Billygean.co.uk

Compulsive Reading

Nov 27

Transfering my addictions

by billygean

Okay, I admit it, I had a hard time cutting out coffee last week. I spent rather a long time smelling the jars and moodily ordering herbal teas in between lectures. And well – I just couldn’t take it, so it lasted about 13 hours.

This week, I decided to go the whole hog. I have a generally-dodgy stomach, courtesy of my father who also gave me wild hair and bunions (didn’t I do well?) so I decided to quit dairy having heard wonders about it.

Dairy, of course, includes caffeine.

It also includes chocolate. But not eggs, I learnt.

Me: Eggs so are dairy.

Mike: [smiling. Probably because he knew what was coming] No, they’re not.

Me: But they come from co-.

Mike: There it is.

Day one saw me eating a baked potato – no butter, cheese or anything interesting – with tuna. It was so dry, I couldn’t chew it. Incidentally this reminds of a meat-eating-at-Mike’s-house story I must tell you all about at some point – do remind me if I forget.

It did get better though. I have rediscovered pasta and Dolmio. And also vegetables. I have been snacking on muesli bars, Parma Violets and Skittles. Soy milk is quite nice. As are soy yoghurts and, also, my healthy fruit of choice, glacé cherries.

The fact that I’m not giving up caffeine directly has had a good psychological effect on me. Because I am giving up dairy, I can choose to have coffee with soy milk. The fact that this makes it taste like aeroplane coffee with a SKIN ON TOP makes me not want coffee. This choice is better than army-like ban on coffee, therefore no headaches so far (which does rather worryingly make me feel I imagined them). I haven’t even had hot juice. Having a perpetual cold has made Lemsip soothers (for warm bellies on cold nights) my drink of choice.

So by this weekend I was feeling rather healthy. No dairy for a week. No coffee. Only one minor Thorntons slip.

This morning I made myself my Lemsip even though my cold symptoms had long gone. Must be habit, I thought, idly reading the box.

Contains caffeine.

Oh, bollocks.

addictions NaBloPoMo

4 Comments »
Nov 26

Attention Seeking

by billygean

Tonight Mike, my Dad and I journeyed to sister and New Husband‘s house. Mostly to see the cats – named Merry and Pippin by the way, despite their being FEMALE non-hobbits – and also for the roast dinner.

Typically, I smushed the first cat I saw, pressing my face into its fur proclaiming I loved it. The cat was rather wide-eyed and all limbs as it scrambled out of my arms.

I approach the other one more timidly. I found her in Suzy and New Husband’s room, in a drawer with her head on a jumper. I stroked her teeny tiny head and she spent around 20 minutes gazing. Not the sharpest cat I’ve ever met. Eventually I couldn’t resist and picked her up. So she fled out of the room.

I went downstairs to find Mike playing with the other cat. They have this odd pink man on elastic toy and mike was bouncing it all around. The cat was back-flipping and narrowly missing red wine whilst Mike was shrieking.

After dinner Pippin skulked over and tapped Mike’s knee with her paw. Within seconds she had nestled her head up by his neck and was kneading his jumper. I melted.

“How come they always love you?” I said to Mike.

“Because I’m not in their face,” he said, smiling.

“Oh she’s soo cute,” I said, just as she stood up and attention-seekingly flopped on his knee.

“Yes,” Mike said, frowning as Pippin pushed her face into his. “She’s exactly like you.”

cats NaBloPoMo

1 Comment »
Nov 26

Paved Paradise

by billygean

I just found this photo whilst perusing a friend’s flickr:

It’s weird, the frisson you feel when you stare at a younger you.

I’ve found that since I was about 12 when I felt I became an adult, I’ve been surprised when I’ve changed, because I thought I’d established my identity. I felt it physically too; I no longer needed to buy clothes because they were too small but because I’d worn holes in them.

The guy on the left, in the white, in that photo is my ex-boyfriend. I went out with him for 2 weeks and 6 days and ended it – for Very Bad reasons not best to put on my website – in an underpass. It felt like the biggest event in the world, that night, that I had the power to upset someone that much and it was perfectly acceptable to walk away and let them get on with the heartache. The alcohol and cigarettes tasted bitter in my mouth as I walked home, head-bent.

I remember I had bought a white dress for that leavers’ party. It was backless and even came with a special bra. Not that I needed a bra, let’s face it. At the last minute I took it back, because I felt everybody would stare. How different that is to how I am now; I don’t care what people think, I think it’s okay to have a sexual identity and a backless bra if you need one.

The panic I felt on nights like this seems so manageable now. It’s so focused, like a needle-point. There was no need to avoid White Jacket Man, and sit for moments outside red-faced and anxious. No need to clutch my bag by my side and stare across the room at him.

Now, problems sometimes seem so vast I don’t know where to start. The feelings that I have for some people run so deep that there are a million ‘best things to do’ and no real answer. Or the problems are sewn in to other problems, whose roots run too deep to touch. I wonder what adults do when they realise they have deep-set complexes they knew nothing about? Or when they realise they’re horribly jealous, or overly critical? And I know the decisions I make so casually now, sure, you take that job, no, it’s fine if we live apart, affect the rest of my life in a way I can’t grasp now.

I miss that white dress, I think it told me a lot.

NaBloPoMo reminiscing

25 Comments »
Nov 25

Good deeds

by billygean

Ah, well that didn’t last long. Housemate needed car, specifically a polo. Gave car away (housemate will pay sister).

Feeling quite good and charitable though. Hope she knows she has to drive me everywhere.

NaBloPoMo

4 Comments »
Nov 24

But I did get a commendation on contract law today

by billygean

“I’m turning a bit thick,” I say to Mike, propping myself up on the pillows. “Earlier I was on my friend’s profile thingy and spent ages wondering why she was so into the Maritime club. Turns out it was marmite.”

Mike laughs. “At least you know what maritime means now.”

“True,” I say. “I know all about boats now. Bill of lading, banker’s commercial cred-”

“Right,” Mike says, in his bored-law voice.

“I still don’t actually know why there’s a boat court though. Cat doesn’t either. We wondered what was actually shipped.”

“You really have a problem with this, don’t you?” Mike says, staring at me.

“Well, isn’t everything flown now?”

Mike’s eyes widen. “Er, no. Nothing is.”

“What!” I admit, I am squawking. “What about vegetables?”

“Shipped.”

“Books?”

“Shipped.”

“Toys?”

“Shipped. Remember furbies?” He says. I nod. I had two afterall. “They’re shipped.”

“Are cats, then?”

Mike looks slightly worried about my classification of animals. “Er, I don’t know actually. Basically you have a dock -”

“A what?” I say.

“Oh God. A dock. A port. Accept it. And people unload the good there and send it off in those big train carriages you see.”

“Ooh ooh, the cargon carriers?” I say.

“Cargo, yes. The box ones.”

“I’ve never seen those. Only the ones without lids and they’re carrying rubble, not furbies or vegetables.”

“Well, I’ll show you one next time we’re in New Street.”

I think for a while.

“How big are these ships?” I say.

“Very long and flat. Because of Archimedes’ principle – do you remember that from a-level?”

“Yes.”

“Well that means a lot of the boat has to be under the sea.”

“Like on those plaque adverts?”

“Yes.”

“And people on these cruise boat thingies sit there shipping vegetables that turn up in our ports?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re telling me,” I say. “That there are people working at docks that I never seen unloading these goods that I think are flown, on really big boats I’ve never seen, on trains I’ve never heard of.”

“You are really, really thick sometimes.”

blonde moments NaBloPoMo

2 Comments »
Nov 23

How to tell when my period is due

by billygean

Mike: Billygean, I have some bad news.

Me: What. WHAT.

Mike: Charlie died.

Me: Your rabbit Charlie?

Mike: Yes. [sees expression]. Aw darling.

Me: [Uncontrollable sobs]

How to NaBloPoMo

No Comments »
Nov 21

Wherein I demonstrate that all these advertising campaigns are aimed at, and work on, me

by billygean

“What’ve you got there?” Mike said, walking into the kitchen and putting his arms around my waist.

“Mmmm hot toddies,” I said, non-sensically, because I am essaying, and also, panicking about being left alone.

“What is it though?” he said, peering. Well, it was bright purple.

“Lemsip.” I consult the box. “For warm bellies on cold nights.”

Mike laughed. “I thought it was for colds,”

“Yes, mostly for colds.”

“It seems to indicate it’s for cold belly disorder.”

“It’s definitely just bog-standard cold medicine,” I said, not wanting to admit it was making me feel better because of the warm-belly spiel. I will not succumb to advertising.

“Billygean’s colds, maybe.”

NaBloPoMo

No Comments »
Nov 19

Alone in a big, scary city

by billygean

Well, it’s surfaced that there are no engineering jobs in Birmingham.

Why is this relevant, you ask?

Because Mike’s got an interview for an engineering job.

I am pleased for him. In fact, I flitted around him excitedly whilst he sent the application off.

Of course, this will render me homeless, because my other four housemates are all moving away.

Oh, and every single girl on my course is too.

So, looks like I will be living my dream in a box outside Woolworths, or housesharing with potential stalkers and pyromaniacs.

Glad I had that coffee.

NaBloPoMo

3 Comments »
Nov 7

The hair

by billygean

This morning we had words. This is it on Saturday night; when it was a good idea.

(Fussy I did originally write this yesterday but blogger wouldn’t play. Therefore I have not violated NaBloPoMo rules)

NaBloPoMo

3 Comments »
Nov 5

Posting daily is hard work

by billygean

“What colour do you think those bits were?” I said, indicating the underbelly of the Centro train.

“Probably black or silver,” Mike said.

“How do they get more black?”

“With muck, and oil.”

“Oil?”

“Yes, it’s there to lubricate all the parts.”

“The pistons?” I said.

“Yes.”

I felt my face heat up. “You told me that was TREACLE that lubrated those.”

Mike smiled. “Well, I was using analogies.”

“You KNOW they never work on me. I only ever end up understanding the analogy.”

I paused.

“So there’s no treacle?”

“No. It’s oil.”

“And a koala doesn’t really hold up a lift to make sure it doesn’t drop?”

“No.”

NaBloPoMo

8 Comments »
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