Monday, 24 February 2014
Woke up this morning to the alarm ringing and couldn't understand why. The phone alarm has gone wrong - just another minor irritation in the slow breakdown as we get closer to the date they will upgrade me. And then it dawned on my dream addled head - its bloody Monday. That's why the alarm is ringing. Bad luck for you its work today! Whoop.
Posted by Harriet (the fshlady) at 11:41 am
Sunday, 9 February 2014
Long evening of drinking and dancing followed by a night bus journey home.I haven't been on a night bus for some time. And especially an N29.
I was lucky the doors stopped right by me so i got on second and found a seat.
I was sitting opposite a couple of dollybirds who looked a bit worse for wear. Not a coat between them. No tights. Just a thick layer of fake tan keeping them warm. One of them was carrying her extremely high platform shoes rather than wearing them. They were slumped in their seats - one with her back to the other. Hair messed so you could see their extensions sewn in where the outer layer of hair was no longer covering it.
The one nearest the window was softly whining and crying. There were black mascara streaks running down in furrows through her foundation on both cheeks. Fake eyelashes holding large drops of tears. Her sister (it transpired when she turned back to her) said why does it happen every time? You can't live with me anymore, you're a nightmare, go back to Mum, you aren't ready to look after yourself. She then got up and stood by the door ready to get off. At the next stop the doors opened and she shouted at the tear stained one, are you coming or are you just going to sit on the bus? When her sister just managed to get off in time she jumped back on, in the hope to leave her sister stranded on the street.
Some how both girls were still on the bus but without a seat. Tearful one was mumbling to herself how she couldn't fucking cope with it anymore. It wasn't clear whether that meant life in general, her sister, this night in particular or having to stand on the bus (she turned to an older woman at one point asking when she was getting off because she needed to sit fucking down - older woman ignored her with distain). The annoyed sister sat on the floor and at some point kicked out at her sister's ankles whereupon they set about each other in a half hearted manner - punching and kicking. The other passengers looked on in disbelief. Eventually they fell out of the bus at Holloway and wended off into the night. Drunk, disorderly and discordant. Bet they had a horrible Sunday - hungover and arguing, or hungover and ignoring each other, trying to avoid one another in a flat.
Posted by Harriet (the fshlady) at 3:40 am
Friday, 7 February 2014
Recently my nephew (aged 9) got so mad about having to do guitar practice that he packed a bag and stormed up to the front door announcing his intention to leave. He didn't in the end. He packed his bear-suit onsie and his wrestling figures. His dad gave him a toothbrush and some toothpaste to put in. And then his mum cried and said she would miss him if he went. So he stayed. I'm interested in what the important items to take are, in a 9 year old's mind. I dont remember wanting to leave at that age either. My sister recounting the story made me laugh actually. And that made her laugh also. Perhaps i should provide him with a tag with my address and phone number on it so if he really decides to do it he can come to me which would at least be safer.
Posted by Harriet (the fshlady) at 9:00 pm