How a man must feel sometimes

I think I’m beginning to understand how a bloke feels when his girl says no to sex because of that horrendous monthly affair known as the period. And it’s with sex like with everything else. When you know you can’t have it, you start craving it real bad. A is on the second week of his detox diet which also apparently means that sex should be kept to a minimum for the Zink level in your body to get a chance to rise de with your diet. I have read somewhere that the more Zink you have in your body, the better the sex is going to be. If that’s true, then I guess I can wait a little longer although I doubt that sex I already classify as perfect can’t get any better.

Apart from craving some love, I’ve had quite a busy week. It started off on Monday when I was going to eat dinner in the restaurant I work in for the very first time. TG, her man she calls Hunny muffin, MM, E, R, C (girl who works there and last but not least, sincerely yours, had a very good time. It was a Chinese theme to that particular evening. The food was nice, but was more like Chinese food with a western inspiration. We drank quite a bit of Rose wine, but I only got happily tipsy, as did everyone else. Tuesday, I was working, but had the Chinese left overs for staff dinner. Yesterday, A and I went to Argos to get me a TV and a DVD player. I don’t really watch TV all that much, but I think that’s partly because I haven’t had my own and I sometimes wish I could watch a particular documentary or programme everyone else is going on about. In the evening, I went to celebrate HB’s birthday. I haven’t seen him in ages and it was so good to see both him and all the others again. HB was there with Miss C, his girlfriend, HMF with her new man, Baby G and her boyfriend and some other people I know, but not all that well including this huge big Aussie who entertained us with “When I was in prison in Bangkok” and other Asian adventures. That would actually make a good book title, “When I was in prison in Bangkok and other Asian adventures.” We went to a restaurant on a boat which was a Thai restaurant. I was not pleased having food from that part of the world for a third day in a row. I can cope with any kind of food now, just not Chinese or Thai!

Ant came over today to take some more photos. As usual when he’s been around, we ended up chatting and drinking tea. I also received my new Eddirol r-09 recorder and he helped me sort it out. He’d brought some pastries and white chocolate which I thought was really sweet and he told me TG had told me all about my love life before we started taking the photos together. That girl’s really sad! Why can’t she just mind her own business? It didn’t shock me that she’d told him though but I am a little upset about it. God know how many others she’s told! I’m gradually cutting her out of my life now. I can be friends with her, but will never confide in her again.

Gonna spend the rest of the evening to myself I think with a Sara Paretsky book. I’ve started reading her entire V.V. Warshawski series now. She’s a little bit like Sue Grafton, only much better in my opinion. V.I. is just similar to me in so many ways.

Now I know where I stand with A. As he put it the other day, I’m his close friend, his lover and a little bit more. Still I sometimes feel awkward and don’t always know when he’s joking. Like yesterday, my phone was ringing and I didn’t know the number. I checked it quickly, but when I was gonna answer, I somehow pressed the wrong key. He joked about, or at least I think so, that I was hiding something for him and I let him see my log and called the person back. It was a close friend I knew from Edinburgh, a girl so it was fine. It’s just that I feel I have to justify any contact I have with mail individuals. Maybe it’s just a passing stage and that either he will learn to trust me, I will learn to know when he’s joking, or both. I think I’ll have to learn to trust him as well.

How does it work?

When I started writing this blog back in November of last year, I didn’t have the decency to actually introduce myself and the reason why I wrote the blog like so many other bloggers seem to do. At the time, it didn’t even cross my mind. I didn’t read a lot of other blogs and I just used the writing as a healthy way to let my feelings out. I still use the writing for that reason I guess. However, I’ve been looking at a few blogs lately and I’m wondering how some blogs which are really badly written and has no good pictures to make up for it can get 61 comments a day. A post I found on a blog I won’t reveal the name of for example went something along the lines of: “Just arrived in this wonderful city I have returned to year after year since my mother took me there for my 17th birthday. Tears of happiness were streaming down my face as I saw all the familiar buildings that I had come to love and know so well from the cab window”. As I said, this was just a paraphrasing and not really what the blogger said. Anyway, that post had a ridiculous amount of comments like 40 or something. The rest of the blog is the same. Some posts are well written, but a lot of them are short and boring, yet they receive so many comments! How come? Is my question.

I guess what I’m really trying to say is: How can my blog get noticed and how can I get people to leave more comments? It’s not that I want to be famous, appear on talkshows and publish a book based on my blog, well, it would be fun, but it’s more the fact that I would get a boost from it as a writer. And there’s enough boring material here. The post entitled Improvement for instance where the sentences don’t make sense simply because of the state of mind I was in when I wrote it and many many more.

I would also like to read blogs in my category. The only once I know so far are High maintenance femme and Little nobes, simply about anything and everything. Please readers, if your blogs are in my category, whether you’re a man, a woman, single or happily married I wanna read your blog if it contains a little bit of everything from what you bought at the supermarket to your sexual preferences. It doesn’t really even need to contain sex. I find I’m bored of sex blogs although I have a few I know I will keep reading faithfully.

Good news

In everything that’s happened lately, I’ve completely pushed the good thing out of my mind. It is, ladies and gentlemen, that I have a job! A job! A proper contract. Ok, perhaps it’s not that much to scream about. Everyone gets a job right? Well, it’s just because it gives me more time in the UK for sure, so that I have more time to sort out what will happen at the end of my contract. It’s just an internship, lasting 3 months in the communication office of a Charity helping people with sight loss around the world. I have a suspicion, E’s boyfriend R, who works for this charity had a little say in the matter, because I practically got headhunted for it, no interviews, applications, nothing. Someone had just sent in my CV without me knowing, so I was very surprised when I got the email saying it was mine if I wanted it! And of course, I couldn’t say no! I don’t know anything about it yet though. I don’t know when I start, finish etc, but it’s made me relax!

Apart from getting good news about work, I took part in an event for blind and partially sighted women which were all about presenting yourself. We were split in two groups. My groups dealt with clothing first of all. Each VI girl was pared up with a lady from a significant bank and there were professional consultants there as well who walked around talking to us. My guide was well cool and we even looked slightly alike which was cool since she then could give me some very good tips on make-up for my complexion. We also had the same taste in clothes and a shoe fetish. I must admit I was a little nervous about going to this event. I’ve always cared about the way I look, and have heard many time I’m beautiful and dress well, but still, I almost felt like I was going to be judged on my looks that day. It went well though. This really cool New York girl, who worked with the clothes consultancy people, came over to me and she, my guide and I were talking about the way I dressed, what I liked and what type of work I was going to be doing. I got complimented on my style and Miss NYC and my guide suggested how I could expand a work wardrobe and dress so that it looked professional, fit for going out and sexy at the same time. The consultant company Miss NYC is with, offer to go shopping for free with clients, so she and I are gonna go shopping in central London some time soon! I really can’t wait!

Then it was make-up. I never really wear a lot of make-up. Not because I’m blind, but because my complexion’s good, I tint my eye-lashes and because I’m lazy. A lady from a well known International hair and beauty company did my make-up explaining every step of what she did, the colours she used and how it affected my face. My guide was next to me writing down the names and colours of what was put on my face. This was good quality make-up and I found I really liked having it on. It was also very easy to apply it so I decided to buy some of the things they’d brought so that I didn’t have to go to the salon. When I fall for something, I really want it there and then! But I gather I’m not the only woman like that. It was a great day and it felt a little like being at a day time girly party.

The next day, I spent with a photographer student who’s doing a project on blind people and movements, or something along the lines of that. Basically, VIs going about their day. It was cool even though I hate posing for pictures. We chatted a lot though and after having taken photos of me in my flat, we went to Brixton Market, did a little bit of shopping and had a nice meal. I’ll link his blog here.

When I got home, g came over and we had a long girly rant before she went home and I spent the rest of the night on the phone to Mad. Just as I was going to bed, my neighbour, who has my number because we once were in a forum together, texted me and asked me how the forum went. I said I didn’t know and we texted back and forth till he sent me lots of drunken texts asking me if it was ok if he thought I was lovely and sexy. I replied saying that his thoughts nobody could take from him, but to leave me alone please! I could tell he was drunk from the way the texts were written. I’m gonna ignore it this time, but next time I’ll react a little harder.

Just spending a night in tonight, maybe meeting A, but not sure.

Improvements

I’m not gonna say much about this now, but it looks as if things might improve with me and A. We had a long chat yesterday because I had to tell him KS knows everything about me cheating on him. He came around and asked me questions about it. Well, I knew he sort of knew anyway. He hinted to me for some time that he knew I was seeing somebody. I was honest with him to make myself feel better, but also to prove to A that I am an honest person that confesses my mistakes. I spent six hours up in his flat and although he isn’t all that happy about me telling KS how long it had gone on for etc. but I told him I just couldn’t continue lying to him anymore. That after all KS is a good person who doesn’t deserve that much disrespect. He seemed to get the gist. He also told me his reasons to suspect I had cheated on him with Twin A and I am beginning to understand why he could think that. Twin A knew a lot about me that only people who are close to me do. I don’t know where he got all the info from. I suspect TG gave him some and before I found out a lot of shit about him, I talked to him as well. Not about my inner thoughts and feelings, but I thought he just was a normal guy I could be friends with like so many of my other friends. An even kissed me a few times on my face and lips. I don’t wanna keep my hopes up though. I mean, he said he was gonna go over and talk to KS about stuff today. I made it as if I was to blame for all the cheating, that I was the bad person and a said he’d go and take his part of the blame for it. I also let KS know that a thought I’d been cheating on him with Twin A and I’m not all that keen on the two guys talking today. Anyway. I did something terrible to a good guy and now I’m trying to make it right. I just pray, dear God, it won’t end up in a disaster!

Smells of him

He helped me hang up a courtain yesterday because my door has a window stupidly enough. It has been in his flat and smells of him! I haven’t slept all night and I’m working today!

Crushed!

I haven’t written for almost a week, but I am in shock of what has happened. When I came back, I did meet A, we had dinner at his place in stead of going out and wild wicked sex and lovemaking. The next day I didn’t see him, but spent the time with TG and Twin A. Next day, I get at ext from a saying we need to talk. He tells me he is in a vulnerable state and that he is afraid that I will unintentionally hurt him. He said it wouldn’t work out between us at this point since I wasn’t quite ready for a long term thing, which I am, at least with him. We talked back and forth and then decided to give it a go and that things would fall in to place. Happy with this, I went home. The next day, we were going to see each other and I was going to spend the night there for the first time. He text me Sunday though and said to me it wouldn’t work out again. He said that since I was so close to Twin A, why couldn’t I give that a try? And wished me good luck with it along with confessing Twin A knew it all. I called Twin A and had a go at him for fucking up mine and A’s relationship. Twin A got pissed off with A and they had a long talk that evening. A had then said to Twin a, that he was gonna mend it all with me, so he came and took me to his flat where we made love, had dinner and listened to music all night until I went home instead of spending the night three respecting the fact he wanted to build things up slowly. Then yesterday, thinking it was all well, we talked through what had been said between him and Twin A. It went well at first, but then he said something about not having liked that I commented that him and Twin A had a similar hair style. I didn’t quite see the problem. I don’t get pissed off if someone, even he would tell me G and I for example had the same hairstyle. I smiled a little to which he responded angrily and said I was taking the piss. That my smile proved my guilt about having had an affair with Twin A.

I can’t remember the details after that. Just that I screamed that I hadn’t done it, that I was sorry one tiny facial expression should fuck it all up and then remembering texting him later. I haven’t slept all night. I tried for a bit, but was dreaming that I had him next to me and that I was stroking his hair, so sleeping wasn’t a good idea. I can’t believe this. His mind is fixed on the fact that I’ve cheated on him and I had a long chat with Twin A, who is as pissed off with it as I am. It’s unfair and whatever I say, I can’t prove it. I’m beyond upset!

Dear lord, Help me! Please!

Going back to London

I’m just writing a very quick post to say I’m going back to London today. I’ve had a good time here despite frustrations with parents and others. It’ll be good to come back though. A text me last night and said he’s ordered a table at the Italian restaurant we had our very first date at. Tomorrow is my job interview, so hopefully I’ll have some hot sex and media to report on tomorrow!

blindness part 1

My blindness is not something I write very exclusively about simply because it’s not really very important. It has shaped my identity, but it’s only a small part of what has made me who I am today. I do believe I’ve experienced a few things I otherwise wouldn’t because of it, such as being a youth delegate for Norway in a youth hearing in the EU parliament. I do consider myself to be one of the lucky blindies. I’ve had parents who’ve raised me well swell as mum and dad2. I’ve always played in the streets like other children, I got involved with fights in the school playgrounds and I cycled on my own. Now I am a very ordinary young woman getting drunk, caring about make-up and the way I look, caring about my flat, cleaning, cooking, making love, the list just goes on. The only times I see my blindness as a problem however and the only times I wish I could see is when someone has the nerve to tell me it limits me in any kind of way, which I believe it doesn’t, and when my mum tells me everything which is wrong about me. Let’s take my mum first. I have to prepare mentally a few days before I am about to see her. Mum did raise me well alright, but with her little baby girl being blind, she thinks it’s easier to shape me into her ideal daughter. I know how mum wants me to look. Nice and stylish, but classic. I dress like that most of the time. It suits me and many people tell me I’m fashionable, so I’m not worried about looking weird. Then my hair. It has to be in a certain way, not too short, not too long, not too straight and not too curly. Then my body. Have I put on weight since I last saw her? All this is very stressing, but it’s worth it. The more “perfect” she thinks I look, the less criticism I’m going to receive when I get home. For example, I was comfort eating in my 1st year at uni. I weighed about 60 kg when I got home which isn’t fat, but more than I’d weighed before. The first thing my mum said when she saw me was, “Hi Angel, you’ve been eating lots of good food this year haven’t you?” I remember going to bed that night crying, disappointed in the welcome I received after six months of not seeing each other.

I thought I was well prepared for when I got home this time. I know the lack of exercising hadn’t done me any good in terms of my figure, although I was at least 5 kg less, I think that 12 lb or something, or about 2 stone, than when I came home after 1st year of uni. My hair I thought looked good and it was nice and shiny after the black hair products A has gotten me into using. I made sure it didn’t look greasy and assuming that five different people wouldn’t lie to me, especially not TG who laughs at people looking just a bit stupid. I thought my clothes were ok and I was all settled to go back. “What have you done to your hair?” was the very first thing she asked me. “It looks horribly dirty.” Then both she and dad who’s very over weight, my dad that is, said they noticed I’d put on weight and that I needed the exercise. I was frankly quite hurt. I really didn’t think different people lied to me about my hair, and I also didn’t think A lied to me when he said I have a gorgeous figure. Then, there are little things such as how I do the dishes, how I put them back in, how I lay the table. Things aren’t to mum’s liking. She even critiqued the mooncup. I’m sure she’s gonna try to get me back to using tampons again, but sorry mum, that aint happening! She makes me tired constantly saying these little things. She even tells me how to eat. “Now you can take another bite, now, put the fork down. Sit back and chew. Enjoy the food.” My blindness is caused by my optic nerve being detached from my brain. This means I can’t see any light or darkness. A person with absolutely no perception doesn’t have the advantages of being able to orientate in a room by focusing on sources of light. I use echo location a fair amount plus I have developed quite good mobility skills over the years. Mum however, still likes comparing me to somebody who can see light. “She’s much better orientating than you,” she said once when I had a friend over who had good light perception and who can work out shapes and shadows. I pointed out that the criticism wasn’t fair as she had those advantages and said that she was lucky that I did as well as I did without any fucking perception. She replied by saying, “I know that having light perception gives you some advantage” a reply that frankly made no sense whatsoever.

I’m writing all this now because it’s been bottling up inside me during the time I’ve spent with her. I moaned to Mad, my long lost friend who’s blind too. Like me, she has no light perception. She’s a semi celebrity in Norway. Her dad was a famous jockey when he lived and she lost her sight in a traffic accident. She, like me is very independent. She’s married, has a little girl and a second child on the way. She’s a marvellous cook and keeps her house clean. She could tell me that her mum was exactly like mum. And when she asked her mum: “Look, everyone’s telling me things look clean and nice. I’ve even had compliments on clothes and things in the house. Then you are the only one coming in telling me it’s not good enough. Shall I trust you or them?” Not very well written, but I hope you get the gist. Her mum answers: “Well, I’m your mother and I want the best for you.” This is just like mum and I. I’m just wondering why they are like that. Do they wanna break us in some kind of way? Maybe it’s the mother thing about feeling not needed after kids have grown up and trying to make us depending on them again? I don’t know. I just know it hurts me and it shouldn’t and I should rise above it, but it’s hard.

We watched a documentary last week about Ben Underwood. The Californian teenager with the fine echo location skills. We = mum, dad and I. At first I hated the documentary. Of course the boy was clever. He skated and cycled around just using echo location and not anything like a cane when he was walking around. “Ben has an independence other blind people can only dream of” the comment woman said at least twice. I wanted to get up and punch the screen. Not that that would have helped, the wide screen TV would be broken and my parents would have been fuming. I know that although my echo location skills might not be as fine as Ben’s, they are still pretty good and I can hear trees, cars, walls and lamp posts, but I use a cane which made me feel less able than him. I sat there knowing both mum and dad thinking “Wish our daughter could be like that.” I felt a little better though when Ben’s arrogance finally made him lose track of where he was and he got a blind mobility teacher to train his echo location skills further, but also teach him how to use a cane. At first Ben didn’t want to hear of it and thought he was champion of the world. He behaved like a little bugger until at the end of the documentary he did start to use a cane. It was good to see blindies like me who were some of the worlds most independent and efficient with mobility use a cane and it made me feel slightly better.

Then, the society. They have so many misconceptions and they think it’s ok to talk to me any time of day just because I’m blind. Too tired to write about that now though, so will continue tomorrow. It feels good to write all this down.

Frustration and confusion

I said I loved Norway when it’s glittering white with snow before and at Christmas time. I also love Norway during the summer. In fact in that season, I think Norway is one of the world’s most beautiful countries. I hate it the rest of the year though, like now. It’s supposed to be spring and the flowers are supposed to peak out from the dirty melting snow. The suns supposed to shine and the temperature’s supposed to be above 0. People are supposed to walk around happily smiling to strangers and sit down for the first out door beer. Wrapped in a thick jacket perhaps, but still let the sun caress their face while they sip their cold drink. I wish! Temperature is at least -2 and the roads are so icy you can’t walk without looking like a 90 year old great grandma with a hip problem! The only entertainment is staying inside someone’s house and drink coffee. Alcohol’s too expensive, *I don’t drink during the day anyway and not on a weeknight really) going out to eat is out of the question because it’s too expensive and waiters look at you if you order a cocktail like San Francisco Fling or Singapore Sling. Well, I was out eating yesterday at TGI Fridays where they happen to have these cocktails because the majority of the staff is Aussies. You actually have to speak English in there which is kind of cool. Anyway, having ordered them, the waiter asked how the heck I knew about them as they don’t sell them in Norway. Knowing the recipes though, they made them especially for me and Len since they’re quite popular in Australia. The food’s expensive too. You can’t get a carton of fresh orange juice for less than £1.50! And this is the country I might be moving back to in a few months?

It’s not fair on poor Norway to curse it like this, but the thought of perhaps having to move just makes me depressed. I’m gonna miss the urban city life, the eating out, the cheap drinks and calling drinks in London cheap just goes to show how expensive Norway is. I’m gonna miss my friends, all the shops and foods they don’t have in England and I can’t bare the thought of having to move away from A now that things might be developing in a positive direction. This is all due to me being stubborn though. If only I was the average graduate interested in charity work, accounting or investment banking, but God didn’t want it that way. I want to be a journalist, a full time one and it does look like I have a much better chance of getting that in Norway, at present anyway. I just pray I get the job I’m going in for an interview for on Friday! If nothing else, it gives me another 7 or 8 months to start hating London so much I might just belonging to go back. My Norwegian contacts respect the organization I’m going to get interviewed by on Friday and said that I should take it if I got it as it is longer than the summer contracts I will get here, and because other opportunities inevitably will come up next year. Ah well, I guess all can do is, if I don’t get the job, cross that bridge when it comes to it and as I believed I’ve said before, if it’s meant to be between me and A, it will be sorted out. We might perhaps both go to Norway for a bit and then go back to the UK, or somewhere else. I think it’s just a matter for me to settle in the trade, get my name known to the right people and then opportunities will open elsewhere. I will also be one of the first blind journalists in Norway, something I’m not going to be too keen on as it will be me educating them on how I work. In the UK I know quite a few who have walked the path before me. You might think being the first one would be a challenge I would enjoy. Having perhaps read my blog for a while, you know that I’m not the kind of person to back off from a challenge, but I was the first blind student in all my schools and my university, so I’ve always been their little testing animal If it comes to a point very soon that I have to move back, I’ll probably, over time, while building up yet another network and getting settled in a job etc. learn to appreciate things about Norway.

I had a nice stay at the cottage. It was nice to see our friends again and we were eating, drinking and talking non stop. The mother in the family told us that she’s known Martine Vik Magnussen, the Norwegian student who got killed in London just before Easter. Martine had worked in the same clothes shop as her during the uni holidays and apparently, she’s a lovely girl. Ellen, the mother had a few texts Martine had sent her, such as Merry Christmas etc. that she has decided to keep after her death.

Yesterday it was back on the exercise bike after all that lovely food. I am starting to get happy with my body shape, but I need another month or so to be truly happy. Afterwards, I went to see Len at her ex’s place. I didn’t know he was her ex, so when he told me he’d married a Romanian guy, I got quite shocked. I knew he was bi, so that it was a man didn’t shock me, just the fact that he’d married while I thought him and Len were going out. After that, Len and I headed to TGI’s were we were gonna meet her very sexy Greek cousin, but he didn’t turn up due to damaging his knee while skiing earlier. It wasn’t serious, but he had to get it fixed immediately. We still had a good evening though.

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