night, walk for miles, picking up, sorting out, rounding up the select few for the pre-party. Bottle of whisky, coke, and cans of Stella. Lots of weed. Great people to just chill with, and to cover with star and smiley-face stickers. A beautiful night.

In Sheffield

It's bloody great. Kayl has cool friends and everything has been fun. At about 6pm me, her and her friend drank our bottles of DXM, and the rest of the night has been epic fun. Room dancing, 24 hour shop visits, blue alcopops, gay dudes, kebab and chips, and now back in Kayl's room chilling and drinking. DXM rocks. And my friends rock. I'm happy.

Fear and Loathing in... Belper?

It started on a Friday. Parents went away for the weekend. We drank a few beers, chilled at home with Grace. Brother, Teddy, and Alice made varying appearances. Bearing in mind that my memory has since deteriorated, I couldn't tell you the exact sequence of events that led to me eventually drinking a bottle of Benylin Dry Cough mixture. I know that I had a cough. And I know that I knew that dextromethorpan gets you high, and diphenhydramine makes you trip out and go to sleep. I wanted sleep. I think.
I was getting sleepy, and couldn't see properly, I was so stoned on this stuff. I staggered to bed, and slept for 13 hours.
Saturday was party day, and having woken up at 3pm, I was in a bit of a hurry to get things ready. I went to Belper on a mission for weed and vodka. The vodka part was easy enough, but weed involved finding Ozzy, and then accompanying him on a long trek, involving many breaks to 'wrap one up, yo.' It was such exhausting work...

At this time I was already pretty out of it. Dextromethorpan (DXM) is a euphoric dissociative hallucinogenic, and diphenhydramine is a deliriant hallucinogenic and also boosts the effects of alcohol. I wasn't actually hallucinating, I hadn't taken nearly enough for a proper, reality-breaking trip, but I was definitely high.
My body and brain seemed to be disconnected. I was walking, very fast, into town, but felt no pain or tiredness. I looked down at my feet, seeing them walking, and knowing that it was nothing to do with me. I tried to tell them to stop walking, but it didn't work. I was being carried somewhere. This was slightly worrying, but also intriguing. I managed to gain back my autonomy enough to go and buy some cigarettes. Then, I was in a supermarket, eyes aching horribly in the bright lights. My pupils couldn't shrink, they stayed huge, so I wandered around with a wide-eyed 'deer in headlights' expression, trying to focus enough to understand the world. I managed to buy a bottle of vodka, and then went to meet people. We smoked some, walked, smoked some more, and somehow ended up in a house, with the guy who we were buying off, smoking joint after joint, and generally passing time. I realised I had the shakes again, real bad, it was so difficult to even take a spliff when it was passed to me. Then I realised that I was supposed to be having a party. Grace was at home on her own, and she would be pissed off...
However, the warm and cozy house, with endless supplies of weed, random conversation, and a little dog, was too nice to leave. It was pouring with rain, too. However, at some point, we walked, via many other places, up Mill Street, and ended up home. There was, indeed, a party. And a very pissed off Grace. I was 2 hours late for my own party. And, ironically, Ozzy had disappeared somewhere with my weed. Anyway, my room was hotboxed, and everyone was happy. And I got some people stoned through passive smoking, who would never dare to active smoke. So generally, I won. At about 7am I fell asleep. Apparently I twitch a lot.

The parents just came home. My room smells of insence. I have some vodka left. I finally ate some real food. And now I'm so chilled, it's awesome. I just want to give everyone a hug. So, dear reader(s), imagine that you are being hugged by a short, twitchy, vodka-scented girl. Nice, isn't it?

Isn't this fun?

I have the house to myself and mulled wine (because its freezing) and brownies and nice things and Fable 2. Half my brain is missing and luckily its mostly the bad parts. Unfortunately some intelligence went with it, but I'm sure they'll come crawling back soon enough. I'm actually somewhat calm, which is the rarest and coolest of things. :)

Everything Is Broken

My phone is broken. Or rather, I stupidly broke my phone. Lost everything on it, so now I have to hunt down everyone I know and get their number again. At least my internet is working again. The BT dude came round today, and went to the box up the road. He just had to fix one wire, and now the webs are back in action.
News... this blog is meant to have news... Ah, the weekend was fun, went out with my love, had plenty to drink, and generally was happy. The Vaults in Derby is our new favourite bar, it is an awesomely chilled underground place with well priced and delicious drinks. Happy times.
And weird times, in a field, surrounded by mists under the full moon, smoking white widow and laughing and paranoid to fuck as people walked up out of the mist. Surreal yet beautiful. That stuff fucks with your brain something serious.

Oh God Oh God Dread

Well... I think this is the last night of my epic 7 week drinking binge. For the whole time I think I've not even had 24 straight alcohol-free hours. Now my liver hurts, which is never a good thing. I think the codeine washed down with tequila was the final straw.

I never believed anyone who said that drinking was bad. Now my liver hurts, sometimes my stomach and kidneys too. I actually want to take a break from this. Dry out for a week or two, clean myself up a bit. This is a radical step for me. The original plan was to be drunk for a week. Then two weeks, and then the plan changed to 'I'll stop drinking when I run out of money, and/or my liver fails and I go yellow and/or I vomit blood and die. But I guess I'm just not hardcore enough.

Is it a bad sign when a week of no alcohol sounds like hell? I'm dreading it. Tomorrow, I'm going to wake up feeling like shit and there will be nothing I can do about it. I've not even banned weed, but nobody has any tonight, so it's basically only cigs and martyrdom from here on in. Survival is questionable.

I think I've fucked up again.

Hello there?

Ah, welcome back to my sad, forgotten little blog. No updates for the whole year! So, what has happened in all this time? A lot. And, this being the blog it is, most of it was bad. Grandad died at the start of the year. We were there, when he took his last breath. We've seen him deteriorate, over the year, paralysed, mute and helpless. He didn't deserve that, nobody deserves that, but especially not him. He was the most brilliant man. It was standing room only at the church for the funeral, so many people paying tribute.
Soon afterwards, I went numb. Drank, smoked, cut. Got manic got wasted got hysterical. Suicidal. A week in psych hospital. A strange place, that leeches your sanity away, an institute of paranoia and frustration. I met some lovely people there though. Especially Donna. I wonder what they are doing now. A couple of them, I have seen in the outside world, and I smile because they're free, they made it. The rest, I assume are still there. I came out of hospital wild and angry. I don't like being locked up. And the food there was baaaad.
There have been many good times as well. Awesome nights out, at the Nag's or at Jess and Alex's house (they have a house! We're all getting old!). Friends. Me and Kayl's picnic in the field. Indeed, I think my friends are the good news.
And more good news. I'm signed up for an Open University home learn course. If I work hard, then I could get an honours degree. I have to do this! I'm going to be clever again! I won't be an uneducated dropout!
Wow this is one stupidly long post. But never mind. I'm not done yet. I have half a year to fill in here, and I know I don't have much of a life, but it still takes a lot of space.
In the annoying hypochondriac's health news, I found out that I'm allergic to food. My Dad spent a lot of money on a test, where you send them some blood, and they find out which foods upset your immune system. I got the most annoying list of foods to avoid. Yeast: no bread, no beer. Egg whites: no fried, boiled, scrambled, poached, omletted, or other eggs. No cakes, biscuits, etc. Basically, any food that is good has egg white in it. They are the magic ingredient. So I'm not too strict on following the no-egg rule. I just don't eat actual eggs any more. If I can't see the egg in the food, then it's fine. So cake is fine :) Then there is random stuff, like tuna, kidney beans, and cola nuts. No more Diet Coke! Except with my Malibu. If I'm drunk, then I can't be allergic to anything. See? Alcohol solves all problems.
Except for psychosis. And memory loss. Every time I drink, my alcohol tolerance decreases. I become more of a lightweight every time. I know, this shouldn't be physically possible, but physics was never my strong point. I got so horrible that my mum phoned my therapist. I don't know why she thinks being drunk is a mental health problem. Actually, everything I do that my parents don't like, they see it as an issue for the psychiatrists. Mum actually wrote a list for them. I think I'll put it up in my next post. I think this one is long enough already.

Yeah... Fail.

Fail is my new favourite word.

And I think it pretty much sums up my recent life. I'm just being an absolute, total, failure. Drinking at 11am. Cutting. Drinking at 1pm. Getting stoned. Going out getting trashed. Sleeping in my make-up. Waking up with glazed eyes and empty mind.

Boyfriend has now gone AWOL. Hasn't replied to texts for 2 days. I know he wouldn't deliberately blank me. Last I saw him he was heading to work about two hours late. Maybe his boss killed him. God, I'm the most paranoid crazy bitch on the planet. He probably just ran out of credit. Always think of the obvious reasons first, please.

School is ok though. Which is strange. I'm a bit behind through being a lazy 'ho, but never mind. I'm not failing yet, I usually turn up to lessons, and I'm not universally hated. So really, good going.

And now for the bestest thing. I got my lip pierced on Saturday! A ring on the right side of my bottom lip. My lip is still a bit swollen. I think that it was the most painful piercing that I've had so far, in that I nearly actually tensed while it was being done. No, the actual stabbing isn't what hurts. The annoying bit is later, when you have to wait for your skin to heal and accept that a piece of metal now lives in it.

My cosin Ali came round on Saturday. Actually, Friday, but I was out with Dave then so I didn't see him. So Saturday night we went down pub so Ali could see the rubbishness that is Belper on a Saturday night. Well it was all OK. Managed to get quite drunk. Ali pulled a girl called Sarah. Then that twat Joe Mills burned Ali's hand with a fag. For jokes. Yeah... that's really funny.

So Ali was pissed off, and we went home, to where my brother's movie night gathering had turned into 2 very ill kids puking up vodka. And 3 kids happy. Well, Ali decided that it was time to begin the party, so got out a couple of beers, and then proceeded to attack and molest everybody. In a comic and friendly way. Alice, my brother's girl, is really funny when she's drunk. She kept punching people by accident. Then my brother's other mate came back and passed out. Of course, we then drew on his face. But no, Ali had to go further than this, and started to feel up the dead guy's crotch. 'OMG, feel this, he's got a semi-on!' He didn't wake up. Then, Ali put a condom on the guy's cock. And he still didn't wake up. And then, Ali put pubes on his mouth. And we left the poor guy sleeping in happy innocence. The next morning was quite funny.

Trash-Head

I just realised that pretty much every post on this page involves me getting drunk or stoned or both. Oh dear.

Jess' Results Day Party

Wow that was fun. Dave met all my friends, everyone got really drunk, I smoked way too many cigarettes, and I invented a new, lethal, cocktail. Absinthe, vodka, and Ribena. Vampsinthe. And yes, it gets you drunk. Especially if it is drunk after huge amounts of alcopops.

Jess always has great parties. Love you Jess!

Me and Dave got home really late. My Mummy doesn't like me much any more. Just because I was really late twice in one week.

I'm going to have my 18th birthday party at the Fleet. Got to get planning!

Camping in the Forest

Wow. Last night was ultra funny. Me, my brother, Fabian, Eddy, Shane and Jesus went camping in the woods. We met in town, and at first everything seemed like total shit. No one would buy us alcohol, and a certain little **** ripped us off (taking forty quid of my bro's money) so we had no weed. Luckily, once we got on the bus, everything got better. A little off licence in the village near where we were camping served me and Fabian, so we got a crate of beer, 3 bottles of wine, and a bottle of cider. I already had a bottle of Lambrini, and Fabian had something a lot funnier - poppers!
We walked for miles up a huge hill to get to the camping area. It was worth it though. It is in the most beautiful place, with flat ground and a massive fire pit area. We got out the amazing pop-up tent. I tell you, it is the best invention. You take it out of the bag, undo some elastic, and BOING! You have a tent, and you just have to peg it down. Fabian and Eddy made a great fire for us. We all helped, but they have the skills. In fact, everyone has great skills. Shane started whittling a wooden stake as soon as we got there. She wanted to be safe against vampires. Marshmallows were toasted, quorn sausages were grilled, and I made some Alphabetti Spaghetti, because I rock.
Then the drinking began. The guys hate Lambrini, so the girls - Shane, Jesus and Moi - had the bottle to ourselves. I think I had the most, Shane close behind, and Jesus didn't drink much. Everyone else had Carling too, but I can't be arsed with beer. It has too big a volume, I can only drink one can and then I'm full up, but not drunk. Eddy didn't drink, because there was nothing he liked. Apparently he's a whisky man. For a while he looked sad and lonely, but soon we were all happy. Jesus was not really affected by alcohol, she says she's immune to it, but she didn't drink a ridiculous amount. I feel sorry for anyone who is immune to the magical powers of booze. We also had poppers. I'd never had it before, so I was very curious. You just sniff, and then your head goes schwoosch and your eyes go funny, and you feel warm and everything is hilarious for a minute. It's legal too.
We played spin the bottle, I think we all got off with each other except for me and my bro, because that would be sick and wrong and gross. It got quite mad. Me and Shane drank beer off Fabian, I got off with Eddy way too much, and I *think* that I licked Fabian. Only a little lick, mind, nothing bad. My memory gets a little disjointed. I spent some time puking up, lying in brambles, and lying on the ground because Brother floored me, the little tit. Actually, he's taller than me now. It is a traumatic turning point when your younger sibling finally becomes taller than you.
Oh, my God, one thing I remember: I cut Fabian! We all had knives, and were daring each other to cut the other person. I, being 1. Drunk and 2. A bit kinky, had no problem with it. But the others were a bit freaked out. And I really don't know how many times I got called an emo because of the cutting and my scars. Eddy said I was fit though, and I think Fabian did too, which made me feel awesome. See, I'm easily pleased.
Eventually five of us all ended up in a three person tent, freezing our asses off. Jesus went home as she didn't feel good or happy. Me and Fabian could not sleep. Shane and my brother slept a lot, and Eddy tired to be hard and do without a sleeping bag. It was one of those nights where you are never sure if you are going to wake or sleep the next moment. Fabian felt me shivering so hugged up to me to keep warm (I'll pretend I didn't enjoy it).
In the middle of the night there was a gunshot bang. Maybe, I suggested, it could be someone with a gun. Coming to shoot us. I like reassuring people. And a lot of our conversations had turned to the Blair Witch. Eventually Fabian threatened to knife us if we carried on being scary.