I really do. Especially if it's a cause which I can relate to. I like them even more if they can express their thoughts beautifully and eloquently, in a manner which I would love to, if I only had the insight and talent which they have.
I enjoy reading and listening and adopting points of view which they hold. I think it's because it makes me feel less alone. I feel connected to the person and their cause, and I feel empowered to fight and talk for my own beliefs and the injustices which I hate.
Also because I love to learn.
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Arron was away for a few weeks visiting his Nan, (so I couldn't even be indignant about my abandonment) but now he's back. Yay! Just between you and me I'm quite smitten.
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I'm Hungover today, shouldn't have had that last bottle of wine. That was a Bad Mistake
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Sickly sweet
Tonsillitis is not nice. Trust me. I'm currently suffering from a nasty case of it, I feel like I've got a golf ball in my throat, it is nearly impossible to swallow, and my temperature is fluctuating between freezing cold and boiling hot.
I went to the local walk in center this morning to get antibiotics and phoned in sick for work. Which wouldn't be so bad, because it means I get to sit about all day in my pajamas and catch up on my favourite type of television. Daytime television. However crush from work (I s'pose I should name him, no we're official and all, let's go with Arron as that's his name) had to work all day because of it, so I feel super guilty.
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In other news, on Thursday Arron took me out to this really nice restaurant, it's a steak house with all these sweet booths, so we were able to do a lot of PDAs, all whilst embarrassing only the waiter (and the best thing, was that he initiated most of the PDAs, sigh)
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Finally, I promise to be less mushy in future.
I went to the local walk in center this morning to get antibiotics and phoned in sick for work. Which wouldn't be so bad, because it means I get to sit about all day in my pajamas and catch up on my favourite type of television. Daytime television. However crush from work (I s'pose I should name him, no we're official and all, let's go with Arron as that's his name) had to work all day because of it, so I feel super guilty.
In other news, on Thursday Arron took me out to this really nice restaurant, it's a steak house with all these sweet booths, so we were able to do a lot of PDAs, all whilst embarrassing only the waiter (and the best thing, was that he initiated most of the PDAs, sigh)
Finally, I promise to be less mushy in future.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
The Good, The Bad and The Ugly
The Good
A two hour make out session last night, with crush from work (who is now officially my boyfriend)
The Bad
It only being a make out session due to living with parents, and them not allowing 'sleep overs'
The Ugly
The stubble rash, I'll have to make him shave next time.
A two hour make out session last night, with crush from work (who is now officially my boyfriend)
The Bad
It only being a make out session due to living with parents, and them not allowing 'sleep overs'
The Ugly
The stubble rash, I'll have to make him shave next time.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Bloody Hell
I was at work yesterday, and the potwasher hadn't yet turned up, so I decided to be helpful and get some washing up done. I picked up a plate and managed to hit it off a metal shelf, it broke and landed on my foot. There was a chorus of "didn't you want to wash that one Anna?" from the chefs in the kitchen, I laughed and cleaned up the mess.
Then I noticed something on the floor. Turned out my foot was bleeding, quite spectacularly, and a little pool of blood had appeared by my feet. I had a look at it, and could see the blood bubbling out of my sock. I decided I needed help, and called over one of the chefs.
"Shit" Hang on, I'll get something to try and stop it. I decided that it would probably be best to sit down, and try to stop it bleeding, the blood kept on coming, and started to drip from between my hands. By this point I had an audience and somebody handed me a towel which I promptly bled through. In the end it was when they were considering carrying me out to the car that I decided we should look at it again, and luckily it had stopped, we saw the wound. It was pathetic, a tiny puncture wound, it's hardly bruised today, so no sympathy for me. But I am the only person I know who has stabbed herself with a plate.
Then I noticed something on the floor. Turned out my foot was bleeding, quite spectacularly, and a little pool of blood had appeared by my feet. I had a look at it, and could see the blood bubbling out of my sock. I decided I needed help, and called over one of the chefs.
"Shit" Hang on, I'll get something to try and stop it. I decided that it would probably be best to sit down, and try to stop it bleeding, the blood kept on coming, and started to drip from between my hands. By this point I had an audience and somebody handed me a towel which I promptly bled through. In the end it was when they were considering carrying me out to the car that I decided we should look at it again, and luckily it had stopped, we saw the wound. It was pathetic, a tiny puncture wound, it's hardly bruised today, so no sympathy for me. But I am the only person I know who has stabbed herself with a plate.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Merry Christmas.
Ah, the fun times of working in a pub leading up to Christmas. I have to work all weekend (32 hours in 3 days) and serve people who are rude, patronising, egocentric twats.
It might be "your Christmas day" but that does not mean that I can pull crackers out of my arse, perhaps next time you should ring up beforehand to let us know your requirements or bring your own.
Yes, I know more than three of you ordered the turkey, but I haven't mastered balancing plates on my head just yet so you'll have to wait for me to go back to get the rest.
No, I cannot take a drinks order right now, unfortunately those people over there want their food; which I happen to be carrying; before it goes cold.
Soup? Who ordered the soup? Who the fuck is David?
We're closed, yes that does mean I can't get you any drinks. Not even a small one.
I'm so sorry you had to wait 10 minutes for your coffee. I did only have to make 20 all at them same time. I'm surprised they haven't sacked me.
Merry fucking Christmas to you too.
It might be "your Christmas day" but that does not mean that I can pull crackers out of my arse, perhaps next time you should ring up beforehand to let us know your requirements or bring your own.
Yes, I know more than three of you ordered the turkey, but I haven't mastered balancing plates on my head just yet so you'll have to wait for me to go back to get the rest.
No, I cannot take a drinks order right now, unfortunately those people over there want their food; which I happen to be carrying; before it goes cold.
Soup? Who ordered the soup? Who the fuck is David?
We're closed, yes that does mean I can't get you any drinks. Not even a small one.
I'm so sorry you had to wait 10 minutes for your coffee. I did only have to make 20 all at them same time. I'm surprised they haven't sacked me.
Merry fucking Christmas to you too.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
No thanks.
I never did go for that drink with Biker, it was all set up and arranged, we were going for a drink after work at a pub. Then he text me and said he thought it would be best if I just went around his. I'm sure it would be. For him. I personally have never been a fan of going over to a strangers house with no one else there. I prefer not to be murdered. So thanks, but no thanks. Dammit, I deserve a drink at least. How cheap does he think I am?
Besides it's not really about him, it's totally about this other boy. If only I could figure out how he felt about me, I might be brave enough to do something about it.
Could you imagine how horrible things would be if we always told others how we felt? Life would be intolerably bearable.
Randy K. Milholland
Besides it's not really about him, it's totally about this other boy. If only I could figure out how he felt about me, I might be brave enough to do something about it.
Could you imagine how horrible things would be if we always told others how we felt? Life would be intolerably bearable.
Randy K. Milholland
Thursday, November 15, 2007
A date or not a date, that is the question.
Here is a text conversation between me and a guy I used to work with (hereafter known as Biker)
Biker: Hiya, it's Biker here, I don't suppose you have the number of a girl we both worked with do you?
Me: I'm really sorry, but I dont have her number, and she's stopped working here too! I'll ask around for you, and see if I can get it for you.
Biker: Oh, I didn't realise she'd left, LOL. You at work tonight? Do you want to go for a drink sometime or something, when you're free to get to know each other better?
To get to know each other better, What the hell is that? I honestly would not think I was being asked out except for that last sentence!! Especially as he has a girlfriend as well. What do you think? Date or no date? Should I go? (I already know I'm going actually, he has a motorbike, and a hot Nothern accent.)
Biker: Hiya, it's Biker here, I don't suppose you have the number of a girl we both worked with do you?
Me: I'm really sorry, but I dont have her number, and she's stopped working here too! I'll ask around for you, and see if I can get it for you.
Biker: Oh, I didn't realise she'd left, LOL. You at work tonight? Do you want to go for a drink sometime or something, when you're free to get to know each other better?
To get to know each other better, What the hell is that? I honestly would not think I was being asked out except for that last sentence!! Especially as he has a girlfriend as well. What do you think? Date or no date? Should I go? (I already know I'm going actually, he has a motorbike, and a hot Nothern accent.)
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