teylaminh: (Random - Garbo)
I am conscious that my last entry was bemoaning our house situation back in May, so I should probably update on that. (It's just as well I wasn't doing regular posting actually because the level of angst would have been through the roof.)

I also need to update about my health - both physical and mental - as although much of the emotional fall-out has been obvious from Twitter, nonetheless I think now is a good time to finally regroup and consider just how much of an impact this whole thing has had. I have been incredibly conscious of my own emotional well-being over the past year and a half as a result of the ongoing chronic health issues, which is probably a good thing because being able to reflect on things afterwards is really helpful in seeing that things have improved.

Anyway. First things first. I need to make a new Google Earth home icon.

House Situation Update )

Yeah, I probably should have updated some of this along the way, but TBH I was not really in the correct mindset to do so and it would not have been quite this objective... Such being said, onward to the health update.

Health Update )

I'm fairly certain I must have missed something out in all of this, but this is quite long enough already.

Now that things are calmer, I need to start prioritising my cinema viewing as there are at least four things on the list, including the new Tim Burton - that one is non-negotiable even if I don't get to any of the others. :P

I'll try not to leave it so long between updates next time. With any luck I can get back into embroidery soon.
teylaminh: (Random - Garbo)
Two posts in one day!

Before I get caught up in another new X-Files recap, here is a life update...

In Which 2015 Did Not Go Down Without A Fight )

I suspect I have missed quite a lot out of that because so much has happened over the past eight weeks or so, but hopefully 2016 will start to improve, now it's got all the Awesome Celebrity deaths out of the way.

We have things to look forward to, in any case: a colleague's 40th birthday party in March, Sunset Boulevard in April, and of course five more brand shiny new episodes of The X-Files - and a like-minded colleague to squee over it with. ;)
teylaminh: (Daffyd - Wide Eyes)
Again, at least it's not about work. I will stop whinging and moaning on LJ soon, I promise. I bloody hate March.

Weight Loss Moan )

Now for something completely different, if not entirely new.

Fandom Moan )

Sigh. I am so sick of being tired and angry all the time. It makes it that much harder to care about anything any more, and I've forgotten what not being tired even feels like.

Whinge, whinge, whinge. Clearly, this is why I don't post anything for ages.
teylaminh: (Buffy - sanity)
I've had a bit of an entry going around my brain all weekend and have not quite gotten around to formulating it into anything concrete. To be honest, though, I don't think I'll bother, as I don't think articulating it in an artistic fashion will really help. I'm having a fandom-related emotional crisis at the moment wherein my supposed writing abilities are in question, and am in a bit of a quandary. I'm hoping some of the reaction can be attributed to PMT - which is what I explained my bad mood away as this weekend - becase I am getting occasional twinges of "wimmins", but it might just as easily be another bloody UTI from all the coffee I have to drink to function as a human being first thing in the morning.

Less coherent version here. )


In other news, my choir is dumb. Our next concert is shaping up to be an epic failure in terms of attendance. It's supposed to celebrate our 90th birthday, so in their infinite wisdom the concert planning group decided (a) to schedule it for 5th November - Bonfire Night - when people will have much better things to be doing involving, y'know, fireworks, and (b) to perform two pieces nobody has heard of. And then they wonder why nobody's buying any tickets. Like the Bach Mass, we are required to attend a certain amount of rehearsals in order to do the concert, and thanks to missing a few this season I'm on the borderline again.

This season is insane, as usual. We have no less than six concerts before January (I'm doing five of them), like Christmas isn't busy enough already. Once again I'm finding the constant pressure to attend and sell tickets to things people don't want to see to be tiring, and once again I'm considering leaving - the changes they keep making "for the better" seem only to make everything more pressured. One of those pre-January concerts is Carmina Burana with the Royal Philharmonic and that's literally the only thing - aside from the Christmas stuff - keeping me there at present, but at this rate I don't think I'm going to have the energy for it, especially as I'm working on 30th December when we're doing said concert. Messiah mid-week is exhausting enough before Christmas.

I'm pretty sure hobbies are not supposed to be this bloody irritating.
teylaminh: (Random - Oblivion wheels)
I Can Haz Funkshunal Ikwipmint? )

In other news, Paul is currently out of work again and also struck down with lurgy (hopefully not the dreaded Pig Plague), I'm absolutely skint to the extent that pay on Friday will not even bring me out of my overdraft - though to be honest I've been too scared to check my account balance this week - and starting to feel like there is no way out of this limbo I presently find myself in. I'm basically trapped in a deep, dark pit, attempting to scrabble to the surface and finding no purchase. If someone could please provide a rope ladder or a lottery win, that would be most helpful.

PS: [livejournal.com profile] 803am - I keep forgetting to mention this, and meant to comment on your X-Factor entry - given that this year's initial auditions are in the style of Britain's Got Talent and in front of a HUGE AUDIENCE, I'm suddenly very glad I won my bet last year. :P

Edit, 13.16: M has just redeemed himself by complimenting both my hair and my lunch (leftover enchiladas) - because I am that shallow.


Jun. 28th, 2009 08:50 pm
teylaminh: (SB - Norma - broken)
Okay, so I've just spent about an HOUR trying to find out ticket availability for Sunset for August, for my mum's birthday, to be thwarted at every turn by broken links. I find about six million articles about the extended run, all of which sound incredibly promising.

And then I find this.

Despite announcing an extended run until September, they've actually closed it in May as initally planned.

I... just... there are no words. None.

God damn you, universe.

Just when I finally get my fandom mojo back after who knows how many months, this happens. It's not fair.

I really wanted my mum to see this production, I wanted to see it again a couple more times, and all that aside, it was a sell-out run. I hope to God nobody tried to book any tickets as soon as the extension was announced; and if so, I hope the theatre / ticket company have had the good grace to give out refunds.

There are days when I wish I'd never discovered Sunset, and this is one of those days. At least if I was ignorant of its existence or its briliance, this wouldn't sting quite so badly. I'm so angry about this. Angry and despondent and just... completely numb. I'm so fed up of my fandoms being crushed like this. According to one random link I spied in my travels this afternoon, it seems the new movie version is planned for next year, and after Phantom... I can't take any more disappointment. I really wish I didn't have this fandom-orientated brain, or care so passionately about relatively unimportant things. I hate especially that I should be made to feel like that by something so trivial.

I'm going to live under a rock. See you in about 30 years.


Mar. 10th, 2009 01:27 pm
teylaminh: (Christine - pity)
Well, that olive branch was obviously too subtle, or I'm slipping off the radar. Though to be honest, after having to sit through inane rambling and/or pathetic whinging for the past few months, I can fully understand why my journal is of absolutely no interest to anyone.

Perhaps if I were less subtle and more outspoken about things which were bothering me, I might get somewhere. But I also might alienate the lot of you.

Can't win either way, can I?

Addendum, 16.47: The thing is, paranoia is like a virus. It starts small and then spreads to the other bits of your brain. So now I'm wondering, after re-reading old e-mails and old comments, if in fact I was just being humoured in my ramblings and there was no real connection there at all. My purpose was initially to offer a service, after all, and friendship was a nice bonus. I never wanted to end up inside one of those banal friendships where the only contact is Christmas cards, and yet...

Gah. Why can't I just let things go for once?
teylaminh: (SB - Max - Oy)
Okay. *sigh* I occasionally fly off the handle, yeah? And when I do, stuff falls out of my brain. I make no apologies for the stuff in question, because when push comes to shove, this is my livejournal and these are my opinions. They're probably 100% wrong, but whatever. If everyone agreed all the time the world would be boring. (Of course, there would probably also be no war, so perhaps that would be a good thing.)

I don't know why I really felt the need to do this entry.

The thing is... I just don't like this feeling that all these things which are supposed to help me seem to be actively opposing me. I don't like being made to feel like I'm inconveniencing someone just because I'm working during the week and it doesn't fit into their stupid timescales.

Yada yada yada. This is real life and I should grow a spine and STFU, I know. Just... yeah. I've said it before and I'll continue to say it until I die without ever feeling any different about it: Real Life Sucks. I'm one of those unfortunate souls who can't deal with it the way you normal people can, the reason being that I had hopes and dreams once upon a time, and am now realising that there's no happily ever after, because life, alas, is not a fairy tale. As much as they are moral narrations on people's actions, they are not a direct reflection of much else.

I think I'll make a 'contentious opinions' filter. Any takers?

*crawls back under rock*
teylaminh: (Buffy - sanity)
I went to get an eye test this afternoon, having realised things were looking blurrier than usual. I was going to hang on until January, but I don't want the same spate of headaches as I had last time, and figured it was best to get it sorted.

Tests are now just under £20. For some reason they also tested my peripheral vision, which has never happened before... apparently it's fine, though.

I'm going back tomorrow afternoon with Paul to pick out frames. Despite the horrible expense, I will probably end up going for designer frames again. I've had these for four years and they've served me well; besides which, anything under £80 just looks old-fashioned or boring, and after wowing people with my current frames, I would be slacking in my duty to the general public to go for bog-standard boring frames this time around. Anyway, it'll probably be another four years before I buy new ones. I had a bit of a look after the test but nothing immediately grabbed my attention, and besides which there were assistants hovering everywhere, which always makes me feel uncomfortable.

Designer frames would set me back £125, plus an additional £60 for thin and anti-reflective lenses. (Otherwise they look like bottle-bottoms.) Meh. Trust designers to jump all over this particular disability just because it's obviously external... why stop at trainers and jewellery when you can have your logo emblazoned on someone's face, after all?

I had a quick look in Evans at the boots - the endless quest for sensible winter shoes continues - but they were all too high or too expensive or just ugly. Besides which, Evans don't really solve my problem; they fit in the leg but are far too wide in the foot. I've moaned about this enough times over the years and should change the record, but yeah, it's just one of many things which is generally irritating me at the moment, which falls under the general umbrella of "The world is geared towards rich, thin, pretty people and I am none of the above", which... yeah. Self-esteem has never been high on my priority list, but at this time of year it's especially depressing. I am somehow horrifically overdrawn again, also, which isn't helping. I have absolutely no idea where my spending money for EuroDisney is coming from, given there's barely anything in the savings account and I'm completely skint.


Bugger off, universe.

Still haven't decided how to pay for new spectacles as yet. Originally I was going to put them on the credit card, but also originally said credit card was only to be used for 'emergencies' and Christmas shopping, which fell flat on its arse. I suppose I should just buy the glasses from my own money and figure it out later. We should be getting some back-dated pay this month* so that might cover at least some of it.

I'm surprisingly not stressing about Christmas yet, but that's because I have a vague plan, the annual leave situation is sorted (I got the only days I wanted: afternoon of Christmas Eve and 2nd January, and then I'm off for the entire following week because of Disney), and I'm doing the majority of my shopping on Wednesday. I'll just be glad when this bloody Beethoven concert on Saturday is out of the way so I can properly focus on the Christmas stuff - we end up having very little rehearsal for it, which is an awful shame...

I brought the heater down from the attic earlier to put in the hall. FED UP of being cold.

This wasn't meant to be so rambling; I intended to do a guess-the-lyrics meme. Ah well. No-one ever plays anyway. :P

*The majority of people in my office also received a random extra £60 a couple of months back, but I did not. Obviously, I do not exist. We'll see what happens on Friday with regards to this apparent back-dated pay, shall we?
teylaminh: (Random - Garbo)
So, here we go - a write-up of London and some other stuff...

London, including show spoilers )

The photos (all 12 of them) are on Facebook but I think they're friends only... They're not that exciting.

On Sunday we popped up to visit Tor and the new baby, which mostly involved horror stories about the birth and trying to calm down the dog, who gets ridiculously excitable around people. Eventually she settled down on the sofa next to me, at least until the doorbell rang. I was supposed to make cakes for work but failed horribly, opting instead to slob about watching my soap and, later in the evening, Fantastic Four, which was brainless and amusing.

And today I am back at work, being regaled with stories of how Sandra has been useless all of last week. Hurrah.

Some annoying things )

There may be some manner of birthday drinking on Saturday but I'll see how I feel on Wednesday. If I'm knackered by then, it's not happening. By all means, though, feel free to celebrate my birthday without me; it's not like I'll be the life of the party.

Things I need to do tonight:

1. Washing up / clean kitchen.
2. Re-pot plant from Lisa (birthday present) so it doesn't die like the last one.
3. Make cakes for work.
4. Have a shower.
teylaminh: (Random - Garbo)
So, I'm not at choir. I've been bloody knackered all day and just want to go to sleep, and the thought of not getting back until 9.00pm just filled me with dread. I got home at 6.00pm and lay down but sleep would not come, as the aforementioned story-narrative-thing ("Three Strikes and Out") was going through my head demanding attention. I want to write it, but I don't know if I want to share it... or, well, I DO want to share it, I just don't think I should, if that makes sense. It will contain a lot of things I really want to articulate, but I think it might upset people.

That is to presume, of course, that anyone would read it in order to be upset by it.

So instead of trying to sleep I got up and did something instead. As a result, [livejournal.com profile] jackiesjottings, your parcel is now ready to go and I'll take it to the Post Office tomorrow. Completely forgot to package it up last night.

I've been starving all day.

I'm feeling a little ambivalent about the whole choir thing, to be honest. As much as I want to do the Christmas concert, I find myself not enjoying the experience as much as I always used to. Instead I dread Tuesdays because they are long, and by the time I get to rehearsal I'm tired and cranky. Choir used to be something I would make time for, and these days I feel more like it's just taking up that time. After two years, I still don't talk to anyone there above greetings and occasional chats, and even though I didn't join with the intention of creating a new social circle (I have enough of those already, thank you), I do sometimes wonder if that would have made it easier or more enjoyable. Part of the reason I enjoyed choir so much at school - apart from the music making and the actual activity of singing - was because my friends were there as well.

I always feel ambivalent about it at this time of year because it takes me a while to get into the flow of it again after the summer break. I really enjoyed the Mahler and the opera concerts last year, just as I enjoyed the performance at Tewkesbury Abbey the year before that, but I'm usually not so ambivalent as to consider not bothering at all. I'm getting bloody sick of being tired lately, for no apparent reason, no matter how much sleep I get, and I hate it especially when that tiredness is so pervading as to interfere with things I should be enjoying. Except I don't think I do enjoy things really, any more.

There was a point earlier this year when I thought things were getting better... but lately I've just been trying not to fall into a slump. My writing keeps drying up for increasingly longer periods of time; this time it's not because I can't do it, it's just because I'm too exhausted to try. The ideas come rushing at full pelt lately (I had another novel idea on the bus this morning, once again thanks to the Metro) but I end up in this position of "Eh, what's the point" and never bother to take them further.

I should write "Three Strikes..." and get it over with. I think some of this stuff needs to come out of my brain.

I'll stick at choir until Christmas and then see how I feel.
teylaminh: (Daffyd - Wide Eyes)
I can't decide if How To Look Good Naked is inspiring, or merely depressing.

Some vague ramblings about my current TV viewing. )

Not entirely sure what I wanted to say there. I watch the series because I'm turning into a reality/health-related TV junkie (although more so the health-related) and because it's quite watchable in and of itself, but it always results in me coming to the conclusion that every participant on the show, despite their various body issues, hasa better body than me. So, really, the inspiration is rather overshadowed by the self-esteem.

Anyway, as a result of the above, I've decided to put a lid on my New Year's resolution of joining a gym, because it's May already and we'll never have 'enough money' to be able to afford the membership, and, well, I kind of wanted to have lost at least a little weight by the summer, which blatantly isn't going to be happen.

More ramblings... )

Ugh, I really hope this is just PMT.

Anyway. Today the team is going out for a (staggered) lunch with a temp who worked with us for a while, as she's back in Birmingham from a brief stint home to New Zealand. Despite our suggestions a while ago that we should have a team lunch, we have some of us going at 12.00 and some at 1.00 so there's cover. I doubt we'll ever be allowed a proper team lunch... We're going to the Windsor, so at least it'll be cheap.

I'm meeting up with Clare (from Uni) later at the Green Rooms for a drink, as she has just moved temporarily to Birmingham. Should be nice to catch up. I don't think I've seen her since graduation and that was only briefly...

Aaaanyway. Enough with the whining and moaning. I'll post this and wait for my lunch.
teylaminh: (Christine - pity)
I was going to do this meme, as seen on [livejournal.com profile] anotherusedpage's journal, where you take some of your characters and ask them some "about you" type questions... but I started it and then scrapped it when I realised that none of my characters (either in fanfic or otherwise) are actually that interesting. :(

More to the point, all of them are catastrophically whiny. In retrospect, I think they always have been...

Doesn't exactly bode well, does it?

For the record, I intended to use Minh (my Voyager Mary Sue), Mila and possibly Jorel, but yeah. WHINY. Every last one of them.

If anyone is particularly desperate that I fill it out, I will, but meh. Just once it would be nice for the Muses to come up with a character who has some semblance of a personality...
teylaminh: (SB - Max - Oy)
So, yeah, last night was interesting, to say the least...

As ever, things gang up on me and then one other unrelated thing kicks me over the edge. End result: I take it out on Paul, which was horribly unfair given his own circumstances right now, and yeah. I am an emotional retard and should just... STFU, or something. Not over-react. Whatever. Just be glad I wasn't online last night or there would be an entry consisting of my brain's diarrhoea. I was so tired afterwards I didn't even pick up my diary either, but to be honest I'd already spent most of my useful emotion into bawling like a small child, so it wouldn't have been any more coherent.

ANYWAY. I'll be glad when things blow over and we can carry on as normal. Stop being rubbish, 2008. I warned you once already. *shakey fist*

As a result, I am tired today and looking forward to Kiwi's drinks a lot less than I should be... which is a shame, but hopefully we won't be out for too long. I seem to be regaining some semblance of enjoyment for things I should be enjoying, rather than cold dread, which bodes well for actually enjoying them when they roll around, instead of sitting there feeling nothing at all. Despite bemoaning last night that I am still partially crazy and it keeps rolling around every now and then to remind me of that fact, things are so much better than they were. I was starting to reach a point of being positively hermit-like, but yeah, actually, people aren't that bad. Not really. They're just hard work sometimes, and mostly I don't have the patience or inclination or whatever to make the effort required. I'm trying. I'm getting better. If the crazy could just leave me alone, it would really make things easier. Also, if the bloody paranoia could just bugger off now, that would be nice.

On the other side of things, at least David has a job now, starting on 3rd March, so less for my mum to worry about and hence less for me to worry about, too. (Aside from his daughter's issues, but that's a different water-boiling article of piscine things).

Team meeting earlier was unproductive, but at least we now know about the PLO stuff, which is good as we will inevitably end up typing things for it. At least there were no arguments this time. I am very hungry and will go on lunch in half an hour. Yes. Today is a tuna baguette day, I think.
teylaminh: (WIW - Marian)
I'm actually getting quite tempted to stop posting in this journal completely, or at least put it on hiatus until I've got something worth recording. Whatever I do post lately is either inane drivel, whinging, or things that were probably better left unsaid.

I'm still reading my friends-list. You can delete me if you want, but please bear that in mind.

Of course, there's always the fact that I'm only posting for my own benefit. Maybe I should just personalise everything instead.
teylaminh: (MH - numb haven - K/Y)
Another meme, very long. You were warned. )

Actual Entry:
It's quite strange, the way bad news can make everything seem so melancholy.  I am worried for a couple of friends right now.  Mutual LJ friends will know who I'm talking about, I'm sure.  I always try to be a good friend, or at least always want to be, and one of the most frustrating things in the universe is not being able to do anything to help.  I hate that horrible things happen to people who deserve better.

I feel like I'm drifting away from the people I love.  I don't know whose fault that is.  Mine, for not staying in contact.  AOL's, for not allowing me to stay in contact.  Life's, for shutting off my major brain functions to such a degree that I couldn't cope with anything.  Theirs, perhaps.  Who knows?  But either way, it's like being oddly isolated in a bubble of not-knowing.  I don't know them; they don't know me.  All I can do is try and update on what's going on in my life, whether they're listening or not.

I really wanted this year to be better... part of me still has hope that that'll be the case, but it's hard to keep believing when all that happens is bad.
teylaminh: (Cabaret - Maybe This Time)
Computer says "no".

We can't physically afford it. There'd be a desposit of about £250 plus the month's rent, and the timescales would be, like, next month.

No time, no money, no support. We can afford the rent, but not the deposit... at least, not at the moment. And the flat's probably going to go to someone else, as it's in high demand.

I don't even know how I feel about this any more. Part of me isn't surprised in the slightest that, as usual, I got my hopes up about something that was inevitably going to fail. Another part is still horrendously disappointed about it. And yet another part is entirely tempted to give up entirely on ever being able to afford anything better than a grotty bedsit over a shop.

I think it's time to emigrate.
teylaminh: (MH - Yvette Witch - bizarre_imagery)
What is it about the few days before a public/national/commercial holiday (in this case, Valentine's Day) that makes me so disinclined to care? I have all these lovely ideas and no motivation to get off my backside and do anything about them.

The second thing I've got/ordered for Paul off eBay hasn't turned up yet, although it was only paid for on Sunday so that isn't too much of a worry just yet...

The first thing has gone tits-up due to me, in my infinite wisdom, trying to be clever and failing horribly. The thing in question was going to be the fixing of a pendant for reasons I really can't be bothered to go into right now, which I want to wear again anyway because it was my finishing-my-GCSEs present off my mum and the chain's broken. I don't want to get another chain because the one it came with is just the right length and a lovely slim silver.

Anyway, before I'd moved my room around, I must have put it somewhere "safe"... although I'm still convinced it was in my jewellery box, which means that when I got the new box I must have taken the pendant out and put it somewhere else.

Obviously, I have no idea where that might be. I went through the jewellery box about four times this morning and nearly made myself late for work. Aside from the fact that I've had pretty much all week to sort this out and couldn't be bothered/kept forgetting because I'm useless.

So, yeah, I suck. This has put me in quite a despondent mood about the event - what next, is the restaurant going to closed on Tuesday when we turn up for lunch? - and also the fact that our one-year anniversary happens to fall exactly over Easter so most plans will be scuppered due to Bank Holiday stupidity.

I'll attempt to get a card tonight but am not holding out much luck of finding anything half-way decent.

Also, I can't go ahead and organise what I want for my mum's birthday (she's 50 this year) without running it past David first in case he's already planned something. Which is fair enough, but still annoying. My plan was to take her to see Les Mis in London (her birthday's actually on a Friday, she's never seen it live, and I want to see it again anyway) but will now have to check I actually can.

I hate everything.
teylaminh: (JC - cockroach OTP - J/M)
As usual, I can't seem to remember most of it, but I'm putting that down to utter exhaustion.  I've been doing mostly 8 and 8.5-hour days this week in a bid to get work finished, so should at least be rewarded with flex if nothing else.  Oh, and more typing from SHAO, of course, because I don't have enough to do already...

So, yes, Friday was spent doing not very much at all...

Saturday: up before midday, which is an achievement in itself.  Had breakfast, then watched telly for a bit, checked email, watched the pilot episode of Twin Peaks and ate dinner, then got ready to go out to see the Capones at the Market Tavern.

Not many Brethren in attendance, really... was nice to see [livejournal.com profile] 87wt2gxq7 out and about, at least.  The other bands were all quite good as well, but the only trouble with loud music is I find it sort of difficult to differentiate between them all afterwards.  My ears, naturally, are still ringing.

Some random angst in the evening that was entirely due to me being a complete freak of nature, but the less said about that, the better.  I don't know what triggered it, but it, does, at least, prove that I'm not as better as I thought.  Though it does bode well that I haven't spent the majority of the year in tears so far, as compared to the period between June and December of 2005.  So, yeah.  Better, but not good.

Today was spent, er, sleeping, mostly.  Got up just after 11.00 and had breakfast (boiled eggs and waffle soldiers... an interesting combination, to say the least), watched The IT Crowd from last night, missed American Idol and EastEnders, and then watched the next episode of Twin Peaks; the plot thickens.  As for The IT Crowd, it's looking to be quite entertaining, at the very least...

After that, we had a nap for an hour.  Then I got up, and Paul is still asleep.  Ho hum.

We've set up eBay to automatically bid for the hat, as the auction is American and ends at 2.50 in the morning... as there's only one other person bidding for it, I'm hoping I'll get it...

That's about everything, I think.  I'm still tired.
teylaminh: (Random - Rocky lips)
  • There are some days when you shouldn't get out of bed. I'm in one of those moods where I want to have an argument with someone, and unfortunately Paul seems to be my prime target. As usual. I'm biting my tongue so I don't throw a million pointless barbs at him (most of them not even relevant and which don't even bother me ordinarily), but it's a struggle...
  • I am seriously starting to consider becoming teetotal after Christmas (there's too much booze around to start before) but that would probably result in my never going anywhere ever again, because being around drunken people when drunk is bad enough... when sober, it's just annoying.
  • Which is actually kind of annoying in itself, as I like the occasional drink... and then instantly remember why I don't, as my inhibitions get lower and I make an idiot of myself. Because alcohol is the root of all evil.
  • I'm sure I'll commit myself (or not) to this when I'm in a better mindset to make the decision.
  • Dinner at my grandmother's wasn't as bad as I was anticipating, just quite surreal because I've not seen my uncle in about 6 years...
  • I need to do some work now.
teylaminh: (Erik - blank)
I had a really good entry planned to go here.  No, really.  It was going to be fairly lengthy and involve bits of lyrics from various songs that appeared, in order, on my latest MP3-player tracklist.  But, as usual, as soon as I sat down to try and remember all the bits that were in my head, it filed itself neatly in the "I don't think so" part of my brain and refused to come out again.

So you'll have to make do with this rather pathetic effort instead.

I was meant to be going to the pub quiz at the Jug of Ale again tonight, but due to lack of organisation, bad weather, crankiness and general apathy, I really can't be bothered.  Lager is apparently preferable to my company, but right now, I can see why.


"I'm wrong and I'm sorry, baby..."

That's the only bit of lyric I can remember I was going to put here.

I'm going to bed.  No, wait, I'm going to phone Aisha and then I'm going to eat, and then I'm going to bed.

Edit: After phoning Aisha, I learn that the following people have been invited to our meal out on Saturday, apparently:

~ Crystal
~ Rachel
~ Salma
~ Gemma

She'll get back to me about actual attendance at some point.

Crystal I'm fine about. Rachel I'm somewhat dubious about as we did part on rather negative terms, from what I remember, and have changed ridiculously since being at school. Salma, if she can come, would be weird as Hell since I've not seen her since A-levels, but knowing Salma she's not likely to come. As for Gemma...

...holy shit. Just... shit. As if the latest bout of familial angst wasn't head-fucky enough, all of that has to be dragged up again. The last time I saw her she made it patently obvious she wanted nothing more to do with me, and it seems that Aisha's the only one she's stayed in contact with; she accidentally emailed me once with a mass forward and I emailed back to extend the olive branch and got no reply. As far as I'm concerned, that friendship ended a long time ago.

And I thought the nostalgia ended back in October. Oh, how wrong I was...
teylaminh: (Spuffy - numb)
So, I saw The Corpse Bride this evening...

Review herein - possible spoilers )

Go see it!  Honestly, two Burton films in the space of as many months?  I can live with this...

Also saw the trailer for Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and it looks bloody amazing.  Can't wait. :)  [livejournal.com profile] rubytitania and [livejournal.com profile] venuselle, we have to organise a trip to see it.  Also saw the end of the trailer for Brothers Grimm, which looks... interesting.  And also Lassie, which looks shit and over-dramatic with horrible child actors.

Some random whining under here, cut for your deliberance. )
Normal service will be resumed shortly.  Unless I happen to fall under a bus, or something.
teylaminh: (Random - Oblivion wheels)
This month has sucked, to quote Buffy, beyond the telling of it.

Well, most of it has.

I did not sleep well last night.  Was being oddly distant (apparently) with Paul for no apparent reason and irritable in general, kept having half-waking dreams about nothing in particular (though in residual memory, I'm sure I dreamt about the keypad on his mobile...) and woke up defeatedly at 7.30.  The bus took 15 minutes to turn up and then saw fit to sit at a later stop for five minutes (there is very little in the world more annoying than that), as well as getting stuck at every single set of traffic lights between Five Ways and work.  So I got to work at 9.30, which is an improvement on most, but would have been about 20 minutes sooner if not for the above.

Not a good start to the day.

Since I was due for My CareFirst training at Chamberlain House (Kings Heath) that afternoon, I decided to buy some lunch from the local newsagent, and got one of those pasta-n-sauce things... but forgot that I needed a) a saucepan/microwaveable container b) milk c) something to measure above with, so couldn't actually cook the damn thing.  It didn't matter, though, as it transpired, as I just left work at 12.00 and had comfort food in Subway instead and still got to the training before everyone else - and let it be noted, I was going by bus and didn't have a clue where I was supposed to be...

The 50 is a good bus.  It is regular and frequent and on time.  Other buses should learn from this.  But that's neither here nor there.

More suck came in the form of Paul's bank being arseholes and not giving him the loan extension they promised in the first place, which means he has no money and can't afford Derby, which means the whole thing is cancelled.  Watch this space, as I go slowly stir crazy from two weeks in the house.  He emailed me to tell me so and then rang me up five minutes later, which only made things worse because he kept frelling apologising, so I had a little cry about it and seethed for about two hours until it was time to go.

Hence, comfort food in Subway, in the form of hot chicken on Hearty Italian (6-inch) with barbecue sauce...

The training was meant to be from 1.30 to 4.00 and lasted just over an hour in the end, as it was designed for training social workers and was barely relevant to our job except to show us what the new, easier menus look like on the programme.  If it had been just me, it would have been over in about half that time, but I have some rudimentary knowledge of computers to start with...  Tina H gave us all permission to go home and claim pay til 4.00, but I have a serious amount of work to get through before I go on leave so I got a lift back to work (I'm an idiot...) and left at 5.30.  But with any luck, I should be able to leave at 3.30 tomorrow if I get in early enough...

I'm having my pasta and sauce for tea. Unfortunately, my brain is so addled, I can't even read the instructions, so it's being made for me.

Oh, and if that wasn't enough, my body is finally rebelling against the head-explodiness by giving me another kidney infection, so it looks like tomorrow will mostly be spent on the phone cancelling hotels and booking emergency appointments...

If you don't mind, I'm going to follow Maddy's advice.  If you want me, I'll be in the corner waiting for oblivion.
teylaminh: (Random - Garbo)
I'm debating whether or not to articulate all of the things going through my head at this exact moment, but I fear that once I start, everything will start to pour out of my brain at a rate of knots.  We shall see.

For the moment: mood swings were in full force again today, for one reason or another.  At least this time they had a valid cause.  Nevertheless, it's fucking annoying.

My keyboard is starting to contain more bolognese sauce than biscuit crumbs... A stained keyboard is a loved keyboard.

Also?  David's television hates me.  He's put it onto standby, right?  And no matter how many frelling buttons I press on both frelling remote controls, the damn thing refuses to come back on.  It's not that there's anything on that I wanted to watch, but a few minutes brainless slobbing in front of it isn't too much to ask, is it?  I think I'm going to cry.
teylaminh: (Random - Atget mouth door)
Saw Paul earlier.  We met up for drinks, hastily arranged this afternoon, as we were feeling better than yesterday and I was less likely to be all moody and weird.  My brain has settled down somewhat as a result; not completely, but I'm not, at least, desperately wanting to gouge my brain out with a fork.

I did vaguely figure out why I was so angry last night.  I think it was mostly to do with the fact that I'd been having mood swings all frelling day and by the evening I was just well and truly pissed off about it.  I calmed down marginally whilst eating my chicken-kebab-and-chips dinner (food solves everything, obviously) and was then in a foul mood again almost immediately afterwards.  Muttered briefly to Shilpa and Eve on messenger and realised that I suck at life in general and am a terrible friend (don't ask), so by the time I got to bed I was pretty much an emotional wreck.

Which wasn't helped by the fact that dammit, I needed a hug.  That was all.  Just a hug.  Except my hug-giver was on the other side of the frelling city being moody over his own problems, which was partially why I was so blech all night anyway.

So, all in all, not a pleasant evening last night.  I went to bed early (10.30ish), cried pathetically for half an hour, and then didn't get to sleep til midnight because my brain wouldn't STFU and let me sleep.  So, tired again today.  I can deal more with the 'sleepy' tired, I think, because there's an actual cause.  It's the mental, emotional and physical exhaustion I can't cope with.  Nevertheless, I'm getting bored now.  I would like one day to go past when I'm not tired.  Is that so much to ask?  Really?


Inline-type people: I may or may not be in attendance at the cocktail party/shindig tomorrow night.  I'll see how I'm feeling by the afternoon and will probably leave a message on Inline either way.  Part of me wants to get paralytically drunk along with all the other 'mopey gits' (I swear there's something going round), but the other, more sensible part, reminds me that I'm really starting to hate being drunk.  Mostly because I turn into an idiot or get really ridiculously over-emotional (which, considering I already am, would not be pretty) or upset people.  It's not fun.  On the other other hand, I think all the mopey gits should form a mopey git solidarity and mope together over our respective woes.

Eh, we'll see.

Will not be at Capones gig, however, as I need to see my father on Sunday as he still owes me £30, but I think this week I should probably broach the not-going-anymore situation.  Still debating whether or not to tell him about the counselling, as he'll ask why and I'll inevitably end up saying something I shouldn't...

This was meant to be a short entry.


Jun. 29th, 2005 05:26 pm
teylaminh: (Random - Garbo)
Note the mood icon.

I am angry, but I can't pinpoint why.  I've been irritatingly mood-swingy all day, changing from annoyed to upset to tired to irritated (etc, etc) approximately every thirty seconds.  And I would be on the bus to Paul's right now, but he had a friend crisis so we had to cancel, and thus the entire week is now a write-off because we're both irritible and bad company.

So I'm not going to see him til Monday, most likely. :(

Today wasn't too bad, as days go.  Just the usual aggravation and being-made-to-feel-worthless/useless/stupid, which was obviously heightened by feeling generally crap.

This entry was going to be longer and a lot more self-pitying, but like most acts of inspiration lately, it ran away somewhere between my brain and my fingertips.  I'm yearning to write things; I'll pick up a pen to scribble stuff down, and then throw it away in frustration not ten seconds later because I forgot why I was trying in the first place.

The self-pity's annoying, though, so be grateful I didn't bother.

I might attempt to write up the disturbing dream I had last night if I can remember it...
teylaminh: (Random - Garbo)
Well, it's done.  I finally emailed Ben.  Back, admittedly, but that's probably better.  I wondered how long it'd take...

And in keeping with my generally rather oddly angsty state, here's a post that's actually copied from my real diary (very recently attempted so as not to fill LJ with angst.)  This rather defeats its purpose, but I read it back and thought I'd like to share it...  It's from the evening after we went through the old photographs to find some with which to make my nan (who, for the unintiated, has been "Bumble" since I was about four.  No, I don't know why.  I was a weird child.) a calendar for Christmas, which was quite a strange experience...  Amongst the many many photos of me as a child were a whole bunch in a box that we acquired upon my maternal grandmother's death, from various random aunts...

Annoyingly, I still write my best stuff when it's horrendously angsty... it's uncorrected and unedited, too, so be warned. )

It ends abruptly because I was falling asleep at the wheel.  But... hm.  Probably demonstrates that we should never go through old photos when already very tired and nostalgic...

And, no, you're not getting to see the email I composed for Ben.  Mainly becuase I don't have it any more.  It was a case of 'hit send and run away'.
teylaminh: (Christine - pity)
We went to Worcester today to see their Christmas market.  Apparently, it wasn't as good as last year.  There was morris dancing in the streets, and a steam-powered carousel, and lots of mulled wine and roasted chestnuts, amongst other things, but the stalls weren't that exciting.  However, while perusing one such stall, I heard my name uttered.  I looked up to see a tall man and a short woman in a hat.  After several seconds, I realised that said woman was Angela, from uni - the tall man was her other half, Glen, and the artwork they were selling was all his own.

So we chatted briefly (seeing as there was a large queue - well, mob - forming behind me) and caught up.  The weirdest moment was probably when Glen said "Oh, is this the one who writes?", to which she said I was.  He took off his top hat and gloves and shook my hand.  See, when I sent Angela all the random bits of Phantom fic, she read them to Glen, and he liked them.  He's had a book published himself, and told me in no uncertain terms that I should make a go of it as far as writing is concerned.  Which was nice.  My reputation precedes me, apparently.

Of course, it would help immensely if I had the bloody energy to write anything, and if my creativity wasn't slowly withering from sheer exhaustion.

And, since I brought it up. )

I'm wasting way too much energy on this.  If you think it's bad now, wait til I've seen it...
teylaminh: (Random - Atget mouth door)
...is admitting you have a problem.

*stands up* Hi. My name's BeX, and I'm a shopaholic.

Thoughts and contemplations herein. )

I'm quite curious as to how I got onto that from shopaholicism, but I suppose it proves my point that it's simply a way of stopping myself from thinking too hard about anything.  That's the tip of the iceberg, as coherently as I can manage, of one issue currently clouding my brain.  The other issue I will probably post about in due course, when I feel the need to finally vent.  Until then... I'll leave it as my own personal problem, which I can hopefully sort out without the help of anyone else.  However, be warned, I may randomly post another insanely long entry requesting lots of advice.

And now, I need to go to bed.
teylaminh: (Random - Oblivion wheels)
~ Screaming down the telephone at me is not the best way to gain my cooperation first thing in the morning, especially when the situation is out of my hands.

~ I can think of millions of excuses right now to avoid you, and hardly any to see you.  It's not you, it's me.  I am a walking cliché.  I wish you'd be angrier with me, instead of this calm acceptance.  Anger, I can deal with; anger, I can fend off with a million explanations.  Acceptance just leaves me reeling.

~ Guilt smells like Gardenia, but is invisible other than that.

~ If it seems like I'm hassling you, it's because I have a party to organise, and your cooperation would be greatly appreciated.  I just want to know if you're coming, or not.  Is that really so much to ask?

~ Please learn that giving me newspaper articles about people 'getting rich quick' by writing children's books is not going to inspire me.  In fact, it is just going to make me violently annoyed.  I have no desire to be the next J.K.Rowling.  I have no desire to be the next anyone.  I desire to write; that is all.

~ I had forgotten how good escapism was, and now I want it back.  I want to journey to distant galaxies, uncharted territories, hellmouths, places I'll never get to see, from the comfort of my armchair.

~ I miss Derby more than I ever thought I would.  I think I'm starting to understand why so many people go on to do post-grads.  In my case, it would be putting off the inevitability of real life a little longer.  And yet, were I to move back there permanently, I'd miss Birmingham too much.  There was a moment last year when I realised I could never leave this place: I stepped out of the Pallisades onto the ramp, and it was raining and grey and full of people, and it felt like I was coming home.  I wanted to come back here; now I want to go back there.

~ I've been thinking about him again, at exactly the wrong time.

~ In being torn between Athens and Los Angeles, I have inevitably chosen Athens.  There's the money issue - it's £100 cheaper - and the fact that if Vicky doesn't go with me she'll have to go with Laura and will probably not enjoy herself because they'll be arguing.  There's also the wider issue of my getting to America.  Maybe if Aisha's elective had been in June as I originally thought, it might be doable, but with both happening at Easter, I definitely can't afford it.  She wants me to go with her; I'd willingly join her for the bus tour, but that's still £600 in itself, plus spending money.  And even though my heart is screaming at me to go out there, telling me it's everything I've always dreamed of, another part of me is wagging its finger and telling me I can't go, because I haven't earned it.  And that's always been the plan, you see.  To earn it.  So it's been a very difficult decision, but I won't be going with her to L.A.  She'll understand; I know she will.  I've waited this long, and I can wait longer, another five years, another ten, longer still, until I am in such a position as to be satisfied enough with everything I've achieved to say "Well, here we go."  And then, it'll feel so much better.  Right?

~ It turns out, rather ironically, that I am utterly useless at normal human emotions, especially my own.  I can be content either surrounded by people, or completely on my own, but one-on-one interaction terrifes me.  I simultaneously feel the need to explain myself, explain why I am the way I am and why I just can't do this, whilst trying to act like a normal human being.  Fictional people, I can deal with; real people... real people are complex creatures with minds of their own, and I don't think I can cope with that lack of control.

That is all.  Comment, advise, or question at will.
teylaminh: (Christine - pity)
Having wound down from the MH caption insanity (and my inspiration on that's completely dried up, so no more captioning from me for a while...) rumours are rife that series five will be the last one, which makes me sad.  They can't end the series!  They're not allowed to!  They have fangirls to please, dammit!  But, on the plus side, one of the upcoming investigations is in Swindon, which is where Vicky lives, and if I can find out exactly when they're visiting, I think I may be due a stalkage...

I have made [livejournal.com profile] pandorasblog's CD and it'll be in the post tomorrow.  I hope she enjoys it. :)

My mother has become an Anne Summers party host to get spare cash.  Which should hopefully equate eventually to free, or at least discounted, cosetry.  Hurrah.  The lady who came to enrol her is completely nuts. :)

None of the pubs I've applied to have gotten back to me, the bastards.  So tomorrow I'll have to do another search at the Job Centre.  Just... ugh, I fucking hate job hunting.  The only jobs I've ever successfully managed to get weren't based on application forms, but on actually talking to a real person who can see you and interact with you, rather than trying to guess your personality from some basic answers.  One thing's for damn sure; I am not, repeat not working at McDonald's again.  It's the most soul-destroying experience I've ever been through, and I'm never doing it ever again.  Ever.  I'd rather vacuum bloody office blocks.

*sigh*  I want some money, please.

Some ramblings about writing. This'll get long, and I'll complain a lot about nothing in particular. I suggest you ignore it. )

I would like a new brain now.  I'll swap you for one that doesn't think so much.  Just for a week, I want to live like someone who doesn't give a shit about anything and is quite happy being a pointless blot on the landscape, rather than living like someone who cares about far too much and is still a blot on the landscape.  Or maybe just being without brain would be nice.  I'll sell it.

For sale to good home: one brain + thoughts.  Twenty-two years on the clock; well-used but slightly mangled.  Would suit anorexic goth chick, but owner will sell to best offer.

Any takers?
teylaminh: (Default)
last night was the first night in a very long time where i was in bed before 11pm, afternoon naps of late notwithstanding. and i still managed to get up 15 minutes late. *sigh* but at least i managed to make it into uni this morning, which is always a bonus. have been doing some thinking and may journal these thoughts later tonight; thoughts of cats nearly caused me to drift off completely during one of dave's rants in crit theory until i managed to pull my brain back to reality.

i miss the days when i could just drift. while i'm sure actually learning stuff is more advantageous, i yearn for that time when i could just let my mind wander and see where i ended up. logic and maturity dictates it happens rarely.

and shit, i shouldn't be angsting in a public computer lab...

anyway. as i said, thoughts may be posted later. although i realised, in all the stress and exhaustion of last week, what with cats and god only knows what else (and the return of annoyingly hurty infatuation with y-k-w [naomi, don't say a word...] as opposed to the pleasantly hyper one) have meant that i only just realised when reading her latest entry that there's no 'scape tonight, and may not be for a very long time. sigh.

anyway. more doubtless coming at 2am when i'm meant to be sleeping...
teylaminh: (Default)
i'm getting that feeling again.

that feeling like i'm going to fall out with every-sodding-body i know, for one reason or another, over completely pointless things, and probably beyond my control. i spent the entire morning having a ranting match with someone on the farscape bbc board, when normally i would have stepped back and let it fly. i feel like just picking fights with people, just shouting "what's your goddamn problem?!" just so i can clear the air.

tensions are rife over "farscape" now there's only however many episodes left to go. four? something hideous like that. tensions are even further fraught over the fact that the beeb are showing two episodes a week as of next week, and they believe this to be good scheduling...

hence, everyone i know through "farscape" is getting pissed off, (rightly so) and it's making me pissed off even more than i am already about everyone taking it out on each other at every available opportunity. last week was frelling hellish, with one thing or another - saturday night, for two hours during "little shop" and those ten minutes of rambling conversation/gush with y-k-w were the high point of the year so far. for the former, i was just completely relaxed (until the last ten minutes or so, at which point my nerves kicked in again) and i realised, not for the first time, that i'm only ever completely, utterly happy when i'm sitting at a show (depending on whether or not my "iwannabeinamusical" hormone is active or not...) because i adore the genre, and i admire the people who perform in it even though i could never aspire to their standards. i'm humbled, but euphoric.

on a semi-related note, my body completely is not strong enough to cope with the demands my emotions put on it, as proven by my collapsing after meeting him...

i have a proposal to make.

everyone who is angry, for whatever reason - here is your chance to vent. comment on this post. rant at me, rant at the world, rant at yourself, whatever. if you rant at me, especially, feel free to bitch, because if anyone's angry with me i'd appreciate knowing why instead of wondering, constantly, what i've done wrong. i put it to you all: "what is your problem?"

i can't promise not to pass judgement, because right now i'm feeling too opinionated for my own good, but i will promise not to rant back unless i'm agreeing with you.

bring it on.
teylaminh: (Default)
things currently making my brain ache beyond reason:

~ little shop of horrors. more precisely, the going to thereof, and the possibility of meeting you-know-who a second time. it should get easier the second time, not more difficult. i know he's approachable and lovely... but that doesn't help. in fact, that makes it worse. i know for a fact that, no matter how prepared (or, in this case, not) i am, and no matter how calm i appear to be, or think i've become, as soon as he appears i'll be a complete wreck all over again. (and i know he's gay... that doesn't help either...) i could be here all night just mantra-ing an "oh, god..." until i can't speak any more, but i won't...
~ musicals, and all related rants. i have a lot. one day i might actually write some of them down in a coherent fashion.
~ 'cats'. if there's anyone to whom i haven't said this yet, i apologise in advance for march 15th if i fall apart completely or end up in hysterical tears. i can't guarantee i'll be able to control my emotions. to put it simply, SB was probably me at the height of euphoria, catatonic though i was for most of it; 'cats' is probably going to be me at the very height of despair, depending on whether or not i can be bothered to hide it... so, yeah. warning, in advance...
~ 'cats' and related ranty things - namely, that nearly every goddamn state in the US has had a production at some point, and the thing's been touring since, oh, 1999. we here in the UK will, in all liklihood, get this tour. one single tour... a tour that will inevitably end, of a show that will immediately dissolve into the past again. the fact that it's touring at all is bloody amazing. after all, it already toured once, back in 1995... (and, on a somewhat related subject - it's our frelling show. it's british-made. and, as usual, it goes over to america and gets star treatment, whereas over here, in its place of birth, it gets shoved into a box and forgotten about. as i was saying to lloyd on saturday during our heated debate, the three shows that got lloyd webber where he is are 'cats', 'phantom of the opera', and 'joseph' [or anything pre-1980 from the start of his career] and pretty much everything after that has been somewhat mediochre, 'evita' and 'sunset boulevard' aside. [see, i'm a lloyd webber geek, but i'm a sensible and realisitic one. i admit fully that the man is a disgustingly talented moron...] 'cats' is closed; it's immortalised in video form. 'joseph' is closed; it's immortalised in video form; 'evita' is closed; it's immortalised in movie form. do we see a pattern developing? now, they were planning the phantom movie... this worries me intensely. if he closes phantom in the west end, that'll be it. that'll cause me to give up on him entirely. it'll be the final straw, i swear. luckily, thanks to billy wilder's death, they've pushed the sunset movie deadline ahead of the phantom movie, and that's already closed and toured, so i'm not as worried about it aside from the hideous casting decisions... okay, i completely lost my point, there. my point was, once they finish on the west end, that's it, they're forgotten about... in america, it's an entirely different story, and that pisses me off beyond measure...)
~ various shows that i have not enough money to watch. one day, i'll be deathly passionate about something i can bloody afford...
~ the realisation that nearly all of my life-angst comes back full circle to that moment in 1995 when i saw 'cats' for the first time. (and i realise this is a very 'cats-orientated rant, but my brain's on a roll, it seems.) or, at least, all the life-angst that revolves around the part of me that still wants to be a musicals/broadway star despite my decided lack of talent.
~ the further realisation that, even though i'm passing my course, i have no idea what to do with it once i've done it. it's all very well being a fashionably impoverished author, but that's not who i am... i want to be a fashionably disgustingly rich author, and it ain't going to happen because no matter what everyone says, i'm not good enough, and/or do not have the drive to take it anywhere. both of my dreams are falling apart around my knees because i'm too tired to do a damn thing about either of them.

and... okay, i'm going to stop now before this veers even further away from the point. and i realise lately that my angstrants are no longer even cathartic or therapeutic, merely annoying because they make me worse...


you can all go about your business now.
teylaminh: (Default)
i'm going to lock myself in a dark room. i'll get someone to feed me regularly. at least that way i'll either cure myself or drive myself insane. either of those would be preferable to the feeling like my brain's going to cave in.
teylaminh: (Default)
i'm currently resisting the temptation to post on the bbc farscape board under the post about the claudia and wayne event that i couldn't afford to go to, with the words "i hate you all..."

it's taking every ounce of my will-power, i can tell you...
teylaminh: (Default)
well, last night was incredibly bizarre...

at 10.41, i went to bed, having sat through 3 hours worth of "harry potter and the chamber of secrets" (which, by the way, was fun, and the spiders really weren't that bad) and having gone on a "let's see how lost i get if i go this way" route back from the station, and being incredibly tired. this would have been advantageous and gained me in excess of 9 hours of sleep.

unfortunately, i woke up again about 2 hours later at 1.15. and promptly angsted myself to sleep thinking about life, the universe and everything else, in the midst of trying to sort out the so-fluffy-i-could-just-die sunset thing in my head, so i can write it down for myself do it doesn't go out of my head in a week's time. at 4.30, finally, i fell asleep. dead asleep, no dreams, no nothing, and then the alarm went off at 8.00 and i had to drag myself into uni.

luckily, contexts two today was just tutorials, so i got home at 2.00 instead of what is normally 4.15, but what would have been 6.45 (if i was lucky) tonight thanks to a choir rehearsal for the UoD christmas concert in a fortnight's time. which i'm still going to, but at least i'm not in uni all day. and i still have to set the video for farscape.

in the middle of my personal angst last night/this morning, i had a waking nightmare of my calling aisha tonight, and asking if she knew something i didn't about rachel's 21st birthday party (it turns out the invitation just hadn't got to me until this morning) - which then decompiled itself into my asking her exactly what the three of them thought of me, and that i was sick of being the third wheel - to her and gemma in first year, to her and crystal in sixth form, to crystal and rachel. which would then end with us falling out probably permanently.

and, thank frell, the invitation came this morning, and my panic was over nothing. however, i get the impression it'll all be deathly awkward come the day because i haven't seen rachel in god knows how long, aisha since last september, and crystal since my b'day, and those three are still very similar, and i'm not. or maybe that's just my perception on it. who knows. i tried to figure this out once already this year and i can't be bothered to do so again.

anyway. after this, the angst just turned into general life angst, which happens on a semi-regular basis anyway. an what follows is a sort of internal monologue that was going on in my tired-and-refusing-to-let-me-sleep-and-intermingled-with-sunset-fluff brain. reading it is optional. i'm not expecting comments or sympathy or anything; i don't even know why i'm posting it, other than i have nothing else to do with it than write it down, and nowhere else to put it. it's not directed at anyone in particular; rather, it's directed at anyone who does, ever has, or ever will know me, anyone who reads my journal, anyone who doesn't, anyone who might. and whether it's even true to me any more is also debatable, but, anyway, here it is.

p.s: please don't read anything into this. as i said, i was really tired when this was going around my brain, and i'm pretty sure it wasn't even in my voice, so i'm going to blame one of the Muses. as joeMuse and normaMuse were busy trying to get my brain back onto the fluff, that narrows it down to four of them; it won't take me long to figure out who... but seriously. this means nothing. don't worry about me. i do, however, feel that they are valid hypothetical questions, in any case...

rhetorical and hypothetical - note these words! - questions, to whom it may concern )

to anyone that read it, i repeat, it means nothing... really. just tired ramblings from a confused brain at 3am.

however, i feel i should do some glorious farscape angstfic while i'm still in angst queen mode...
teylaminh: (Default)
this doesn't apply right now, but upon reading through old entries (and i was going to go to bed, like, 2 hours ago) i realised that the following is one of my favourite rants/angsts... i think, for once, it just managed to get my point across in a vaguely coherent manner...

"once upon a time, when my dreams were made of diamonds, and my future was far beyond my control, i could see myself up there on that stage. i could hear myself singing the part... jemima... grizabella... christine... eponine... i could hear the applause ringing out, and feel myself bowing, and see the set, all in my mind, clear as crystal. the boards beneath my feet... the musty, indistinguishable aroma of the theatre... the backstage entrance, the stairs, the corridors, the makeup... i knew it all. it was mine, and i could feel it in my grasp, and i knew that if i wished it hard enough, it would be mine...

but i grew up... i didn't take action... i lived on wishes and fantasies and a future i could see but never touch. and now, i can still see that stage, and hear the applause, but it's from a new angle based wholly in reality, in the auditorium, from the velvet padded seat, through the binoculars and the haze of dimmed lighting. if i try to hold onto the image of myself as the great star, it shatters, and all i see is the unconfident and talentless person that stares out of the mirror, who fumbles her lines and can't act for toffee."

and i apologise for the abundance of posts today... going to bed now, honest...
teylaminh: (Default)

don't you just have days when you detest yourself?
teylaminh: (Default)
and, as the constant PMT doth descend, i'd just like to say something.

i have no money. i spent all my money last year on various indulgences such as a new computer, seeing sunset 3 times, going to the con, etc. i am now incredibly overdrawn with no money coming in, and, although it was worth it, i can't help but feel horrible over the sheer amout of money i managed to spend. i tried, in fact, to make a list, and gave up.


the little booklet for the hippodrome came through. going to the hippodrome is expensive. this season, i want to see the following things:

- rocky horror in april
- matthew bourne's nutcracker immediately after
- miss saigon
- the king and i (technically that's at the alex, but still)
- when it gets here (and, in fact, before it does, if i can) - cats.

and i'm going to the con again, having already paid for it.

now. claudia black is signing in london. and i'm not going. i'm a moron. i'm a broke moron who loves musicals too much and must sacrifice something, which just happens to be that.

i'm also a frelling jealous moron. i'm happy for everyone going. i am. i really am. and i know you'll all have a fabulous time.

however. myself being the jealous and sulking type, i politely request you not to tell me about it. or, actually, no, you may, but please ask what my mood is like first...

fangirls with PMT are never good...
teylaminh: (Default)
disclaimer: this is late-night angst cause from sleep deprivation and in no way reflects my actual mental state. actually, i'm frighteningly chipper... or maybe i'm just manic depressive...

that feeling again.

that feeling of wanting to scratch and bite and scream and tear and rip things up into small pieces, of needed to get inside myself and force out whatever it is that's wrong, battling it into submission, just to have a normal life.

that feeling that my brain is shattered and fractured and jumbled up, a mishmash of emotions i no longer desire nor crave, like someone rewired my entire head with the sole purpose of driving me slowly insane. like i want to screw it all up into a little ball and hope it unfolds in the right order.

that feeling of the unknown, the mysterious, the nothingness that lies in my field of vision, of a future built on imagery and fantasy and distant hope, of simply wanting to know.

that feeling of times past, of not being able to shake the nostalgia, of memories that consume.


that feeling of having been around a year, of realising changes, of wondering what changes have yet to occur. of realising i can map my world out on a cyber-journal for the universe to see, of not caring what that universe thinks, because it's my world, goddammit.

tomorrow, i am one. happy birthday to me.
teylaminh: (Default)
the typewriter stirred up ten years of dust as my fingers tapped away, and, scrubbing at it with an old, grubby toothbrush, i uncovered a hair. white, two inches long, tapered at one end, and pulled out root and all. something i hadn't seen for at least 11 months.

after the death, we cleaned; we hoovered the carpets, dusted all the surfaces thoroughly, and washed the bedclothes interwoven with littlewhitehairs, in an attempt to move on. and for two days after i heard him calling me from places where he wasn't, went to fill a bowl with food and wondered four hours later why it was still full...

but some spaces you can't purge. it's been a year since. how fitting that i find that particular relic this afternoon...


May. 12th, 2002 02:49 am
teylaminh: (Default)
i can't escape. there was just the repeat broadcast of the news. (the groupies, it transpires, were just people at covent garden... but there's bound to be groupies up at new london...)

and what really sucks now is that i have a horrible, horrible feeling that i'll never be able to listen to "memory" ever again without crying. and as it's one of my favourite songs, this is not a good thing.

tomorrow (or later, whichever), i have decided to mourn its passing. i will be dressed all in black. my MSN username/quote is a line from "rhapsody on a windy night", by t.s.eliot - the original poem that memory and grizabella were based on. i will also endeavour to make a webpage on my site, just explaining what it meant to me - a eulogy, if you will. failing that, i'll just put it on livejournal...

now you all think i'm completely psycho, right? well maybe i am... but as i couldn't be there to see it go, as i wasn't there in the crowd and couldn't be part of the final applause, i have to do something... may 12th will officially be "cats" mourning day.

feel perfectly free to laugh at me. i am aware that i'm a geek. i know it's difficult to grasp why this hurts so much... but maybe when i get my dedication/webpage thingy done, it'll be easier to understand...
teylaminh: (Default)
well. it's over. "cats" is offically closed. in fact, i'd actually forgotten about it until i just caught the end of a news report on it...

i tried so hard. i really did. i tried not to let it get to me, i tried to put it behind me and tell myself it was stupid... but hearing elaine paige as she sang "memory" just triggered it, that minor stabbing pain in my chest, the feeling of complete desolation, and no possible way to explain why...

and the fact that i could have been there makes it all the worse... i could have been there on thursday night in a front row seat, if only i'd had £45.00, or finished my essay sooner. i could have been there tonight, if only i was famous or 'special' enough to be there for the final performance. i could have seen it, if only i'd found out sooner. moreover, i could be there right now with all those groupies, all those wonderfully dedicated and annoyingly lucky fans, waiting outside the theatre (at least, that's what it looked like) in the faint hope of seeing an original cast member... (or, in my case, stalking lloyd webber and demanding an explanation, or merely throwing myself at his feet and imploring him to re-open it, promise never to close Phantom, convince him the movie is a bad idea unless he gets a decent cast...)

i refuse to cry over this. i can console myself with the fact that i have seen it, twice, which is still twice more than some people who've never seen it, and one of those times was in london. i can convince myself it'll tour like it has on broadway, and i can get front row seats for the hippodrome. it may not be the same, but it's close enough to the dream i never had.

and i can sit here and rant to my heart's content about this, about lloyd webber and his bloody arrogant assumption that he must churn out new-and-interesting things, while he conveniently forgets the things that got him where he is now.

i can also try really, really hard to make myself unobsessed again. but in all honesty, i don't want to do that, because i'll have lost 6 years of my life to this thing without actually achieving anything. which is true of everything i geek over, to be honest, but with "cats", it's different... i had one dream, one teeny, tiny dream. it wasn't much to ask for. just a front row seat. it doesn't seem much of a dream, does it? but it was infinitely more attainable than most of my others...

i feel like my head's going to explode.

there's a lot more i want to say on this matter, but i won't, because it's all purely personal and none of you really understand. just know this - i'm incredibly defensive of the show, i will not hear a bad word against it, and, for now, at least, the slightest little thing is liable to make me either burst into tears, or shout at the perpetrator. so. just a warning.

tomorrow, if i can cope with it, there will be some kind of dedication. perhaps a webpage, if i can be bothered to fight with angelfire... and now i will pour all of this angst into my "sunset boulevard" fanfic... sweet thing's in for a depressing read...


Apr. 12th, 2002 10:54 pm
teylaminh: (Default)
1) something that Must Be Watched: top 10 gay icons, tomorrow on channel 4 (for all you brits). ten-ish, i think. but yay! graham norton, john inman, julian clary, lily savage... they're all there!
[ADDENDUM 14/04: yess!! graham norton won!! and julian clary was third! and the guy from "gimme gimme gimme" was there, too. and somehow i just KNEW lawrence llewllyn bowen would be there... but yay to adorable gay irishmen :D)

2) the SB fic is all completed. its vital statistics run something like this:

the title: "Tango Up On Sunset". may be subject to change. am pondering something less obvious...
the words: 7,506. impressive, no?
the pages: 12.
the plot: dreams and suppressed memories. lots of shippiness. in fact, very little plot at all... and a horribly convoluted ending. never mind.
the task: to get it beta-read by someone who knows something about it (possibly one of my own beta-clients) find somewhere to post it. wait for reviews in attempt to find other obsessive SB fans...

so, yes. it's all finished. i won't subject you to it unless i am requested to.

3) a comment, made by my mother during "frasier", although it bore no relevance to the programme. i was ranting about pop idol, about the severe lack of talent from any of the finalists. and for once, it wasn't a jealousy thing, i don't WANT to be a pop idol, thank you very much. it was just a general observation... anyhoo. the comment was: "it was the saddest moment of my life last friday, knowing you'll never be able to sing in the spotlight, with all your talent."

okay, so she'd had a bottle of wine by this point, otherwise she probably wouldn't have even thought to say it out loud...

(last friday, of course, being SB, in which there is a scene where norma is alone under the spotlight on an otherwise dark stage...)

inside, i was saying to myself a somewhat rambling mantra: "well, there we go. i'll never do it. nice vote of confidence. talent? what talent. saddest moment of your life, well how do you think i feel?" but of course, i can't say that, so i just smiled sweetly and nodded and pretended i wasn't hurting.

this of course was not helped by the following comment of "learn to dance!" *sigh* fine, you wanna pay for it?

grrrrrrrr... i'm more irritated with myself for letting it get to me, really. it was the wine talking. a shame it speaks truth.

*proceeds to bash head into desk repeatedly*
teylaminh: (Default)
something i just this second realised...

while in waterstones on monday, myself and two friends (who shall remain anonymous) were wandering. one of the friends became engrossed in reading something, while i and the other perused the fiction section.

i came to the conclusion some time ago that all the star trek and star wars novels are, in fact, nothing more than fanfics. the only difference is, the authors get paid for it, whereas fanficcers would probably get sued for the same indulgence.

upon noting this to my friend, she said: "you're just jealous."

and you know what? i am. and i admitted to this, somewhat in jest, at the time.

and sometimes i wonder... do you all think i'm doing this for my health? i write maybe... 30% of the time, and if it could be more, it would be. and while most of it may only be fanfic, it's all part of the creative process. and one day, i hope to be published with one of my original things...

i can't do it without support. comments like "but you're not published yet", which i've had, are not helping, because, even if it wasn't intentional, that comment automatically translates into "you never will be, either"...

so i give thanks to the few who have that faith in me - katie - who will always give me positive reviews no matter how crap the work is. it may not be honest, but it's a morale boost. eve - for believing in me. clare - for promising to buy everything i get published (with no 'if' involved).

but now, a simple question. a yes/no will suffice if you're short on time.

all of you, any of you, do you think there's even the smallest chance of my ever getting published? even in the distant future? because if not, i may as well just quit while i'm ahead.
teylaminh: (rose)
first of all, many thanks to her, for this. she had good intentions. unfortunately, i'vev been drinking red wine. the bad kind. not the hyper kind, the silly, stupid depressive kind... (therefore, associate any incoherence and general typos to that fact.)

for those who know me... actually, scratch that, most people don't know me... anyway...

right. first of all, i'm seeing "sunset boulevard" on friday. i'd never really considered the thing much before, but having now seen the 1950 film, and listened to the soundtrack, i am now in love with the whole thing, and can't wait to see it. it's a given that i love musicals.

i've grown up with them. and typically, it's only these past 5 years or so i've realised the only two things i've ever wanted to do in my life are to write professionally (no, not journalism, as my grandmother seems to think...) and/or sing. writing, i've known since i was this big *indicates several inches off floor*. singing, and shows, has been brewing since that fateful day in 1995 when i saw "cats" for the first time. (and don't get me started on that again, please...)

permit me to highlight the problems...

1) both ridiculously competitive career choices. naturally. as if i'd ever make anything easy for myself.

2) i seem to be utterly incapable lately of writing anything other than fanfic. this has its advantages (possibility of leading to actual script-writing), but by the time i'm in the position to do that, everything i write for will be gone... so unless my Muse does some serious original talking, i'm getting nowhere fast.

3) the singing? never in a million years... can't act, can't dance, too old to learn either, not enough confidence to try...

anyway, i'm seeing "sunset boulevard", as i said. and i just know, one day, i'm going to go into a theatre, and halfway through the show, i'm going to have a complete breakdown, simply because i'm on the wrong side of the curtain. every time now, after about half an hour, i'll emit a long sigh and feel the oppression fall on me... and i'll think, "it's not fair. they managed it. there are kids up there. if they can do it, why can't i? why did they get the breaks?" it's fleeting, and usually i can push it back down and enjoy the show like any other person. for two or more hours, i can immerse myself completely in the glamour and the music and the fantasy...

and then, it'll end. reality hits again, and i have to go home, and my head is whirring and spinning from the experience, because it ends too suddenly with no wind-down... and all i can do is think about it, and wonder when it'll be me up there, or if i ever will be...

and one day, i promise myself i'll simply stop doing it. but i also know, that one day, it's going to be the one thing that tips me completely over the edge into the pit of insanity that surely awaits me.

(please forgive the random metaphors. remember. i'm drunk.)

i describe my life in showtunes. "on my own" was my mantra for months, once i got over that, it turned into "one day i'll fly away", and now, it's "over the rainbow". and, for the moment, the only line from a song from "martin guerre", whose name i can't remember, but it sounds nice... "how many tears through the years can i cry?"

they're all very apt...

but the point of this rant was actually about the aforementioned site. at the time, she'd said "i WILL get you into show business, dammit". it's a lovely sentiment and she is a lovely person to try. and at the time, i said i'd audition...

yet more problems (most of which in a comment to a previous post, but reproduced here in a longer format...)

1) i can't audition. for the two hours leading to an audition i go through alternating states of utter panic, serene calm, taking deep breaths, hyperventilation, feeling sick, feeling starving, practising, wondering if i should have changed my mind about whatever piece i'm doing, and convincing myself it'll all go fine/terribly. i can't audition. really. when i get in there, my voice inevitably croaks, i can't stop frelling shaking, i forget all the words (the audition for the DCU being the ultimate proof...), my range drops from two octaves to about half, and i'll mysteriously come down with a cough or a cold or both. i. can't. audition.

if auditions were held at performances by talent spotters, i'd be in with a heck of a better chance. when performing, i'm in complete control despite being nervous as absolute frell... however, things don't work like that...

2) i can't act, as i've said, nor can i dance. in musicals, these two things are fairly important...

3) i never settle for second best, i always want the longest solos, the highest parts, the biggest songs... i've been in choirs since i was about 8. i didn't get a solo til i was 18. 10 years plus now of being one of the sheep, and although i love the sound of choirs, and love being in them, i want more. i want to shine. i want to show off. i thrive on praise; praise for my writing, praise for myself, and praise on my voice. the latter of which, i get the least, but want probably the most. a simple "very nice" can have me grinning for hours. when our duet was described as "angelic" that christmas (the "gaudete" verses, me and angela), i was hyper until midnight.

on the opposite side, even the smallest complaint can send me crashing down again. "not loud enough" tends to encompass most of it. which is why i need lessons, and can't afford them, and am completely self-taught (with help from mrs. swallow and mr. yeo, inadvertently.)

i've utterly digressed from my point, as usual... what i was going to say here was that even if i audition, i'll never make a lead part (lack of experience being one of the other things holding me back), but might, just about, make it into the chorus. which, while it's still 'les mis', isn't exactly what i want. i got the chorus in 'the wiz' in lower sixth. i didn't even bother... there's very little singing involved when you're in a musical chorus unless it's part of the actual costumed cast, and this is a concert. it'll be a backup choir...

4) i'm in derby for the duration of the first and last rehearsals, and the performance itself. this, quite frankly, is the only thing that's holding me back.

5) the auditions are the day after "sunset". i'll most definitely still be wallowing in self-pity that weekend...

6) they want a photo. i'm not photogenic in the slightest. methinks this means they're also basing it on whether one looks right for the part. there's no denying that i certainly don't LOOK like les mis material...

7) my range is ultimately crap. it's not low enough for eponine (even though i know that part inside out) and not high enough for cosette.

therefore, my friends, i concede defeat and shall not be auditioning. it would be psyching myself up for failure. i really don't need something ELSE to push me over the edge.

once upon a time, when my dreams were made of diamonds, and my future was far beyond my control, i could see myself up there on that stage. i could hear myself singing the part... jemima... grizabella... christine... eponine... i could hear the applause ringing out, and feel myself bowing, and see the set, all in my mind, clear as crystal. the boards beneath my feet... the musty, indistinguishable aroma of the theatre... the backstage entrance, the stairs, the corridors, the makeup... i knew it all. it was mine, and i could feel it in my grasp, and i knew that if i wished it hard enough, it would be mine...

but i grew up... i didn't take action... i lived on wishes and fantasies and a future i could see but never touch. and now, i can still see that stage, and hear the applause, but it's from a new angle based wholly in reality, in the auditorium, from the velvet padded seat, through the binoculars and the haze of dimmed lighting. if i try to hold onto the image of myself as the great star, it shatters, and all i see is the unconfident and talentless person that stares out of the mirror, who fumbles her lines and can't act for toffee.

the person i am and the person i wanted to be don't gel any more.

so i'll be head waitress of minkatia, and i'll enjoy it.

but in the end, even that's a fantasy, and even that will probably shatter... and i should live in the present, i should let the past go, and i need to avoid trying to find the future.

and now, i should really stop this entry...

oh, god...

Jan. 29th, 2002 10:41 pm
teylaminh: (Default)
you may recall a while back (or most likely not) that i was very pissed off about missing the 20th anniversary of "cats" and pledged to see it for its 25th.


i have just been informed (i don't know if it's true), that "cats" is closing. my immediate reaction is utterly shocked, completely floored, and devastated. suddenly, my plans are all over. i'll never get to see "cats" again. i'll never have my front row seats. ever.

but more than this, there's something i can't quite explain about why this gets to me so much. there's something about this show, there always has been. i don't even understand it, so there's no way anybody else could (and how teenage depressive is that, for frell's sake...)

people who see it either love it or hate it on sight; there is no in-between. i was one of the ones who loved it, right from the start. for 6 years, this show has been so important to me, like a part of my life i couldn't have gone without. more than phantom, more than les mis, "cats" is the one i held closest to me. i want to protect it, praise it, defend it, and generally make the nation love it as much as me.

it's the longest running musical for a reason - it hasn't closed. (note, i'm not actually sure of this information yet. i know it's closed on broadway, so i guess this was inevitable.) lloyd webber has this amazingly irritating tendency to build my hopes up and dramatically and cataclismically shatter them moments later. (eg: phantom movie - he agreed to cast banderas; song from possible phantom sequel - now used in "the beautiful game"; cats - apparently closing)

i think, as i've said before, it's because i'm the same age as "cats". my parents saw it in london in 1981 when it opened. i saw it in birmingham aged 14 (1995), and then again in 1997 two days after my 16th birthday. since then, it's been one of my frelling life dreams to have front row seats. i don't know why... i really don't. but i was so sure, if i had front row seats to "cats", just once, my life would be worth living. i'm a geek, i know, and i hate this... it's just a frelling musical. i know this. it doesn't help.

another thing. i kidded myself, obviously, i know i did, but one day, i knew i'd get to perform it, either professionally, or in some amateur production. yeah, big what if... but... it seemed so plausible (this is the genuine reason i hate the fact that i can't dance for toffee)

the show's catchphrase is "a memory that will last forever". it's true, seeing it is an experience you never forget. the show's best loved song is "memory", a line of which goes "let the memory live again". i guessed it was destined to be just that - a memory, forever embossed on the minds of its dedicated fans.

i refuse to cry over a damn musical where people dress up as animals... but, still... it hurts, it hurts, it frelling hurts! i feel betrayed (sorry, it's an "i feel" statement, no getting out it), thwarted, crumpled, and very, very sad.

all forms of sympathy welcomed even if you think i'm being stupid... i need a hug. now. (actually, what i need is for someone to say "cats will run forever, you WILL get those seats, you might even be spotted and get to be in it" with enough conviction that i'll believe them. but nobody can do that. so i'll settle for a hug.)
teylaminh: (Default)
i was hyper about an hour ago.

boom. sudden major down. sudden uncontrollable urge to kill something and inflict serious pain on the nearest living thing.




Nov. 5th, 2001 09:06 pm
teylaminh: (Default)

HOW cool? i like a show that doesn't beat around the bush... and you just KNOW something's going to go hideously wrong very very soon... (in fact, i DO know thanks to t.g.u.t. hehe. prepare for angst, all ye who watch to the end of the season.

so, yeah, farscape made me a happy lil bajoran :)

then i watched the "cats" video (well, the bbc documentary thingy on the end anyway...) and ended up depressed about not being able to dance, again. (why, damnit? why am i completely incapable of moving gracefully?)



teylaminh: (Default)

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