Monday, 29 September 2008

Here come real stars

Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,
And here on earth come emulating flies,
That though they never equal stars in size,
(And they were never really stars at heart)
Achieve at times a very star-like start.
Only, of course, they can't sustain the part.

Thursday, 25 September 2008

Ay, there's the rub.

I'm restless and I can't sleep. So, not understanding it, I draw my laptop towards me and think about what to write and yet what I conjure is as light as air. I find myself riddled with thoughts, plots, ideas, people, music, wonders and nowhere to rest them. And so they race.

I see your brows are full of discontent,
Your hearts of sorrow, and your eyes of tears.

This is only fleeting, like a sudden mist gathering over a cliffside town, but when I wake, I hope things are clearer.

We are such stuff that dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep.

I feel like my brain is buzzing. I'm already feeling the straight-jacket of stress. Though for the moment, there is nothing immediately pressing, I can feel it approaching. Is it just me or is this feeling common? I constantly find myself wishing to escape.

Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!
Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets!

O but that day should crawl closer and be sooner..

To sleep, perchance to dream- ay, there's the rub

Sunday, 21 September 2008

Life imitates art

It must be wrong of me to aspire to live the american sitcom.

A while ago, Sylverine mentioned she couldn't wait till we're older and we could invite eachother over for tea and chat.

I finally get what she was on about.

I was just watching some random sitcom (My Boys) and I realised how much I wished I had an apartment door to close after a gang of my friends came 'round with food and drink for a night in.

Just an evening of good times yknow? Even if it's just settling in front of the TV to watch crappy stuff. Staying late because you're in a friend's home and not constrained by anything.

And then I thought about Will and Grace and Friends, and I adore that people are always dropping in just to hang out.

I want that.

And so I now take back my scoffing at Sylverine at wishing away our youth because now I see it.

I look forward to when I'm an older and more mature cheese (although mozzarella is best fresh), and I am going to have an eclectic apartment (in London?), which will be decked out with exotic things from my travels, and photographs taken by me, blown up and framed on the walls.

To this apartment I will invite Sylverine and hopefully other people who love me enough to overlook my atrocious eccentricities ( a nice way of saying idiocy).

Saturday, 20 September 2008

I looked upon the wonderland

rupsi says:
i hate zefron
ms. zammil says:
ms. zammil says:
I see
rupsi says:
dont you?
ms. zammil says:
ms. zammil says:
I like his name
ms. zammil says:
he sounds like a fabric soap
ms. zammil says:
Zac Efron! Get your whites whiter!

Sylverine is my favourite friend and I am so glad to have her.
She says 'Sometimes, you are so funny'.

I feel joyous.

Friday, 19 September 2008

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

I'm dancing to some mellow jazz at a wedding and it appears that I am in a white wedding dress. Beehive hairstyle. Very 60s bollywood. This is all very odd.

Then, I spot this man sitting at one of the (round) tables on the edge of the dancefloor, watching me. I walk over to him and I clearly know him. He's an older man, broad in chest and shoulders but lean all over. Navy gorgeously cut suit. And rather attractive.

I have good taste.

'What are you doing here?' I ask.
'I'm here to see you' he answers as he stands.

He shakes out a giant piece of white chiffon as he begins to move to the music with me. He tosses it into the air, and it lands on my head but instead of looking like a buffoon, it lands like a bridal veil.

We continue to move until he says we need to talk. Together we leave the dancefloor and sit at a table on our lonesomes at the back of the hall.

He puts a box on the table and it's clear I've been waiting for this.
I open the box and inside is a Tiffany's box.
Inside the box is this hideous monster of a ring, with no stone! My jaw drops and he laughs at me.
'Open the ring' he says. I proceed to unscrew what should have been the stone and find yet another flat metal expanse with a Tiffany's logo engraving.
Clocking onto what's going on now, I uscrew that. Again, flat metal and Tiffany's.
My ring was some sort of russian doll thing hmm? So I continue in this theme, until I'm thinking ' My diamond must be miniature'..
I keep going though, until I reach what must be the last casing. My sister has arrived on the scene at this point. I unscrew and again my jaw drops. There is nothing there.
He sits and laughs as he shows me a hidden compartment in the box which I completely missed.

He opens something shaped like a bullet casing and inside is a coloured diamond about 2.5 carats big. Putting it in my hand, he asks me to marry him.
Gazing at the stone in my palm, I hear my sister telling me to take it and marry him.
Looking from diamond to him and back, I tell him I need to think about it because suddenly I am daunted by the fact that this stone, once made into a ring cements the fact that I'm marrying him. For EVER.

We sit and we have dinner together and then --


O sweet aargh...I am woken by builders knocking on my door.

What did the dream mean? I have no idea. I had no time to contemplate it as I hurriedly donned something vaguely acceptable and went to explain where the door and window should be in the developing extension.

Tuesday, 16 September 2008

Puff go my sleeves

Today was a good day.
As I write this, my scarf has kindly moulted all over my jumper and my toes huddle and curl in the attempt of warming themselves in my shoes.

It was fun being the patronising awkward mother/teacher of the school of virtue.

I dont know how long I'll be able to keep my position though:
"I like chests.i like them christian bale's...ooh christian bale..mmm...aargh its ramadan!"

Ted departs for spain in a few days. I hope she watches out for herself. I still see her as a child even though I shouldn't.

I bought a cute dress..

Yes it's been a good day.

Wednesday, 10 September 2008


I don't want to. Really. One of the applicants for the position of Man Of My Eye (MOME) emailed me this morning. So far, I don't like his height, or name. And i havent even seen his pic yet. Does this make me shallow?..yes. Which deadly sin have i succumbed to now? Little bit of vanity, bit of pride?
Is it too much to ask that my MOME is somewhat like the leading male in elissa's bitmoun video.
I have a sneaky feeling (sneaky like a punch in the face) that my MOME will not transpire through my mother's connections.

What am I Going to do?


Monday, 8 September 2008

Indifference and neglect often do more damage than outright dislike

It seems that to counter the numbers of those that do not abstain although they are obligated to, there is an equal and opposite force of people who abstain out of choice.

It can really disappoint one.

I don't know how I should feel about this.

So I just won't.
Or at least I'll try not to.

Sunday, 7 September 2008


Sometimes, I feel that it would have been better to have left some things and people as mere ink spills on the pages of the past.

Instead, I invite them into chapters of the future.

'Big mistake. Huge.'

Saturday, 6 September 2008

When it rains, it pours.

Two wonderfuls in one day. Truly an intoxicating experience.

The one from last week came back today. This led to many a giggle between red and I. She even decided not to go and get a drink in order to watch how things panned out with river and I. River is my name for him.

The other wonderful was just the nicest of guys. Much jovial conversation occurred... I love when people (like him) are open and relaxed. And you can talk and be honest and not have to drive a sale. At the Hawk they're all about driving home the sale. Sell sell sell. Watching you like you are their baby Hawks trying to seize the fattest, juiciest, plumpest of prey.

That. Is. Lame. Play fair. Be honest. People will appreciate it.

I sound like the worst sales assistant on the planet.
O well. Not long left at the Hawk anyway.

And's customers, particularly the second wonderful (now christened Strudel)...
Strudel was just so adorable. I love when you discover people's quirks. Makes me wonder what kind of quirks I have that I always express.

Aside: Slim at the Hawk says I overuse wonderful...I dono. WHICH reminds me...I mustn't forget to have a good rant about the new kid on the block at work. Brat, let's call her. Complete and utter spoiled brat. She makes my skin crawl.

I like to talk. All the hawks at the Hawk say I become friends with the customers. Well..that's me. I like to talk to people and get to know them. I like that when they leave, they turn back and say 'It was really good talking to you'.

I like to leave a lasting impression.

Its days like these which make me think I'll miss the Hawk.

Through the Vine

'The vine bears three kinds of grapes: the first of pleasure, the second of intoxication, the third of disgust. '

Said by Diogenes. Which one? I don't know. Reading around on Google, I assume this is in reference to alcohol. However, do we not often auto-categorise things in our day to day lives into pleasurable, intoxicating and disgusting?

Intoxication is something that can be attractive and compelling and yet also sometimes something so powerfully repugnant it draws you in.

Verily, intoxication is troubling grounds.

Looking at my list of Rant-cid Milk, I was thinking which I would write about next. Men in suits give me a certain pleasure. Rotten children and adults alike disgust me...what intoxicates me?

I predict the next few entries falling into these three categories; pleasure, disgust and intoxication.

Tuesday, 2 September 2008

Then I think you have to develop a kind of resistance to rejection.

A few days ago I had another attack of singles' desperation. You know, the feeling that you're going to die alone because either a) you never think you're good enough for someone to love you or b) no one is good enough for you to love.
It was wild. I truly felt that I was on the edge of sanity.

I think the feeling arose out of a feeling of dejection and rejection. Ooh they rhyme!

Feeling rejected is not a hot feeling. I wasn't rejected by a bloke. No no, that would be horrifically embarassing, although that kind of hurt would be fleeting. It is the rejection of your friends which kills. And what's worse is thinking it's rejection when it could be something so simple and explainable, but your pride doesn't let you ask.

Ah Pride..
I never really think of myself as proud. But I do realise that sometimes my pride is like the glass window to a bee trapped in a room.

Being this bee trapped in the room, I'm forced to look through the window. Seeing the outside but not hearing it. And so I don't have a full understanding of my environment.
Hmm...this analogy seems to have carried itself further than I thought it would.

My pride is what stops me from being open to new people I guess. It's something that stops me from being free of inhibitions. Pride is what makes us look at people with different hair/clothes/accents and give them names like chav. You may say it's prejudice. But really it's our pride, the thing that makes us feel we're somehow better than them, that we have dominion over them. And so we name them.
Pride is lame....

Anyway. So this fiasco has led me to believe I'm going to be alone forever. If I can't even get my friends to like me, how am I going to get a bloke to love me?!

Aside Re: The wonderful from the Hawk. He didn't trick me twice. He didn't come in on Saturday, I rang, he said he'd see me on Sunday, I said no I work Wednesday, then I breezed over it all before he got a chance to say/do anything.

On Sunday, my mum put two proposals from some people she knows on my plate. I was shocked. Surprised. I said yes gimme gimme. Then an hour later I said no. These guys are from my land. Snapland. I don't like boys from Snapland generally. So I shouldn't waste their time.

Then I fell further into my dying-alone stupor.

What is it with my wanting to be with someone? Why can't I just be happy as I am?! I'm only twenty, coming to the end of my time at the Dictator, and I ought to be happy that I've got the next few years to figure out what I want in life. And yet I find myself falling into that hideous persona of a chick wishing to wed. As I said earlier, I think this may just be a side-effect of feeling rejected by Woody and Xia.
Nano says they're not worth my time. Sylverine agrees. Yoohoo advises the complete opposite. My mum says I should trust my instinct.

My instinct has me wanting a man in my life.

I need to shake myself out of it.

'You have to dream, you have to have a vision, and you have to set a goal for yourself that might even scare you a little because sometimes that seems far beyond your reach. Then I think you have to develop a kind of resistance to rejection, and to the disappointments that are sure to come your way.'