Don't You Just Hate It When...

You buy the ‘Hair’ soundtrack from Morrisons for £2.99 and it’s only when you get home that you find out it’s “as performed by The Stage Door Orchestra”?

Geeing back doon toon, man, it's reet canny there, like

Alright?

I am off Up North for two weeks on Saturday to help my mum move house. I am travelling first class- how cool is that? You get free tea, coffee and packets of shortbread. And the chairs are nicer. And there's less chance of a madman coming to sit next to you, trying to touch your face and telling you that he is "looking for virgins" and has "about four or five planes".
Yes- first class will be a whole new world.

I am looking forward to my stay in good old NE2. Mainly because I'll get a break from my silly job as a rubbish waitress. No more polishing glasses! No more burning my hands on hot plates! No more being called "hey, girl, hey you girl there"! No more idiot boss telling me off for not pronouncing the T in water! For two weeks.

Yes, it will be nice to get away. A change of scene and all that jazz. On the downside I'll have only my family for company and no internet access. Boo.

I made up a well funny joke:
What do you call a cow that is a philosopher?
Camoooo

I told it to Daniel and he went "What? What? I don't get it. What's Camus?". That's because he is silly and uneducated- not like me.

Anyway- that's all from me for a while. Later daze.

"We're the future, we're the pride"

I don't know if any of you subscribe to Popbitch. Some people do, some people don't. My dad does. He called me today and said "Oh my God Eisor you won't believe what was on Popbitch today".
In the section 'Things That Make You Go Hmm' was the 'Teesside Song' from the early 90s. My dad was heavily involved in producing it and even got his five year old daughter (me) to star in it.

I think you'll agree that I make the song.

OMG it's all different!

I know! I am feeling the new template. I like the red/orange. It's fresh. And that font is pretty kicking too.

We are all going to die

Reading the news ONLINE this morning something catches my eye:

Warning as tick diseases on rise

OMG tick disease? Ewwww.

The public has been warned to take extra precautions against ticks as the warm weather heralds a peak in numbers of the blood-sucking parasites.

I caught head lice when I was eight. It was horrific. Fucking monsters drinking my blood and itching up my head. It put me off parasites for life. I don't want anything more to do with them.

Then I read:
They are common in woodland, heath land and in particular areas in Scotland where deer graze.
Well that's alright then. I don't spend much time in heath land so I am probably not at risk.
More recently they have also been found in urban parks.
Oh God. Not urban parks! I go to those all the time!

So, apparently they pass on Lyme Disease. Didn't Ms Hoover have that in The Simpsons? What is Lyme Disease?
Lyme disease varies widely but can include a rash and flu-like symptoms in its initial stage, followed by the possibility of musculoskeletal, arthritic, neurological, psychiatric and cardiac problems.

Fuck. That's pretty heavy.
Now I am terrified. Of course- I will get this Lyme Disease. I probably already have it. Shit shit shit. They say that it is severely debilitating and can be fatal. SHIT. What have I done to deserve this?
And how rubbish is that- to be killed by a tiny little insect? What a pathetic way to die. I'd rather be burnt at the stake or shot in a gang war.

For everyone else who is as paranoid as me, here's the Bite Prevention Guide:

Wear trousers tucked into socks
Use insect repellent
Check yourself thoroughly
Check warm folds of the skin
Carefully remove with tweezers
Never burn off
Do not try to drown in Vaseline
Be aware of favoured habitats

Do not try to drown in Vaseline? That's pretty strange. But it's lucky that they told me this as it's probably the first thing I'd think of doing. Before setting myself alight.

So, I've done my bit. Tell all your friends about the dangers of ticks.

"I like that song by The Fratellis"
He picks up a glass and polishes it. I do the same.
"That song by The Fratellis, huh?"
"Yeah. You know the one on the ipod advert"
"Would you say that's your favourite song of all time?"
"No"
"No?"
"No. My favourite song is 'Hey Jude' by The Beatles"
"By The Beatles, eh? Not sure I know that one"
"Classic song, man. You should check it out"
"I might just do that. Thanks for the tip!"
"What's your favourite song then?"
"Oh, I don't know. I like anything and everything really"
"Tell you what: I'll make you a CD"
"A CD?"
"Yeah, a mixed CD. Put some classic tunes on there for you, educate you in the ways of music"
"Well that would be super. Thanks, man"
"No worries. Pass me another glass"
"Sure"

I work with idiots.

Last night I worked at the McLaren Test Centre in Woking.
They were launching a new car, priced at about £450,000.
There were lots of insanely rich people there. Draped in gold and silk. Smoking cigars and eating cheese.
They were all getting in the car and making the roof go up and down. Laughing hysterically. I stood watching, waiting for them to go home so I could clear up.
My New Best Friend Leon came over to stand with me. He handed me a chocolate truffle he'd stolen from the kitchen. I thanked him.
"Makes you sick doesn't it?" I said
"What?"
"They've got more money to spend on one car than we'll ever have in our lifetime"
"Oh well. At least we get to spit in their soup"
"That's true"


Been working most of the week. It's tiring. I had today off so I drank a lot of tea and watched Shipwrecked. Working again tomorrow. What have I become?

I know, I was shocked too

Would you believe me if I told you that I have been offered a place at university to study English Literature? Me with my four GCSES and a BTEC in performing arts?
No, you wouldn't believe me. You'd think I was lying (again).
But no! It's actually true!

I am more than a little surprised. I don't actually believe it. I never thought I was clever enough. But maybe I am! Maybe I just never realised! I might be a genius for all I know.

So, I got an UNCONDITIONAL offer from University of Westminster. It isn't the best university in the world but it's better than West Thames or whatever it's called. I went there for an open day a few months ago and it looked pretty fly actually.

So it looks like I'll be staying in London for a few more years. That's alright though, I quite like it here.

Ah... It's nice to get good news.

I Had You Under My Skin But Now You've Gone and I've Got a Big Plaster on My Face and it Looks Really Stupid

Well. Well, well, well.
I am no longer Cyst Face Smada.
Now I am Eisor Eisor Plaster Face.
Want to see a picture?


As you can see my plaster is 'skin colour'. But, unfortunately, not my skin colour. Someone else's. Oh well, I only have to wear it for A WHOLE WEEK.

I already found my celebrity lookalike:



Yes. Nelly. That's cool.

As a tribute, I took a picture of me looking a bit more street:



Ignore the Care Bear posters in the background, they are not in keeping with my new image.

The surgery was traumatic. I was stabbed repeatedly with a comedy sized needle (unbelievably painful) and then cut to ribbons (loudly) with a knife. I say loudly because I couldn't feel or see anything, only hear. And what I heard made me want to projectile vomit all over my self. But anyway, it's over now.

Oh, and I am scarred for life. They forgot to mention that until 30 seconds before the knife was pulled. Yes, a lifelong scar. Cool beans.

"Mouthwash gives me the confidence I need to face the world each morning. Without it I'd just sit in my house crying and slicing myself with knives"

"How does mouthwash make you feel, emotionally?"
My evening was full of questions like this. Because this evening I did some market research thing.
Me and four other girls aged between 16 and 20. We sat in a tiny room with a massive mirror on the wall and microphones hanging from the celling and 'discussed' mouthwash. It was very, very dull.
We talked about what we look for in a mouthwash. We talked about what the best flavours of mouthwash were. We looked at some bottles of mouthwash and commented on their design. We talked about what the ideal mouthwash would be. For hours and hours.
Near the end, the man who was asking the questions leaned in and said "What would you say if I told you that you could buy mouthwash and toothpaste... combined?"
"You must be kidding me, that would be a dream come true!" I cried.
He gave me a nasty look, like I was taking the piss or something. Which, to be fair, I was.

Well I got £60 for my trouble. So I took a walk down to Borders on Oxford Street and bought two Bukowski books: Factotum and Ham on Rye. Brill.

Don't forget to tune in on Thursday to hear all about my surgery and hopefully see some pictures of me with a huge bandage on my face.

More rejection, plastic surgery and licky mental patients

Here is what has been happening:

I have been rejected from 4 of 5 of the universities I applied to. This sucks pretty hard.
But! University of Westminster got in touch and requested a portfolio. I've spent the past 48 hours trying really hard to write really good things. I am semi-pleased with the results. I will send it all off to them in the post tomorrow morning and hope for the best. It's all I can do.

I am getting surgery on my face!
About a year ago this cyst appeared on the right side of my face, on my cheek. It's not that big but it is noticeable. I hate it. Anyway, the doctor is going to cut it out, on the 1st of March. It counts as 'plastic surgery' which is pretty funny. Hopefully I'll have a cool scar.

Well, I can't be bothered to write anymore. I just had a midnight bath and it's made me very sleepy. So I'll just copy and paste this:

The Ghost Story

We had just moved into a new flat. The walls were bare and you couldn’t move for boxes. It was late at night and the rest of the family were asleep. My younger brother and I were still awake, on our respective bunks reading by torchlight. “Tell me a ghost story” he said.
“Okay. There was this woman, this really old woman, really old”
“Older than Grandma?”
“Oh yeah, older than Grandma for sure. She lived in a cottage in the countryside, alone with her pet dog”
“Like Grandma’s dog?”
“Yeah, a bit like Grandma's dog. Anyway, the old woman loved the dog more than anything, it was her best friend”
“That’s a bit sad”
“Yeah. Anyway, every night the woman and the dog did the same thing. The woman would turn off the light and go to sleep and the dog would lie on the floor right next to her bed. And if the woman had a bad dream in the middle of the night, she’d put her hand down to the floor and the dog would lick it to stop her feeling scared. Then the woman would just go straight back to sleep”
“That’s nice”
“Yeah. So, one night the woman was listening to the radio and she heard about this escaped mental patient on the loose, attacking old women who lived alone in the countryside”
“Oh God”
“So this shook her up a bit, obviously. She found it hard to get to sleep and when she did sleep she had horrible dreams. After one of the said horrible dreams, she put her hand down by the bed and the dog licked it, making her feel better”
“I wish I had a dog like that”
“Who doesn’t? So the dog was licking her hand and the woman turned her head the other way, so she could see into the next room. The dog was in there, lying by the fireplace. And something was still licking her hand! The end”
My brother leaned over the top bunk and asked:
“How could the dog be licking her hand if it’s in the next room?”
“It wasn’t the dog licking her hand”
“Then what was it?”
“The escaped mental patient”
“So who was in the next room?”
“The dog”
“But, I thought the dog always lay by the bed incase the woman had a bad dream”
Well… yeah. But the mental patient probably pushed it out of the way”
“Wouldn’t the dog bark and make a lot of noise if that happened?”
“No”
“And, wouldn’t it put up a bit of a fight, dogs are very loyal to their owners”
“When did you become such a dog expert, Cai?”
“It’s common knowledge. The dog wouldn’t just go and lie in the other room without a sound”
“Well, this one did”
“And why was the escaped mental patient just licking the woman’s hand? Why hadn’t he attacked her already?”
“Because that’s not scary, just killing her outright”
“What, so he does kill her?”
“Maybe…”
“Why didn’t you finish the story then?”
“I did. That’s the end”
“But he was just licking her hand. How scary is that?”
“Jesus! I don’t need to say “and then he killed her”, you’d think that would be obvious”
“But when the woman was listening to the radio she heard that women were being attacked, not killed necessarily”
“Look, that is where the story ends and you are supposed to decide what happens after. It’s scarier that way, imagining all the awful things that could take place”
“Well, I don’t think he killed her, he didn’t kill the others”
“Okay, fine”
I turned off my torch and settled down to sleep, above me my brother did the same. I waited until he was drifting off, stood up and licked his right hand.
He screamed the place down.

Dream

Last night I dreamed that I fell in love with someone who was half man, half wolf.

He had hairy hands with claws instead of fingernails.

He was embarrassed about being half wolf, he said he hated it. I told him that I thought it was cool. He thought I was just being nice but I wasn't. I meant it.

I kissed his hands and he smiled. We listened to Indigo Girls and ate goat's cheese.

I asked him if he'd rather:
Never hear any of his favourite music ever again
Or
Hear his favourite music, but it would always be so quiet that you could hardly make out what song was on

He said he'd rather never hear the music again. I am still not sure if this was the right or wrong answer.

I went to the toilet and when I came back he'd gone. He left a note though, saying he was sorry, he had to go but he'd be back soon. He had extremely impressive handwriting (even in dreams I am excited by good handwriting since mine is so terrible).

I woke up before he got back. This pissed me off, big style. How unfair, I meet an awesome wolf man but then I wake up before anything good can happen. Typical.

I miss my dream wolf man.

No, No, No

Manchester has rejected me. Oh, the pain.
On the up side, Manchester is a shit hole. I used to live there. It just rains all the time and everyone is miserable. I don't want to live there again. I am GLAD they rejected me without even an interview. Yeah, they've done me a favour for sure.
Owch, owch it hurts! How could you do this to me Sara Delaney, Admissions Manager?

Let's keep our hopes up for:
East Anglia
Royal Holloway
Westminster
Northumbria

Send out positive thoughts for me, please.

A funny thing happened on the way to the Jobcentre!

A partly fictional but mostly completely true story.

So, I was walking down the street today.

I walking down the street listening to Alien Ant Farm, wearing my huge hoodie, Japanese t-shirt and mega hip 5 years ago trainers with multicoloured laces. I'd just bought 'The Wasp Factory' (which I expect to be a laugh riot) and 'Hardboiled Wonderland and The End of the World' from Oxfam (my local Oxfam always has a brilliant selection of books, and for cheap too). I was high fiving and head-banging my way down the high street. Rocking it, quite frankly.

When all of a sudden!!!

Something happened!!!

A police car pulled up beside me and some police men got out of it. One of them wrestled me to the ground while the other kicked me in the face repeatedly. "What seems to be the problem, officers?" I asked. "We have reason to believe you are carrying crack cocaine on your person" Officer Wrestle replied. Officer Kicker kicked me some more.
"You must be mistaken" I cried, choking on my own blood (and teeth) "You have me confused with someone else, that man over there perhaps, he looks a bit foreign and therefore guilty".
"No, we are not mistaken" replied Officer Wrestle "You are certainly the guilty one". Officer Kicker bent down and licked my bloody face. "You certainly taste guilty" he sneered.
"I don't know anything about any crack cocaine" I sobbed "I've never even heard of it, what is it?"
"Eisor Smada, you have the right to remain silent but anything you do say etc etc" he said as he pulled me off the ground.
"No! Don't put me in that car! I am innocent, innocent God damn it!"
"No one's putting anyone in any car just yet" said Officer Kicker. "First we'll strip search you"
They proceeded to strip search me in the middle of the high street, outside Clinton Cards. When they realised I actually didn't have any crack cocaine they got a bit red faced and shuffly. "Well, sorry about that Miss Smada" Said Office Wrestle "You are free to go".
"I must admit I am a little vexed by this whole charade" I said, putting my clothes back on, moodily.
"I feel really bad about this mix up" said Office Kicker. "Look, let me give you my police badge. Think of it as a peace offering".
"For real? To keep? Wow! You guys are the best!" I said, flashing them a black, gappy smile.
They waved goodbye and got back in the car.

Feeling a little dizzy, I carried down the road, whistling the theme to the Italian Job. I didn't notice the screams of "Oh dear God!" and "Mommy, what happened to that lady's face?". Because I had just got myself a genuine police badge.

Did you notice the bit of fiction I threw in? It was pretty obvious. Yeah, like I'd be caught dead listening to Alien Ant Farm!

Oh, I do have a larf with myself. And only myself.

Snow Day

My phone rings at 7am, waking me from a quality dream.
"Look outside" you whisper
"What? Who? What time is it? Go back to bed"
"Look outside"
I get out of bed and stagger to the window, phone in hand



"It's snowing" I say
"Would you like to come to the park and play in the snow with me?" you ask
"Yes please" I reply

I dress quickly and brush my teeth. I dig out a pair of gloves and a scarf from the cupboard and leave the house.
It's about an hour before sunrise. Everything looks blue, clean, alien. The sound of my shoes against the ground brings back memories from my childhood, back when it used to snow every winter and we'd spend days off school sledging down hills and stuffing snowballs down each-other's coats. I love snow.

I assume that the tubes won't be running so I take the bus. The commuters are grumbling, the "fucking snow" has made them late. These people have forgotten what really matters. I bounce up and down in my seat and strain to see out of the steamed up windows.
We roll down the high street past boarded up buildings, smashed up telephone boxes, Poundland. Usually a soul-crushingly ugly and dead place, the high street is now alive, beautiful, magic. I wipe tears from my eyes and dial your number. You pick up after one ring.
"I'm on the bus, almost there" I say "where shall I meet you?"
"Don't worry about that, I'll find you"
"No, come on, where?"
You hang up.

We come to my stop and I wave goodbye to all the passengers. Only an old drunk waves back. I jump off and walk through the park gates.

The park is empty apart from a few dog walkers. I can't see you anywhere. I sit down on a bench and wait.
A snowball hurtles past me, smashing against the bench. I stand up and turn around. The next one hits me square in the face.
I duck, narrowly escaping another blow to the head. I hear you running up behind me. I swivel round and you jump on top of me knocking me to the floor. Your cheeks are pink and your eyes wild. I haven't seen you in weeks.
"Hello" I say
"Did I surprise you?"
"No"
"Yes I did"
"Okay, yes you did"
"Close your eyes"
I close my eyes. You put your face right up close to mine, so that the tips of our noses are touching. I can smell your mouthwash. I am expecting you to kiss me but instead you shove snow down the front of my jumper. It's colder than anything. I open my eyes and grab a handful of snow. You run off, laughing and I chase after you.


"Everything looks so much nicer with snow on it, don't you think?" I say, lying next to you on the ground, soaking wet and shivering
"It will all be gone soon"
"You thought that all would last forever
But like the weather
Nothing can ever stay gold"
"That's the theme to 'The Outsiders'"
"I know"
You lean over and kiss me on the forehead. I find your hand and hold it.
"Let's move to Greenland"
"Okay, when?"
"When all the snow has melted"
"Okay"
"As soon as it's all gone we'll go"
"Okay"
"We'll jump on a plane and be there in no time. We'll buy a little house in the woods with shutters on the windows and a stable door. We'll get a husky dog and a goldfish. And we'll spend every day playing in the snow. Every day will be a perfect one, like today"
"Okay. Let's stay right here and wait for the snow to melt so we can go"
"Okay"

And we wait.