My blog

Hmm.. tis early doors and I’ve just sat here and read a couple of entries to this blog from a year ago.  Seems it’s been a while since I actually wrote a blog with anything nearly as much Ummmf to it as some of the ones back then. I wonder what that says about me? Am I holding things in, or has there just not been a set of situations at a time when I have had pc access which merited my sitting down and letting rip for a  while? I’m unsure!

Funny though. This date last year I commented on Glenda dropping an idea on me last fathers day weighing on my mind. She asked me if she was to come to the uk, would I help her set up, aid her with sorting somewhere to stay etc, which would’ve been easy with our common denominator being Jack, and the documentation to prove it. This fathers day, she was silent, but that doesn’t surprise me, as she moves across to NZ in 7 days with the new chap, who’s not exactly new anymore, and doubtless has other things on her mind. Besides that, fathers day over there is a different day to over here. She sent new pic’s of J here, a couple of weeks ago. They’ve not arrived, which is bloody annoying!

Seems Deb and the abortion was still really messing with my head back then too. Not surprising i guess. A shout went out to Sonya who was making an effort, and still does. I never got that game of badminton with her husband! lol… probably just as well, hate to embarrass him! hehe!

I’m using songs alot back then too, as an expression. Today’s entry last year is called Iris. "I just want you to know who I am" et al. Then the day after, I hit Linkin Park’s "Somewhere i belong", and comment on how the Cheshire Cat in Nantwich used to make me feel. The Limelite in Crewe just isn’t the same, and neither is the Gifford in Wolves. Maybe it was because i was younger then, and there was a mentality there which kinda fitted with mine. An acceptance of pretty much anyone, cos they were all really there for the music. These days it doesn’t happen. Rockers smirk at goth’s who bitch about emo’s who get picked on by chav’s on the way home!

I still use songs. The Therapy album, Troublegum, gets lots of hammer. The Wall does too. Picked up a couple of Magnum albums which sit sit in original format in Hamish’s shed, and it was good to hear those again. Heard a few interesting versions of Hurt, including Mr Bowie and NIN, probably the closest they can get to Cash’s voice lol.. and a suspicious version of closer by some guy called… Cheese! lmao hmmm!

Life here is, kinda different to the uk. Priority’s are different. There seems to be no urge to go to the local pub on the weekend, and socialise. Today Esther has invited a lass round for dinner. Now, I’ve lived with several women, and never once have I known them invite anyone over for food who’s not been family. Cept Lisa maybe with Will n Les, but that was usually cos we’d walked back from the Cat and she was getting the grill on for some bacon! And at 4am it doesnt really count! Maybe its just me… and it happens elsewhere, but I dont see it. Mind, my family gave me weird ideas about food anyway! Breakfast before 10 or you dont get it. Dinner at 1pm and woe betide you if you were late, and tea at 5pm, without the Tv on! I’ve always been odd with food at the best of times. With recent events with Su’s lad Ru, it lead me to investigate things further. I already knew that using food as a weapon of punishment caused serious problems when invited to eat with others psychologically. Eating becomes a private thing, incase someone takes it from you. You do it alone, or only with people you trust. Add to that my tongue tie, which makes wet foods extremely difficult to eat without making a mess, (and then the subsequent punishment for making a mess cos parents didn’t acknowledge the existence of a tongue tie at all!), and you wind up with a guy who’s been conditioned to avoid eating with people at all costs. Its conquerable, once it’s known it’s that which is causing  the problem, but that’s kinda difficult with irrational reactions. Add on top of that, my aversion to cooked cheese (I like cheese firm, not crumbly, or runny!), cooked tomatoes, and my reaction to eggs, and what can actually happen is almost like an attack of claustrophobia! Nice! (Jazz club? lol) Now…. transpose that into the possibility of it happening in your own home! Maybe that’s why I’ve never entertained?

So yeah, this is different. The language barrier is no problem between me and E, but it’s bloody infuriating when its not her i’m talking to. An example. I now have a vodaphone (although here its vodafone.. which actually is one that makes sense lol) sim, and me being me i like it to be able to go on the net. However, i dont know how much it costs via GPRS on a payg mobile to do this, so we went to a phone shop to ask. I asked Esther to ask for me, and the guy initially wouldn’t listen that it was a payg phone, until she pointed it out to him on the thing he was reading from, then he proceeded to say it was 75c for 15mins, which made no sense, as 15 mins worth of connection on a gprs connection could last for umpteen days!! Obviously he’d told her the gsm pricing instead, but before I had this info, Esther had thanked him and we’d left! So I still dont know what the rate is for downloads! grr! Not E’s fault, but were i to have been able to understand, the sales guy would’ve been on the receiving end of my annoyance.

I am, however, mobile now. Which makes this whole wrong side of the road thing even more real.. lol.. although, seems here, the cyclist is king! Which i always knew was the right way! Even Dad could’ve ridden here without getting beeped at! I may venture out again today, in-between learning rudimentary dutch words and phraseology. My money situation is annoying, as i’m still owed my last weekends pay from Wolves. Not amused at all about that. Its 11 days on! I cant exactly nip over and shout at them either.

Right, the shower is calling me, (another odd thing, there’s no bath’s,  and there ARE water meters!)  so i should splish splash!

Tot Ziens!
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