Saturday 27 November 2010

Miniture Me.


Wow, sometimes the world seems so enormous doesn't it?


I sit here in my room and send messages to some of my best friends all over the world. The distance between us is sometimes unbearable.

I think it would be nice for one day, or maybe two, to grab the world and push it and squish it until I could open my door and be within walking distance to all those people who make MY world turn.


I'd collect Biki from Australia, along with Lu

Barbie from London.

Steve from wherever he is now. Blackpool?

My muma from Barcelona

Tess from Brighton

And all my friends from Wales.


It worries me how scattered we've become and how, despite our best intentions we aren't staying in touch every week. And we aren't visiting every month. And we don't know everything about each other anymore.


Sometimes we forget about the whole world and just get caught up in out own weeny bubble. We get caught up in work and love and jealousy and self image. We forget about the other 6Billion and wonder why our own lives are just so damn complicated.


And ya know what. That's okay, I'm more than guilty of that. Just today I sat in the Bath and listened to the world, my world around me. It was silent. All I could hear was the water reverberating around me and my housemate in her room watching a film and giggling, no doubt happily snuggled up to her boyfriend.


And I thought, 'you know what. On the whole my world is pretty alright at the moment, no need to worry' .


I started thinking about the other world. The big one. And I wondered how my life would be if I was someone else, somewhere else. And I just felt so tiny. So teeny tiny, infact, all I thought would come out of my mouth when I tried to talk would be a squeak. Like a little mouse or a bug roaming around in its own little minutae.


So this year I've pleadged £120 to Amnesty International. a human rights charity dedicated to trying to sort out the big world and all the little worlds within it that aren't so good.


I don't know if I did it through some sort of western guilt but it felt good. I felt better knowing that although next time I went shopping I couldnt buy that beautiful vintage dress, someone somewhere might be having a good day because of me and all the other people who support charities like Amnesty International.


And then that dress, beautiful as it is, just becomes a wash rag. Because it just doesn't compare anymore.


I've always been a sucker for charities and tramps and people who need help.


I remember in year 2 a baby bird fell out of its nest and onto the school field and it was so young. so-so tiny it didnt even look properly formed. It had no feathers. And although the teachers told me to leave it alone I had to go and look at it. I mashed up some worms with a twig and tried to feed it back to health.


I couldn't, I wasn't it's mummy. And I was so sad when the lunch bell went, knowing that it would die out there on it's own.

Me and my friend Meg held it a funeral beneath the huge oak tree. It sounds so ridiculous now but we were both so devastated. I think it was the first time we got a look in on how life rolls, and it was scary.


I don't know where this is going. I just think we need to take the time out of our own little worlds sometimes - to get a better perspective on the big one.

Because that big world connects all the little worlds together and all those little worlds can smush up worms and nurse each other back to health.


Enough for now.


Jojo

xxx


I wrote this blog listening to: Regina Spektor



Tuesday 9 November 2010

Pussy Patrol turned killing spree.


Oh dear. Today something truly, truly terrible happened. It pains me to recall the events. But I will.

I went to Tesco.

I bought food and tampons (FOR MY PERIOD. GIRL BLOOD ERRRR...)

I was driving home...

A bird appeared infront of my van

and then...

I hit the bird.

I looked behind me and it was ...

STILL

ALIVE.

But then some other guy killed it so its fine.


Catrina laughed loads, it was kinda weird. Sado-masochism right there.


Anyway it wasn't really that bad because I think it was some skanky seagul that is obviously really beyond thick because everyone knows birds don't belong on the road.

And I'm pretty sure it's a common known fact in the bird community because there wasn't any other birds there.

Maybe it was suicide. Maybe I helped him escape an abusing father and a loveless mother.


Yeh, that's what happened.


Oh wait! Owen ran! He ran for the first time since December 25th 2009. Thats a long time to not be running. After breaking two legs in a stupid amount of places, a wheelchair, crutches, a LOT of limping and a fair bit of hobbling: Owen Melonbrain ran.


I am so happy and proud for him. It's making me grin thinking about it. This means so much to him and I know it will have really lifted his spirits. (especially after reading the word 'tampons', boys hate that shit)


So yes WELL DONE OWEN, CLEVER BOY. (pat)


Lifes pretty boom-ting at the mo' despite crazy uni work and newspaper work and work experience...work. Yeh I'm doing alright.


Got a lovely boy who can run like a big boy now and he has a beard which is alright, bit ginger. Kinda fancy him still with the beard and he loves me. Wahoo! and I love him. Yaaaay! and we are having a child. Yeeehaaaaa!

Just Kidding.

But seriously. He's the best. Super lucky girl.


I've got THE most amazing pals in the world. I know everyone else says that but seriously, mine are better. Big love to my Slappin' the bass girls and to my sexy housemates who are genuinely, genuinely off their rockers but somehow manage to maintain a degree and avoid being homed.


I am getting quite obese though, that would have to be my main concern at the moment. I think I need to assess the situation properly and really get to the bottom of this massive mystery.


Okay, okay, I've been living off vending machine food, and in England that means Hula Hoops and Minstrels. But I still think it's unfair that I should grow so unfathomably large and squidgy. My brain has been working out SO much. Can I not direct that to other areas of my body?


Clearly not, anyway, now Owen isn't retarded anymore and can now, as Dom so kindly put, run away from me, I think I may need to excercise more than twice a week and stop eating carbs like there's about to be a potato famine.


In other news, I'm really spotty and can't bring myself to start wearing make-up again. It really does push me to apply moisturiser. And most girls tend to do the whole shabang every single day (wtf?! that's 5 minutes of precious snoozing time!).


Last week someone asked me if I'd had a heavy night, I just laughed, confused. They then went on to say how I did look like I was suffering quite a lot and to drink lots of water and to make sure I had a nap later.

Too embarassed to reveal that that was actually just my face, having been completely sober the night before, I played along and held my head in my hands, said I felt sick and left.


I don't really understand why people where make-up ALL the time. It seems so weird that people should cover their faces with creamy stuff clogging all their pores, every single day. Just for the benefit of other people. I mean, is that really necessary? isnt there more important things in life? Like poverty and war and sales at Topshop?


Maybe I am just incoherently lazy and am trying to justify that.


Anyway, I am off to Bedfordshire.


That's all for now :)


Jojo xxx


I wrote this post listening to : Allie Moss.