“I love you.”

I have heard “I love you” a lot this weekend. That’s a positive. Basically the most romantic weekend ever just lying around in Jamie’s house, almost constantly drunk, cuddling and talking and ummm yeah it was fun haha.

It’s like methadone though. He relieves the pain at the cost of an addiction.

Miss him already so I feel a bit pathetic, but so utterly loved up that it’s hard to care.

In more worrying news – my cousin has hooked up with his flatmate. This weirds me out on a massive scale. Is it really necessary!? Like, nothing is sacred. Now if I am at his flat, she might be there. This scares me. And makes me massively uncomfortable.

This isn’t very articulate thus far but its 1.15am so don’t expect too much stylish chat.

Also I have done something DRASTIC. Sent a letter of apology to Linda, who has hated me for around a year now. Could go either way, she might surprise me by responding nicely or gratify me by ignoring it completely or prove everything I have ever said bad about her to be correct by mocking me for even trying. It was bugging me though. The way we feel out and stuff was ridiculous, and considering that whole incident involving me and her I think its a shame we cant even be civil. She has nasty shit about me on her bebo, for fucks sake. Who does that? Anyway, we’ll see how that develops.

I start work tomorrow. I’m nervous. Better get to bedfordshire!

Desperately Seeking…

The blue-eyed boy who wears a Bad Religion hoodie and drinks White Russians in Nice n Sleazys.

Clare has had a “lust at first sight” moment and is now infatuated with a stranger – so it would be nice to hook them up.

I didn’t go to Aberdeen – stupidly – but I have had a decent day, re-read my Muriel Spark book before I have to start my essay so I have a million ideas swirling around in my head. Got very frustrated trying to roll a joint though – why is nothing as easy as it looks?!

Tomorrow I’m going to the Dread(ful) which will in fact be Beauti(ful) as my lovely boy is going too. He has been uncommonly sweet today, sending me gorgeous wee messages out of the blue and lifting my spirits no end. Bless.

So, my essay. I’m thinking of doing the generic “write on the end of the book” question and using The Driver’s Seat and Villette as my examples – both of which have the most bizarre and frustrating conclusions EVER. Part of me longs to tackle the Nietzsche quotation but after risking it the last time and underachieving I figure I should keep it a bit less ambitious. Shame on you if you fool me once etc.

Have made plans to catch up with Stephen and John on Tuesday. Thank fuck. They’ve been my best pals for as long as I can remember but this year has really created a distance between us. I deny it whenever I can but I have to be honest, things just aren’t the same as they used to be. I think relationships make a lot of difference – the four of us (including Zoe) used to be very single so getting fucked up and pulling strange faces every weekend seemed like the best option. But now we are all relatively settled with a significant other so circumstances are very different. Pisses me off though, as I was the only one who was in and out of relationships throughout those crazy days so I feel a bit ditched now. I always had room in my life for them and for a boyfriend, whereas they obviously had other ideas.

It’s probably not entirely surprising that John is the one who has been most constant. Hasn’t he ALWAYS been the one who is most constant? But also there has never been any kind of indiscretion with me and John, he sees me as a sister and the platonic feelings are certainly mutual. However both Zoe and Stephen have kind of had more with me in the past. Cracks me up that when I was with David, Zoe told me that things with me and her HAD TO stay the same yet as soon as her boyfriend raises an objection our relationship completely changes. It’s different when she gets drunk though, the atmosphere is different. I think it makes her boyfriend uncomfortable, probably understandably. I don’t mind – me and Zoe couldn’t go on like that forever, knowing both of our characters – but the hypocrisy doesn’t escape me. Meanwhile, Mum waits till Stephen has a girlfriend to tell me that he proclaimed undying love one night I wasn’t out to hear it. That unsettled me. Obviously I was aware of the schoolboy/girl crushes or whatever, and I know we were prone to a very rare drunken moment of madness, but I genuinely thought we had established a friendship totally apart from all that. Yet I have been replaced, and by a lover. All very interesting. Nothing to do about it now, but I’m glad I found Jamie when I did. Or it could have been a very lonely year for me.

That’ll do for tonight. Looking forward to the weekend! Now, back to Muriel Spark…

Violent Pornography.

Hi, sorry if you have found this blog because you were searching google for “violent pornography.” I hope you wank yourself to death, weirdo.

I’m posting this because I’ve been reading up on Andrea Dworkin and other “radical” feminists that have become the bogey[wo]men to some people. And I’ve been having a long, hard think about the nature of pornography so I can decide where I stand.

I’ve always opposed it based on the grounds that it commodified and dehumanised the most natural and human act we have left, and totally avoided questions regarding the morality of it and the psychology of it, purely because they intimidated me. Plus – when you think about it too long it can start to make you feel very uncomfortable.

The link between rape and violent pornography is particularly interesting. Is rape the cause or the resultant of pornography? Well, both, I think. I think it is a manifestation of power and violence over women in much the same way as rape is, and so is both inspired by and an inspiration for rape itself.

So many people think it is harmless, “the women get paid well for it and it is their decision” etc etc. Well what kind of world do we live in when that is an attractive option for a woman?! As for the money, I think it comes at a cost to self-esteem and self-respect, thanks.

Something that struck me from my past when I was reading various articles – agreeing with some things and disagreeing with others – was my reaction upon discovering my boyfriend’s porn when I was 15. I just remember feeling totally disgusted, just feeling sick. The thought of him being excited by it made me feel inadequate, disposable, violated.. and a lot less attracted to him. It’s such an ugly thing, I don’t think many guys get how unsexy porn can be for a woman.

And when I spoke to a [male] friend about it, all he had to say was “trust me, you should be grateful for porn. That is where guys learn all they know about sex.”

Well, LUCKY ME. Funnily enough, that was exactly what I feared.

PS. I feel the same about gay and lesbian pornography. The former generally degrading one to an “effeminate” and so impained, submissive role and the latter projecting the fantasies of heterosexual males as opposed to bisexual or lesbian females. The powerful male lurks behind all pornographic material.

PSS. In arguments, the whole “dominatrix” thing is often brought up as an argument FOR women in porn. The only reason men find it so uncommonly erotic to watch a sexually assertive and aggressive woman is because it is so unlike the norm – it is alien, and so highly exciting. In much the same way as black or asian women are often eroticised in pornography.

PSSS. Don’t even get me STARTED on all that “barely legal” shit. Hiya, paedo.

On the road again.

Back home with the family. Not too bad at the moment, probably because I have my days to myself. Only the universities seem to be off at the moment. Most of the day I go long walks or read and enjoy my peace and freedom.

Maybe going on a road trip to Aberdeen with Gemma and Scott tomorrow though. Should stay here and study, probably wont..

Was at Death Disco with them last Saturday. It was actually so good! I dunno why it wasn’t as scary as usual. Probably since I limited myself to white wine. It’s funny how you learn stuff when you’re young then get older and decide it was all nonsense, totally disregard it then discover it was true all along.

Examples – “exams are important” “drugs are dangerous” “sex is better with someone you love and trust” etc etc

I guess growing up is about finding the truths out for yourself, authenticating the advice of others. It would be dull to just accept it without question, but a lot less traumatic.

It was St Patricks Day on Monday. I was at Jamie’s so we all went for a drink. It was nice, but I drank too much and threw up like a thirteen year old. Should have lined my stomach first. Another life lesson re-discovered. I was so embarassed the next day, really mad at myself for being so stupid. I felt like I had spoiled the night although I knew that was irrational. It was for selfish reasons really – I was annoyed at myself for wasting precious time with Jamie.

This weekend looks to be promising. Assuming I go to Aberdeen tomorrow with Gemma and Scott we should get a decent night out there, then Friday at the Dreadful with the usual faces. Saturday I have promised to Zoe – I miss her a lot but could do without the trek to Edinburgh, as skint as I currently am. Ah well, fuck it. My bank statement has become a meaningless stream of numbers anyway. I read some stupid article in a “women’s magazine” recently that asserted the source of true happiness as being a life that ignores weight and money issues. As if. But something struck a chord about it. I guess weight and money are the two most stupid things to get worked up about. So without them you may not get true happiness but you can at least enjoy justifiable unhappiness?

I don’t know what I’m rambling on about tonight.

I wish my brother didn’t have to revise. I want to make him watch shit things on telly and entertain me. I’m selfish like that. He’s so excited about his band at the moment, it’s cute. I’m excited about his gigs but I will be nervous for him.

Aberdeen – to go or not to go? That is the question.

Aye, I heard you like a big Coke now and again.

Today was not the most productive day. Did plan to attend my Eng Lit lecture but my crazy ass landlord turned up 20 minutes before it to fix my window latch and I didn’t want to leave until he was done. He brought his wife, I think to make me feel more comfortable? But it didn’t really. I just kind of sat on my bed all awkward and watching. Not cool.

I’m gutted I missed that lecture, actually. It was going to be on a Muriel Spark book I really love and I wanted to check my interpretation of it wasn’t entirely wrong before starting my essay. Oh, well.

Made it to Comparative Lit. This year the books I am studying are really affecting me to be honest. The recurring motif is “male violence under patriarchy.” I knew I was going to find the topic interesting but a lot of old wounds have been opened up as a result. Probably a good thing, maybe I can finally address some of the fucked up stuff that went down in the past. But I’m having nightmares again, and I’m scared that this is some kind of sign that my life is going to be rudely interrupted by the ghosts of my past - as it has been previously.

Today we were focussing on memory, and how that is linked to identity. The particular case we were examining was that of Sethe in Toni Morrison’s ‘Beloved’ but I drifted off and started reflecting on my own memories. How typically egocentric of me. Anyway, it occurred to me that some incidents I had dismissed at the time actually had a significance that I couldn’t quite grasp until now. My own perspective on fundamental things such as love, and respect, and sex (particularly sex) have been affected in such a profound way by the horrible events of a few years previous.

I don’t have anyone I can speak to about stuff like that, though. My friends don’t want to hear me get all serious and emotional. Their morbid side is happy to hear a dark tale from my murky past but only if I tell it flippantly, with characteristic self-deprecation and a confidence that is ALL show. If I came at them with a genuine issue and feelings that cannot be trivialised they would probably take a seizure, I know I would. My family know as much as I can tell them about previous relationships but there’s no way I could let them know the full extent of it. Jamie is the one person I could trust but I wont tell him for various reasons. I mean, for a start, I don’t want to know ANYTHING about his old partners. I’m way too jealous for that. I don’t even want to acknowledge that he has been attracted to another human, far less been in love or whatever. So it would be severely hypocritical to come at him with a sob story while keeping the floodgates closed on his side. Also, it might change the way he thinks of me. As much as I resent this attitude in others and feel like anyone who has been in an abusive relationship shouldn’t feel ashamed… I just worry about his reaction.

I would hate for him to change. Because things with us are really perfect. He treats me exactly as I want to be treated. I have brief spells of confusion, and moments of panic, but I know that is because of the past and not because of his behaviour at all.

On a lighter note! Went for lunch with Gemma and Scott which was great. Scott brings out the absolute worst in me when it comes to gutter-humour. Being “tight” with cash and “wanting a big Coke” were met with ridiculous sniggering. Gemma was looking fucking fantastic and I’m glad that things seem to be on the up for her. Made plans to hit Death Disco next week. It should be epic and neither of them have been before so hopefully they wont be disappointed. It’s such an expensive night but most people just get totally pilled and don’t bother with buying bevs. Hmm.. I wonder how the naive and reserved Gemma shall react to the best of Glasgow’s gay scene; their flamboyant fashion, designer drugs and dirty dancing do make quite a spectacle. Scott will be in his element.

Plans for tonight? Working 8 till late. Lots of people going to Viper tonight and I could too, if I wanted, but even the most missed of old faces couldn’t tempt me out to that dive. They have a pole, for fucks sake. It’s all too depressing. And I think, with my current militant state of mind against male aggression, the first sleazy rugby boy to grab my arse would be served his balls on a plate.

No, no Viper for me tonight. I will curl up with Curb Your Enthusiasm and a cuppa tea, and feel a lot better for it in the morning no doubt. Shit, better read that chapter of Ulysses for my tutorial. Got an interview for the playscheme after it. Then 8 hours of… who knows… until Jamie finishes work. Another hedonistic dream of a day.

PS. Still haven’t decided what I am doing in summer.

The summer of love. Probably.

So yeah, just off my phone interview and it appears I could be spending summer in London.
Or Brighton. Or some default English town I am unfamiliar with.

I’ve been so restless recently, I’ve placed so much significance on this summer, and now that I have a possible means of escape.. I’m not sure I want to go.

I’m actually genuinely glad I wont be back at the call centre in Livingston, doing the depressing rounds of the West Lothian nightlife and dealing with identity crisis after identity crisis as I bump into a million old faces in the same old places.

But I had pretty much convinced myself that it could be ok. Like, I have a boyfriend now. A fucking epic dream of a boyfriend. And I still have some good friends back home as well. In the past week, as the sun has gradually returned and reminded me of its existence, I had started dreaming of evenings spent in a park, drinking cider, laughing.. Acoustic guitars, grass, friendship, romance. Living the summer of love dream or whatever. I’m reluctant to part with that fantasy, particularly when it’s bright and I’m listening to Belle and Sebastian and missing people. But let’s be honest, the reality would hardly compare.

I’d probably end up knackered and disillusioned after another shit day trying to push overpriced b&bs on foreigners that barely understand who they have given their credit card details to before dressing to impress for another morbid evening spent observing morons in establishments where your feet stick to the floor so you couldn’t dance even if you wanted to.

Plus, aforementioned epic boyfriend will be working all summer. And it will probably be more frustrating to be twenty minutes away and unable to see him than three hours away in the same position.

As for friends back home.. if recent history is anything to go by then I’m more likely to recieve a phone call from the banker on Deal Or No Deal than the people I want to spend time with. So much stuff has changed since last summer. Although it has passed with terrifying speed it has brought so much emotional overhaul that August 07 seems like a million years ago, on another planet.

Obviously if I do end up down South - and who knows if I will? My nature dictates that not even I will until two minutes before departure – then there is also the risk of losing aforementioned boyfriend completely. This would be a tragedy on a drastic scale and I would never forgive myself if my petty hatred for my hometown and my desire to escape resulted in ruining the best thing to ever happen to me romance-wise.

He says it wont. And I trust him, to a degree. I just don’t trust myself. Not that I would ever cheat on him – for reasons that are nothing to do with morals and everything to do with just not wanting anyone else in the World but him – but I know that I will be a paranoid wreck after last summer’s catastrophe so yet again my own insecurities could be my downfall.

It’s not fair on Jamie. He hasn’t done anything to give my doubts credibility and he is nothing like ‘him’ so why should he be punished for ‘his’ mistakes? I totally didn’t realise how much last summer had affected me until I fell in love with Jamie, though. I think what I have to remember is that this is a whole new experience for me, this ACTUAL love business, so the old rules of fucking juvenile power-games ‘luv’ do not apply. I shouldn’t keep looking for patterns.

Conclusions for this summer? None as yet. Don’t lose Jamie. Yeah, that is the only plan that matters.