Rantings

Just testing mail2blog, ok?
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Had an awful dream. I've been feeling a bit wiped with this chesty cough thing and after getting up at 6am to take himself to work (no metro till 10am today), I promptly came home and went to bed. Just woke up now (!!) and this dream I had was indeed disturbing.

I dreamed I lived in an upstairs flat, and that there were strange statanic rituals being carried out downstairs. My cousin's daughter had started living with us and decorating my bedroom in bright yellow with black writing on the walls, and there were vampires nesting in the wall cavity. You could tell which walls they were in because the wallpaper had gone all wet and rubbery and was peeling. The vampires hatched out of eggs (look, it was MY dream, ok?) and then continued to lie on the ground as naked white corpses till grown to maturity, then would just get up and started coming after you with no warning.

I had a feeling it was all connected to the satanic rites downstairs and decided to run away. A little way down the road I bumped into the county sheriff (a sure sign I've been watching too many movies - I'm in England - no sheriffs!) who wanted to go fishing with me, despite the fact I had vampires hot on my tail.

Glad I woke up but I'm feeling a bit shaken and still got that dreamy feeling about me. I think something to eat and drink will help, and some solid housework to keep me grounded.

I haven't been employed by anybody in about 13 years, some of the time due to illness, and some of the time because I was self-employed working with my hubby.

After I was widowed in 2009, I was left with no livelihood, the banks froze the business bank accounts and wouldn't even release enough to pay for the funeral (thank goodness for parents, they're the best!) until probate was granted, and I was 40 when Ian died, so I was too young to qualify for widows benefit, so I had to sell the shop to pay off the debts I had inherited. I was in a bit of a financial state, to say the least.

However, after investing some of the money that I was eventually left with and using some to do stuff to the house that was looong overdue, I have been living off the remainder whilst searching for work. It's taken a long time but I finally got as far as an interview this morning, and by this afternoon I had a job!!

Not bad for someone who's a bit rusty and hasn't had an interview since 1988, what?

Of Course, I Could Be Wrong...: MAD DAD'S JOKE OF THE DAY: "A father passing by his son's bedroom, was astonished to see the bed was nicely made, and that everything was picked up and tidy. Then, he s..."

From News Biscuit:

While most people are enjoying the current warm weather, climatologists said yesterday that a long hot summer could spell doom for one of Britain’s most unusual monochrome inhabitants, the Goth.

‘Goths are shy, retiring creatures that thrive best in gloomy autumnal weather,’ said Dr James Barnett of the University of Warwick. ‘Drought conditions aren’t an issue since they rarely wash, but they are poorly equipped to deal with high temperatures as they can’t take off their black jeans and duffel coats. Many also suffer with restricted vision as the heat causes their sweaty, greasy hair to form a lank immovable curtain they can’t see beyond.’

Britain’s Goth population, identifiable by its distinctive eye markings, peaked at around 90,000 in the 1970s, but since then has been driven out of urban habitats by more aggressive, faster-breeding species like Chavs. While some Goths are expected to hibernate until the weather gives everyone less to be cheerful about, there are fears that some could spontaneously combust in the summer sun leaving behind only a pair of smoking 18-hole Dr Martens.

Conservationists have now established a sanctuary in Whitby Abbey and are seeking to lure distressed Goths there by means of artificial darkness, playing Southern Death Cult records around the clock and a Tim Burton retrospective at the local Odeon.

But some believe the project is doomed to failure. ‘This is how evolution works, sadly,’ said Dr Richard Dawkins. ‘A species that cannot adapt to change and shows more interest in self-harming than in breeding is bound to die out. I keep telling people but no one seems to get it. Why doesn’t anyone understand me?’ he screamed, tearfully storming upstairs to play Bauhaus records and write poetry in his room.

I want them all! Seriously. I love these coloured contact lenses you can get, and I am now offering them in my online shop! Woo hoo! There are loads of other things to list in my shop, but I wanted to get these lenses on quick because I think they're cool and might just prove to be good sellers. :-)

I might just have to treat myself to some 3 tone aqua ones. They're lovely.



You can buy them here.

Life’s been a bit crazy since meeting my new other half.  Life has changed dramatically for me, and seems to be following a completely different type of path to my old.  I now have much more of a social life, I have some new friends (as well as my old ones), and I can honestly say that I’m much more laid back than I have ever been.  Without making it sound like I am dissing my old life (because I’m not), this is definitely a good thing.  I am moving on, that’s all.

I have been very lax in keeping up with reading my friends’ blogs, and will try to make more of an effort in future, but I have to admit after rediscovering Facebook I have become rather addicted, so I may need the odd nudge from time to time!  LOL

No guesses as to which one is the new love of my life …

This is incredibly hard to say, but it needs to be said, so I'm saying it.

I've met someone. Someone really nice. Someone who makes me feel special, who makes me feel like a woman again, and not like a sad, lonely old widow. Someone who makes me feel alive.  And yet, I have been having huge difficulty coming to terms with that.

It's been 8 months since my husband, Ian, died. And it has been a hard, lonely, gruelling 8 months at that. But still only 8 months. You have no idea how much guilt and shame I have had to work through to get to the point where I can actually talk about it because 8 months is such a short time.

When Ian passed away I didn't think I would ever meet anyone else, I didn't think I wanted to meet someone else, and I certainly didn't dream that it would happen so soon. But it has, and that's just the way it is. And to be honest, I think I owe a lot of that to my psychotherapist who helped me to deal with my grief in a more structured and philosophical way, and to accept that that was a chapter of my life which has now ended and I need to let the new chapter begin (he did not, however, recommend that I go looking for someone within a year, mind you).

I'll be honest, it's not quite as simple as that. This isn't about forgetting my past. Ian's family will always be my family too, I love them all so I'm not going to forget them, obviously, and I don't want to miss out on watching Ewan grow up. And I have not stopped loving Ian - I never will - but that doesn't mean that I can't love someone else. Love is boundless. I truly believe that my happiness would be paramount to Ian.

But there is something in me which has changed over the passed few months, a strength which at times shows itself in ways which surprise even me. Ian's sister and mother will know exactly what I mean when I say this - that you cannot sit and watch your loved one slowy die in front of you over a period of 7 weeks, at the end of which you have had to make the agonising decision to withdraw life support treatment, say your goodbyes, hold their hand and watch them pass away right in front of you, without being deeply and profoundly changed by it.

That change is not always a good thing. I have become very short tempered and less tolerant of people who place far too much importance on mundane material issues, who don't appreciate their loved ones the way they should, and who aren't willing to support one another through sheer selfishness. These people have absolutely no idea of the treasure that they have within their grasp, a precious thing that could be so easily lost.

But at times, that change is a good thing. I have become more decisive, more sure of what I want, and more willing to take control of my own life. And you know what? That feels so good, knowing that I have the power to shape what lies ahead of me. And I have made the decision that I don't want to be a grieving widow any more, and that I have every right to be happy just like anyone else.

Anyone who feels the need to judge me can keep their opinions to themselves, because quite frankly I'm not interested. Unless you have actually been in my position, then you cannot possibly know what the past 8 months have felt like, and are therefore not qualified to do so.

There. I've said it. And it actually feels quite good!

Posted via email from MrsFirestarter's posterous

No updates for quite a while, which I guess means I'm dealing with things and moving on. One day I will bring you all up to date, but for now, here's today's smile.

"A group of Goths in the Bath area were said to be ‘mildly excited’ in anticipation of their Halloween ordinary dress party where they all planned to kit themselves out in outrageously conventional costumes, celebrate until gone half past eleven on a Saturday night and ‘really get their hair sensibly combed’.

‘We had one last year and it was just a blast,’ said Ravyn Voltaire, a 31-year-old tattoo artist, ‘without all the black and white make-up and piercings it was impossible to recognise anyone, and it led to all sorts of daring conversations about getting a better rate on a mortgage, or what happened on last night’s Coronation Street without a single mention of visiting Bram Stoker’s grave to recite necromantic spells.’

Party host Morpheus LeStat has reportedly spent the last fortnight foregoing trips to S&M club nights and dungeons to stay home and put together party CDs, confident he can really get his friends in the mood for the party with songs by Kylie and Westlife that they all secretly liked at uni, even though they could never see themselves in that whole pop scene.

‘I’ve also got wacky prizes like Jennifer Aniston romantic comedy box-sets for the dullest costumes,’ said LeStat who will be foregoing his usual Victorian aristocratic Vampire garb to greet guests in the casual slacks and V-neck sweater combo of a moderately successful architect. ‘I just hope everybody make the effort, and we don’t have a repeat of last year when everybody turned up in their usual leather and bondage get-up and claimed to have come as Tory MPs at home on the weekend.’"

http://www.newsbiscuit.com/2009/10/28/goths-looking-forward-to-fantastic-halloween-night-at-ordinary-dress-party/

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I think today is the first day since Ian first went into hospital (7th
Feb) that I haven't cried. Is this a good thing? I don't know, but I
feel just a little bit better today. Instead of feeling as though I
have to spend the rest of my life with a huge sense of loss, and
feeling that there is no future to speak of for me, I now feel as
though there all sorts of possibilities open to me that weren't there
before. I can do things now that I couldn't when Ian was alive. Am I
being selfish? Probably. But the point is, now I can be, and it's
harming no one.

 This evening my favourite band is playing in Utrecht. Maybe one day I
will get the chance to see them live. They never come to the UK which
is such a shame - they've even been to Russia! So, it's something to
plan for.

 Here's hoping the fans there are enjoying them as much as I am right
now listening to this:

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I guess this is only a FAIL if the designer didn't intend for the bag to look like what it does:


see more Fail Blog

... but the following are definitely meant to look like this:

The Velvet V

and I love them! If I had the cash I would place an order, most definitely!

... so I'm posting this for my own amusement.
 

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... was nice. Went out both Saturday and Sunday with my big sis.
Saturday, we zoomed up to Cramlington to pick up my new contact lenses
and put my broken specs in for fixing (I used to work in Cram and used
the optometrist below my office - I liked them so much I continue to
use them). Then we went off to Newcastle for the Gay Pride Parade.
Unfortunately, we got held up and missed the actual parade, so we went
straight up to Leazes Park for the rest of the event. There were lots
of very colourful people there, and I found a jewellery stall which
sold decorative tongue bars. I bought three bonny ones for £2
(bargain!) which will make a nice change from my plain old surgical
steel one! The music, I have to say, was truly diabolical, but if you
like tribute bands that do nothing but the Pussy Cat Dolls or Kylie,
then you'd have loved it!
 
Sunday we took my poor neglected pooch to Jesmond Dean for a good old
mooch around and while we were there stopped for coffee and cake. I
can recommend the summer fruit pudding - it was superb! We must have
been out about three hours and my wee lad slept for the rest of the
afternoon.
 
Of course, as soon as I got home I was a wreck again. Empty house,
loneliness, the feeling of guilt and helplessness because all I could
do was watch Ian suffer. Why do we torture ourselves like this? We
know that thinking about these things are deeply distressing so why do
our minds keep dwelling on painful thoughts, and why do we seem to
have no control over it? I think I'm probably at my lowest point now.
 It's a real effort of will to get up in the morning and start work.
I have to give myself a pep talk just to get me through washing the
dishes or hoovering the floor!
 
I think I had a bout 3 or 4 hours sleep last night. I'm off to bed now
to recharge my batteries.

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It's a double whammy today, because I couldn't decide which song to
post, so I just went for both. This is currently my favourite band
(till I get sick of them).
 
This is Bavarian band *Eisbrecher* with *Vergissmeinnicht (Forget Me
Not)* followed by *Schwarze Witwe (Black Widow)*.
 

 

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Been having a bad couple of weeks.
 
A friend told me, soon after Ian died, that things would get worse
before they got better. Well they certainly are. The shock is
finally wearing off and I'm slowly realising that this is for good.
Forever. That Ian isn't ever coming home. It's heartbreaking. Work
is becoming more and more difficult each day. I'm spending more time
in bed sobbing and less time working. Then I get stressed because I'm
not getting through the work quick enough and start to feel completely
overwhelmed.
 
Today hasn't been so bad, though. Got through all the work and even
found time to sit down and eat a proper, healthy meal. I'm going to
go for a drive soon, simply to get out of the house. Don't know
where, just see where the car takes me.
 
Still feeling lonely.

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