What? What do you want from me?

Do you want to be my friend?
I often wonder why.

What is it that your inadequacies make you feel ? As though I should be part of your coterie, that I would somehow brighten up your life? Or that I would make you feel more secure, or more effective as a human being.

Do you want me because you want a friend to lean on, or someone to look up to?
To look at and admire, and then compare, find oneself wanting, or find me wanting.
You did not see that "quality" in me before you got to know me well, did you?
And now you aren't so sure you like it.
But its how I am, take it or leave it.

Or,

Do you want me to be me ... which is to be peculiar, awkward and stand-offish.
I have no friends, just acquaintances.

And some mates, good mates.
I am the best friend I could ever have, but I would not choose me for a friend.

Normal

So I'm okay, I'm normal.
The Mirena coil I had inserted worked.
It stopped all that unexpected gushery which caused me to be unable to leave the house without the equivalent of a bedsheet stuffed down my knickers.
In fact, quite the reverse.
Things have become lighter than ever they were before.
Which is rather useful.

And (one supposes) its also working in the contraceptive department . . .

So thats me discharged from the gynae service for a bit.
Till the next time.

And the scan today, well they can't see no polycystic ovaries (despite the last scan saying there was a 3cm one on my left ovary) ... must be the hormone gunk released by the Mirena, maybe it righted that and the cyst shrunk away in abject fear of the onslaught of hormones.

Maybe a bit of fibroidy thingy, but thats nothing major, else they would have done a song and dance and not discharged me back to the care of the GP.

So thats all normal then.

I'm quite normal really.
Just in a weird "bohemian" sort of way.

(Bohemian?)

NOT the frickin menopause

I made this little rant today, and I liked it so much, I think I will leave it here to remind me when I finally DO get menopause, just how irate I was... purely for note-comparing purposes, of course :)


A small diatriabe about being an elderly chick of 40-summat :

And its REALLY a nuisance when people try to blame my human inconsistencies on the frickin' menopause.

1. Just cos I throw a strop - its NOT the menopause.
Its because I am as pissed off as I ever was, but I was formerly too sweet, polite and self-effacing to TELL you so. When I punch you now, it means that I would have punched you back then when I was 30, only I was worried about breaking my fist and not being able to type and make a decent living as a secretary, and support all you lazy bastards, okay?

c. When I go for a smear, and am "dry down there" it is NOT the menopause.
If the nurse is an incompetent old hag who prods me severally with a speculum, and then fails to achieve her job its not the menopause, LUV ... its because I am fucked off that it is only 9am - at which time I am normally asleep, snuggled up beside someone who DOES actually make me properly lubricated simply by their sheer presence, whereas you, you horrible little wizened old dragon ... you have a nasty cramped little office, probably the entire surgery can hear you telling me to take my knickers off, thanks but I don't want half a dozen African men knowing I have removed my knickers, I did DRESS conservatively so as NOT to attract their attention to me already ...
- AND my knees are squashed against the wall
- AND I am fed up of you lecturing me just because the PCT says you have to
- AND I don't even particularly like you, let alone having to have you peering at my minge and trying to make jocularisms about how I "missed a bit"whilst shaving.

... and thank you, but I am not interested in admitting to you when the last time I had a shag was, but it was with someone I actually wanted to be prodding me with much gentler fingers than yours, I can reassure you, there was certainly no problem like that then, madam ... could it be that pissing me off every time I walk in here, not listening to me, and then proceeding to winch me open, whilst muttering inanely about inconsequential shit like taking up salsa lessons or line fucking dancing, whilst gouging around in my normally much more responsive undercarriage is what has made me a bit anxious, and hence my muscles keep forcing your stupid fucking speculum OUT again.

* Plus, you old witch, missing a period does NOT mean the menopause.
It means that I am variously worried about (a) my very painful shoulder which your boss will not give me the proper treatment for; (b) my dad having cancer 12000 miles away; compounded by (c) the fact that I actually MIGHT be pregnant having been completely careless round about Valentines Day (which I feel is entirely appropriate) ... rather than kerbing my lust until a more conceptionally convenient time of the month.

3. I am not turning down the heating and opening the windows because I am having hot flushes.
I am doing so because I like fresh air that does not smell of sweaty armpits/groins/trainers/beer/whiskey/fags and/or farts, thank you very much, boys. Have you not noticed that in the SEVERAL years you have slept with me, that I have not only slept with the window open but that I have also opened the curtains (because you certainly complained loud enough when I did) ... No, thats not the menopause at ALL, my dears, that would be because I come from a country where the air is fresh and clean, and a stuffy London fleapit of a flat in April does not need the heating on the WHOLE time.

So, the menopause:
I'm not fucking there, yet, motherfuckers, and when I am you will wish you hadn't razzed me about it for all that time, cos payback is a bitch ... with a capital B.

Thank you.
Peace, man.

I found these on Face Bloody Book.
And I liked them.
I already subscribe to some of them, but several of them are really interesting.


* "I love you" not because of who you are, but because of who I am when I am with you.

* No man or woman is worth your tears, and the one who is, won‘t make you cry.

* The worst way to miss someone is to be sitting right beside them knowing you can‘t have them.

* Never frown, even when you are sad, because you never know who is falling in love with your smile.

* The world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world.

* Don‘t waste your time on a man/woman, who isn‘'t willing to waste their time on you.

* Just because someone doesn‘'t love you the way you want them to, doesn‘'t mean they don‘t love you with all they have.

* Don‘t try so hard, the best things come when you least expect them to.

* Maybe the universe wants us to meet a few wrong people before meeting the right one, so that when we finally meet the person, we will know how to be grateful.

*..Don‘t cry because it is over, smile because it happened.

And WHAT a scary photo!
lol, bad bad photo *wags finger at photo for its terribleness*
ah fuckit ... who cares.

Gee whiz, I forgot I had this :)

But posting a comment on Ronnie's Rantings caused me to inadvertently log into a place on the internet I forgot I had ever been.

And how interesting it is to see what I was thinking when I did.
What WAS I thinking?????? LOL

I truly love my job

Last week I came home with only fifty quid.

Today I came home with two hundred and twenty.
Alright, forty of that is tips from my lovely Katrina.

But still ... £180 for not actually shagging anybody at all.
£180 for answering the phone, pouring glasses of wine, and changing a bed.

Feckin' brill!

Oh, and, of course, for putting up with having to read Maggie's bleating messages about not having left the place IMMACULATE (and stinking of cigarette smoke). Get a fucking grip, woman. I leave that gaff as perfect as you. Try finding another receptionist who keeps it tidier than the other ones that are there ... So maybe I don't leave the place nearly as perfect as you want it, but when was the last time YOU dusted the tops of the picture frames, Maggie me old mucker?

I used to get upset by them, now I just read them and go "Oh Fuck off".