Twat.

In terms of weather, age, and common sense, exactly how appropriate is it to dress like an oblivious teenager today?? As in, I'm wearing sandals for starters. Then a She-Ra t shirt I've had about 8 years and may be a bit tiny. Big red cardy. Peachy/tangerine sort of  coloured leopard print jeans. Cherry earrings. Messy bun. Granny geggs. Oh god, I just realised I look like a twat don't I?

Crazy Internet Stalker girl rides again.

I just stalked him a bit more, on Twitter, as he'd sent me a link to his website which connects to his Twitter. (I have no excuse.) Well, turns out the muppet does indeed have a Missus. I feel vindicated in my stalky ways! Huzzah!

Obviously.

Do you want to hear a dead funny story? Honestly, it's hilarious. I am genuinely mortified with myself, so will publicly shame myself for your amusement...

You know that girl who stalks people online, being all bothersome and a teeny bit scary. This girl is insecure, neurotic, ceaseless, insistent, and potentially unhinged. She makes you wana run and hide behind your mothers legs, or go to the pub (in some distant unknown town) and get so pissed you forget you're alive, with your phone off and your laptop wrapped in bags, blankets, and a suitcase, in the attic. With email notifications turned off.

I have become that girl. I shit you not.

I just spent an hour on the phone to my friend talking about her robot class - she is an electrical engineer - and normal life mostly, but we did venture onto the topic of my recent crazy. She wants me to shoot myself. I insisted she come do it for me ASAP 'cos I don't have any weapons in the house. (And knowing her, she probably has something illegal or at least potentially very dangerous stashed under her bed. Or even just on the kitchen table.)
Anyway, I digress. Allow me to tell you a tale, but please bear in mind that this is not my usual pattern of behaviour. I am aware that this is like when you say to somebody that you're worried about their drink problem, then no matter what they say about their drink problem or lack thereof they will sound like they have a drink problem. No matter how much I now insist that I am not a crazy internet stalker girl I will sound like a crazy internet stalker girl. Just the fact that I am writing this, insisting that I am not usually a crazy internet stalker girl makes me sound like that is exactly what I am. 

So, for a week or so I had been consistently chatting to this guy online. Let us call him 'Bob'. Bob is smart, fun, hilarious, chatty, sweet, seemed normal enough, and pretty cute. All good. And we got on so well... So obviously I ruined this potential romance or whatever, almost immediately, without even meeting the guy. Makes sense right? Here is the jist: We're getting along splendidly, then Thursday night I decide to type his name into Facebook (as you do.) A profile pops up and immediately obvious on his friends box, before you even click on a friends list or anything, is a picture of a girl with what appears to be Bob. Ok, I think, that's interesting, just click... on... the... FATAL mistake. My mind was screaming 'DON'T DO IT KAT. STEP AWAY FROM THE LAPTOP, TAKE YOUR FINGER OFF THE BUTTON. DO NOT CLICK ON THE GIRLS PROFILE!' And yet of course I do. Now, I know this guy to be fairly recently single. So this girl has him on her profile pic, maybe she still loves him, maybe she just hasn't changed her profile pic, maybe they're still best friends, I don't know.
So the next morning, after a sleepless night of being poorly, worrying about my dear old Ma, sitting up with my kittens at least 5 times as they were both nervous wrecks for various reasons, and generally being dead on my feet and emotionally drained and agitated, obviously I decided it was sensible to message him and tell him of my findings. ARGH! WTF is wrong with me?!
Now, with hindsight, the message does not read as I intended it to. I wanted to admit to my 'Facebook Investigation' and clarify that I didn't want to step on any toes, cause, or be involved in, any drama. But obviously I made it sound like I was accusing him of being a lieing cheat. (God, he could be, who knows really. We find these things out after the event. For now I was trying to work out whether it was worth continuing this flirtation without potentially becoming a home wrecker.)
He was actually quite hurt and disappointed, obviously, and I was annoyed at myself for my poor communication skills and such.
This is all pretty upsetting and horrible. Bad enough that I have Facebook stalked him, then admitted to it, then freaked the poor guy right out, I now continue my crazed mission by sending him another message trying to clarify my original point. He does not read the messages (I know 'cos they say 'D' for 'delivered' and 'R' for 'read'. These only said 'D'. Clever me.) So I send him a message on the dating site we had 'met' on, saying 'Please check your inbox, I sent you a big long message'!!!! ARGH. I need help. But it doesn't stop here... oh no.
Last night, evening time, tired and upset I f*cking email him saying 'please check your messages on those other 2 things, I wanted to explain. This is a summary of my message trying to explain...'
SHOOT ME NOW.
OBVIOUSLY at this point I know I am turning into crazy internet stalker girl. So I go spend the evening with the girls and explain my crazy stalker girl shenanigans. They berate me and tell me to let it drop. I intend to. Then at silly o'clock this morning he replies with a succinct message about how this had made him feel, which was not good basically.
So at 4am, after one and a half bottles of wine and 2 whiskeys, I bloody well emailed him back! OBVIOUSLY.
Not happy with freaking him out and scaring him off I then tell him I really like him, and just to read his emails and listen to my explanation.

Haven't heard back like.

A bottle and a half of wine... and some whiskey.

Tonight was a much needed girly night. We drank wine, talked about boys, discussed the pitfalls of facebook stalking...

So, firstly, may I just say, we have decide that 'One for All, and All for One'. Women stand together. We decided tonight, T. S. and I that we are possibly, sadly, destined to be together forever.
T. is 'too perfect' (Read: Laid back) as a girlfriend.
S. is probably looking at the wrong people. (Aren't we all, at some time?!)
I am perhaps both... When I get to that point! (Which is rare nowadays.)
So if you're a drama queen, high maintenance, mean, angry or horrible, you're knackered. Obviously.
If you're forgiving, understanding, relaxed and kind, you're dull.
And of course, any neurosis is bad.
Any combination of the above is particularly unpreferable. (Is that a real word?!)
Marvellous.

  So, amongst our male friends we have discovered that of the nicer ones (who clearly we aren't attracted to or we'd have gone for it by now)  some are f*ckwits, dimwits, alcoholics, losers and muppets. Also, some of them apparently look too tanned and want to be members of JLS. Some sound to us like monkeys banging cymbals. Some are a four letter word beginning with C which I shall refrain from! So if we don't look further afield, we're buggered.
 
(But let's be fair, I'm not just going to be a bitch, mocking the boys. Us girls aren't perfect either. I myself have freaked out and frightened off a perfectly lovely guy as I was convinced he must be 'too good to be true'. An hour of insecurity was all it took. I facebook stalked him, did the 2+2=5, and decided to be overly cautious, eliminating any chance of us 'going for it'.)
 
Why is it so bloody complicated eh?! Why can't boy meet girl, girl likes boy, boy likes girl, they kiss, fight a bit, (but not too much), get on, settle down, snog and snuggle forever?! The reality is, we are all far too focused on our insecurities, life, worries, mis-haps, problems, headf*cks and past misdemeanors, and at some point this will creep in... hopefully at a point when it can be discussed, neutralised and forgotten.
 In actuality, what will probably happen is that in the first 2 weeks, years, whatever, we go 'Argh! This is mental this is! I'm not sure I can wrap my tiny little brain around liking this person/this person liking me so much! F****ck!'
Aaaand then it all implodes. Sometimes 'cos one person can't be arsed to make the effort, sometimes 'cos both can't, sometimes 'cos one person is crazy, maybe one of 'em is doin' too much internet stalking...
There are many reasons.
  So, it would seem that we are happier in our own little worlds, miles apart, listening to 'Take That And Party' (or Abba, or Kings Of Leon, or The Beatles, you get the point) talking about the opposite sex, waiting on emails/texts/calls from our respective interest.
  Why on EARTH don't we just communicate?! Say 'Oy! You! I like you! Wana get together?!' Or 'Oy! You! Wana stay together?!' or 'Oy! You?! Do you even like me?!' instead of worrying, thinking, talking, over analysing...? Which is exactamundo what I have just done.

Learn from me kids. Stop talking. Start listening. Bon nuit.

Pie.

'Crying along to sad songs on the radio. Think I'm emotional, exhausted and overwrought.'

That was my status update on facebook just now. This week has been just a tad too much for my mangled little brain to handle. My mam has had cancer removed (hopefully), along with half her lung. My eldest was threatened with being raped by some juvenile reprobates, and consequently there have been many phone calls and emails and such back and forth to her school, Dad, etc. My youngest is stressed as her little sister is poorly in hospital, so she's spent the week being tearful moany and needy. I have Labyrinthitis so pretty much constantly feel sick, dizzy and drunk - not in the good way. I can't sleep for more than 4 hours in 24 and so look like a cross between Emperor Palpatine (if he was on a come down with a hangover) and a Fraggle who was just abused (and not in a good way.) And I've probably frightened off a very lovely boy by trying to over analyse a situation. I want to take my daughters place and be tearful moany and needy, demanding cuddles and wailing at the radio.... oh, I just did that! Seriously, actually crying into my hands listening to 'Hey There Delilah'... What the hell has become of me?! I need sleep, a new brain, a new body, possibly some wine, and a cuddle would be lovely.

My friend just told me she's making steak pie tomorrow and then going to see 'Taken 2', and I'm invited. That may make me feel a tiny bit better. 

*Apologies for the pitiful self obsessed whine. Usual service will now resume.*

Jeremy Kyle Nation.

So, I was gona ramble about school parents evenings, but that can wait. First I want to talk about the fact that children nowadays, some of them, are horrible, vile little critters. This morning I have been on the phone to Eldest Kittens school, as 2 or 3 boys from school followed her and her friend last night threatening to rape her. These boys are 11, maybe 12 years old. They threatened to rape a young girl and said she 'owed them a blow job at least'. (They then described this in detail, but thankfully - small mercies - they actually didn't know what this was, contrary to their beliefs. They, hilariously, told her that if she wouldn't give them a blowjob then they would do it to her. Wow.)
These little terrors also said they had condoms in their pockets ready (and as Kitten pointed out to me, at least if they really were going to do something, they were going to do so safely.) They threatened to pull her into the nearby bushes or into a field. Worst of all, they knew where she and her accompanying friend live as another friend had (unmaliciously) told these boys where her friends houses were, and so they told the 2 girls their home addresses and threatened to find them at home and rape them there. Understandably, my poor daughter and her friend were horrified, scared and upset.
Thankfully, Kitten smacked 'em round the heed with her P.E bag and told 'em to 'Fuck Off'! (She tearfully admitted this while making salad with me last night. I told her that while swearing was nothing to be proud of I didn't blame her at all, and would have done the same in this position. In fact i would probably have used an even larger repertoire of four letter words.)
 Her school are taking this seriously and are taking measures. Kittens Dad is understandably furious. I am mostly gobsmacked and worried about Kitten.

God, seriously, what the fuck is happening to the world when 11 year old kids are threatening or being threatened with rape?! When I were a kid of that age I was galloping around on my imaginary pony, boys might chuck 'itchy backs' down your top if you annoyed them, and at school discos the thought of slow dancing with a boy was enough to cause apoplexy. (I'm pretty sure boys felt this same fear. I can be no judge of this because I'm not a boy, and the first boy I slow danced with was the first in a succession of gay boyfriends so he was probably terrified for very different reasons.)

Seriously though, it is bad enough when a man threatens a woman (joking or otherwise, though I really think the threat of rape can never actually be a light hearted mockery.) But when children are threatening children with the most violant and controlling thing you can do to a woman, and using explicit sexual language (even if the terminology is slightly incorrect) then the world is a very sad place. Children in my youngest Kittens primary school aged about 10/11, joke about teabagging. I am pretty sure they are unaware of it's meaning but it's still a little disturbing. And you know, these are the NICE schools. Not like the rough, shoddy council estate schools I went to where fights broke out on the football pitch between the 5th years and the local estate hooligans with planks of wood decorated with 9 inch nails. (Not the band. And most of these were my childhood pals.) These are nice schools in nice areas, particularly the secondary school where this abominable incident took place.
 So you gota wonder. if this is happening at a decent school, to 11 year olds, what more will the next generation have to face? It's a Jeremy Kyle Nation.

Having ignored this blog for a while (ok, about a year and a half, slightly more than 'a while', I admit) I have today been inspired to regenerate my once beloved online diary. Having read back a few of my older posts, I clearly need to update a bit, in case one person out in the universe is remotely interested in my less than spectacular life.
Right, healthwise I'm not so good, (again). M.E. is kicking my arse daily, but I'm merrily battling on and trying my best to 'rest' and look after myself. But can I just say, I'm a single Mam, I do kinda HAVE to clean and stuff, at least sometimes! Otherwise I'd be living in a filthy mire and my children would be eating hot dogs every day, 'Shameless' style. Today, I write this from my sofa, wrapped in my pink snuggle blanket, eating a cup of pasta/soupy stuff (which was all I could make in this state), wearing delightful stripey socks that make me look somewhat like The Wicked Witch of the West. I have tidied and hoovered my living room, and started on the kitchen but came over a bit funny and didn't want to collapse (again) so returned to my little cocoon. My, I am hot, to, trot.
Notably in my older posts my kittens were younger, 4 and 10, to be precise. They are now 11 (eep!) and almost 6. Little kitten is having a Star Wars party next month for her birthday, I have never been so proud. Eldest kitten is growing to be a lovely wee minx, but since starting Secondary school she is WORRYINGLY grown up and hideously embarrassed by me quite often. Ah well, such is the way of the world. Also different to my last blog, I am now single. The boy in question really couldn't handle my being ill,  (which I understood), and when the stress of it broke us up I figured it was sad but ultimately forgivable and hoped to stay friends. Unfortunately I then found out he'd cheated on me with a homeless girl and had told some dreadful lies about me, which I was less understanding and forgiving about.
Another big change is that I did eventually have to leave my Art and Design course, which pretty much broke my heart, but I was so ill it became impossible. Anyhoo, my health did perk up a lot earlier this year, I began looking for part time work, then I broke my coccyx roller skating... Aaaand a few months of broken bum/stressful events/general busyness seem to have set me back a bit. I shall not be overcome though, I'm gona rest up, take my meds and vitamins, and damn well get better again! But I might as well use this time to catch up on my blog eh?

Some points of note: My daughter is no longer grounded after a week of it. She still bloody well better clean her room before buggering off with her friends later or it'll be the cage in the kitchen for her...
(I jest, obviously.)
My youngest has tried and failed to sound out the 'igh' in words, 'bright', 'light' etc. To my great horror and amusement she spells out 'night' thus: 'Nuh. i. Guh. Huh. Tuh. Erm, Niguh?!' No darling, not that word, it says 'night'...
My cat hates me. She comes for a cuddle (or this is strongly implied) then bites me and saunters off. Mean.
Gladstone street is still smeared with dog shit from end to end. Kinda makes me glad I'm partially housebound.
My pretty but flimsy leopard print shoes died a death, were replaced, and are about to die again, horribly.
I would like a pet Lizard. My brothers' just died. This makes me sad.
My life is so dreadfully unglamorous at the minute that I'm actually looking forward to the social highlight, visiting my Mother in James Cook after her op this week.
Did you know Greggs sausage rolls are made of reconstituted powdered meat? Really.

This blog has been a bit dull, but let's call it our catch up. Next time I shall tell you all about the joys of parents evening... and let's hope that at the next one my daughter does not try, again, to fix me up with her friends Dad...