A Free Period Blog

The ex has sent me an email again.
He asked me not to blog about it, and I'm not going to in the extremes I normally go to. I'm not going to tell you the content, I'm not going to give you print screens, I'm only going to tell you the content in one sentence.
He was honest with me.
And thank GAWD for that.  Not that I was supposed to read it til 2012, but whatever, I was never any good at following demands.
I'd be TERRIBLE as the victim of a hostage attempt.
A note to potential hostage takers - I don't follow instructions, and my parents are broke. I am stubborn and more than a little anarchaic when backed into a corner.  I also have no idea how to use a gun, but will more than happily give it a try with a few choice lines a la River Song.  Expect me to give you HELL.
But yes, the ex.
He thought honesty would make me all mad at him, but I actually feel a lot better now I know what went on.  Because it felt a lot worse than it actually was. 
It's made me a little sad though, because I'd have forgiven all of the stuff that was before we broke up.  The stuff afterwards is immaterial, and during he didn't do anything cataclysmic, so it would have been fine really.
This is another good reason to be very, very blunt and honest with everyone.
Saves a lot of heartache later.
Starting to miss cuddles again.
I bloody like cuddles.
They are warm, and they smell good.
May have to steal Anna again, or find some willing bloke.
There aren't many of them.
A strand of my hair keeps coming unpinned and flopping over my eyes.  Aggravating. 
I'm not really sure what else to type in here. Putting off homework again.
Though to be fair, the library lady might get even more angsty if I tried to do my film homework, seeing as how I'd have to watch a film and my headphones are at home.
But still, everyone loves Flubber!!
Keeping seeing pregnant sort of friend wandering about.
She sat down with me yesterday and asked whether or not it would be awkward if she did.
Well, yes, actually, but you've already taken the chair my feet were on and I can hardly kick you off it, seeing as how I don't own the chair and you're a little bit up the duff and it's all against social norms if I deprive a pregnant lady of a seat.
Blasted social norms.
Blasted morals.
I left soon after.  I had lessons to go to, and she was annoying me without even intending to. 
In my honest opinion, you should not be lectured by your friends on how you're being inappropriate because actually they love you and are trying to protect you, throw it all back in their faces, piss off for something in the range of a MONTH, and expect to be welcomed back.
Ummm, no.
What happened, did your other little devotees get sick of you?
Okay, that may have verged on the bitchy side, but quite frankly I am not in the mood for being used. I got enough of that from my maternal grandmother (imagine me spitting on the floor at this point) for an ENTIRE DAMN LIFETIME and I will NOT be used again.
Unless it is mutual using.
Just put a quick cover up in there for potential fuck buddy statuses to be protected.
THAT'S fine.
Being bought things on an almost constant basis in an attempt to buy love and make my mother feel awful is not how to do it.
Not that it was purely my mother.
A story from a Christmas when I was little may illustrate this better:
When I was about seven or eight, we had Boxing Day at the house of the maternal grandparents (spits on floor).   I think it might have been the year that tsunami hit. I don't really remember.  My granddad, who is a sweetie but is easily manipulated and has sod all backbone, had bought HER (what I will be calling his wife from here on in) a fairly nice necklace, little purple roses on a nice cord.  I had some sense of social etiquette by this point, and understood human emotion well enough.  SHE, however, decided that I was too little to understand such things.  I admired the necklace at one point, because it was pretty.  And it was. At which point she gave it to me. The morning she had got it.  Which made me feel like shit, and Granddad feel like shit, and my dad got a bit grumpy.  Not in an outwardly fashion.  He gets all glowery and a bit scary when he's angry.
But that's a prime example of shit that SHE used to do to make Mum feel bad.  Christ only knows why, my mummy is wonderful. 
Unfortunately, my mum's brother has gone the same way as HER.
When asked to set him up a FB account, I did not expect him to use it to organise his affair.
I consider this my being used. Again.
There may be people with other interpretations on that, I may have become hyper-sensitive to this sort of thing.
He also implied during a phone call to my mother that perhaps we should tie a bell to my little brother, who is mentally disabled (not in a huge way, he has Asperger's syndrome, but it counts) so that people can hear him coming. Think they were discussing something like a concert.
Mother got very, very, VERY pissed off, and slammed the phone down.
She is normally quite the calm, refined sort.
When Christmas came around last year (2010), he sent a present for my brother with a bell tied to it.
ALL the presents got sent back.
I do NOT care what was in them, and I do not want to know.
I, frankly, prefer my brother to presents (don't tell him) and so I will not accept gifts from a sick, insenstive little arsehole who seems to think that this is an acceptable way to behave.
As a sociologist, reader, I know that a lot of social deviance comes from a lack of socialisation.
However, there is only so far, in my opinion, that this principle can be applied.
By the time you have got to the age of 50, you have been around enough of the well-socialised to know that taking the piss out of one's disabled brother is not an acceptable way to behave.
Leading me to believe that actually he is just a cock.
My train of thought has kind of wandered.
I daydreamed a little, there, as the library is a damn good place for daydreams.  Low hum of noise, tapping keys and a little bit of chit chat, but nothing major.
I was thinking back to the bit where we severed contact with HER and also my granddad for a bit.
It was year eight for me, so...  I was thirteen ish, which makes it 2007? Ish?
Anyway.
It had all got a little silly, because Granddad had started coming round our house to escape HER.  Understandable, and the one time he has ever shown any backbone.
The final time he did this it was because SHE had walked out of the house, and he had been driving round to try and find her and couldn't.
So he turned up.
This was not long after (maybe a few days) that my mum had almost burnt the house down. That was a little bit bad, the cats didn't really understand the danger involved in fire.
But she was a bit stressed.
So Dad and she went out anyway to try and find her.
Which they did.
From here I only have their account of the story.  I have been taught that I should only trust corroborated evidence, but I don't really mind.
SHE was back at their house, and so when Dad and Mum turned up, SHE discovered where my granddad was.
Words were exchanged, and I remembered being told that SHE said that SHE had only had one child, and that was her son.
Um, ouch.
Anywho, SHE turned up at ours, where we were under strict instructions to not open the door under any circumstances.
So SHE shouted through the letterbox at my granddad, demanding he come home now.
Which he did, despite the fact that I tried sitting in front of the door (I was always a bit of a mini bad-ass).
He had, however, left his glasses.
So I went round the side of the house, out of the front, and up the road, keeping my eyes on the pavement.  Gave him his glasses through the car window, turned around and left again.
I did NOT, as SHE has since claimed, give her evils.
I stayed neutral.
Not my fault he'll believe anything SHE spins him.
This was the point where my mother had had enough, and decided that all the contact should be severed.
Not complaining.
Sure, fewer presents, but I was content in that fact.
For about a year, we had no contact with them at all.  The only way Mum knew about the evils thing was because at that point we were still talking to HER son. Which we are not now, because as I have said, he is a knob.
Then Granddad texted Mum, saying could he please come round and just talk.
They talked, outside, and things were said to the effect that he absolutely HAD to start seeing us again, because it was killing him or some other shit.
This was the same kind of line used around the time of my mother's wedding, where Granddad would absolutely DIE if she didn't have a nice big wedding.
She didn't, Granddad is still knocking about.
Anyway.
Mum made it my decision whether or not to start seeing him again.
I decided yes, purely because of the death thing.
He does NOT buy us presents.
He keeps offering to though.
At which point I tell him no.
The last time he tried it, I pointed out to him that the more he asked the less he was going to get. He said he had gone temporarily deaf.
I feel like I have lost all respect for him.
He continues to go on foreign holidays,  despite the fact that he has a heart condition (he got a pacemaker last week) and has no insurance because no-one will take him because he's stupid and tries to go places like Egypt just AFTER the civil unrest.
This blog is starting to go a bit morbid.  May have to bake when I get in. Not that I'll get in til quarter to five IF the bus doesn't decide to come early again.
Five minutes before college even finished, and the college day is based around the departing of the four.

Sums it all up, really.
Quite want food.  I'm rather hungry now.
Having an ongoing debate with Sarah about whether or not to shave my legs.
I'm GOING to, but it's a bit fun to persuade her that I am trying to grow my own tights.
It's a temptation to try and lose weight.
I don't particularly need to, I'm at the top end of healthy, but with my weekend going the way it looks like it might, I'm starting to get a bit self-concious.
I have wobbly bits.
I have very few not wobbly bits.
These are my feet, my shoulders, and my scalp.
Everything else wobbles.
In the case of my tits and ass, I don't mind so much.
I'm getting over the fact that my thighs and arms and the like do.
My belly is getting a bit more wobbly than normal though :(
It may be the absence of the exercise I used to have with my ex, that being my only form of exercise, which was usually counteracted immediatly afterwards by either: Post-Coital Pepsi, or Post-Coital Ice Cream.
Both of which are great.
Too great.
Stupid wobbly belly.
May have to get on the Wii Fit again tonight.
The last time I did it, I did a nice half hour workout, where I swore at the coach a lot but felt very good afterwards.
I have learnt from this that such activities are a bit small for my living room, and that my balance is a lot better on my left foot than on my right.
Not that the personal trainer bloke cares.
I think I shall name him Edward.
Not because of any fascination due to Twilight.
I was always far more into the werewolf type.  Cannot do pretty boys. I mess people's hair up.  And I cannot see the point in going for a vampire when you could have a SPACE HEATER for a boyfriend.
I am cold a LOT. I do not need more cold added.
Also quite want a cup of tea.
I have had one today, but I feel like I need more.
And perhaps the pastry that is in my bag.
People who chatter at normal volume in libraries piss me off. There are a couple of them in the corner doing it right now.
Miss my ipod.
Still have half an hour to go.
Debating internally the concept of matching undies.
Does it look like you're trying too hard when they match?
I have two very nice sets, one of which I can't regularly wear because of how it has suspenders and I lost a stocking, but whatever.
I am going to have to do an AWFUL lot of washing.
There's a stack about two feet high in my room now.
Little bit embarassing.
Shall start tonight, after the film homework, and then do it a LOT tomorrow when I get home from college early, as Granddad is not coming. Again.
No complaints here.
HATE PEOPLE WHO TALK IN LIBRARIES.
IT IS A LIBRARY.
STFU.
Girl across from me just declared that she was getting a cold sore.
It amuses me that her mouth has herpes.
She does not look my sort.
And she's too damn loud.
The weather is too warm for October.
I want SNOW already. I want to wear my nice woolly hat with my new and rather sexy hair (not very sexy today, tied back because I couldn't be bothered washing it this morning) and I want my scarves and gloves and stuff.
Mouth herpes girl is leaving.
Thaaaat's better.
I do not understand the appeal of short tshirts and leggings.
I would rather people could not see the outline of my lady garden.
Very strange dream last night.
"Adam" was there, and an ex was there, and there was some kind of issue where if you accidentally stood in the wrong bit of this place, where the walls were both made of trees and of some kind of metallic stuff, then you would get sent somewhere else where there were zombies.
There was also a guitar, and I was definitely in charge.
Very strange.
Not as weird as the dream I had where me, Katie and Hanna all went to Disneyland, and there was a brass band and one of them had a powerpoint and then the most recent ex was there in his history lesson.
Pretty weird though.
Didn't see any zombies. It was more of a knowledge that we were being watched, which may have been put in there by the section of 28 Days Later that we watched in Film.
I swear I am more intelligent than all of those people added together.
Wish I was boasting.
For lunch, I have cool original Doritoes, but the Asda brand, and sour cream and chive dip.
And I think some chocolate.
One of the Ex's mates was nice to me the other day. Which was a bit odd, because we don't even slightly like each other.
Said something about not judging me because he had only heard Ex's side of the story, and so had a biased perspective.
Which was nice.
Weird, but nice.
It felt like people automatically assumed that when we broke up, it was my fault.
Dunno why.
Feel a lot better about it at the moment.
Kind of calm.
My mum has a weird thing where, if I'm sick, she is not allowed to leave me.
Which is nice.
But this is because this one time I got sick, and she had to go out, and by the time she came back I was very much worse.
She can also smell it when I am sick.
I would find this weirder if I could not smell it when Luli gets sick.
Maybe it's like the bit where your periods come at the same time. If you know each other long enough you start to learn when they smell sick.
Think I shall go in a minute.
You'd think they'd have got the builders to do work near the library outside term time.
Clearly not.
I shall go and sit in the study area and eat and contemplate.
Love to you all.
XXXXXXXX