Hellish.

My eldest kitten started 'Big School' (or 'Ginormous Girl School' according to little kitten and our friend Bella who recently joined reception,  as they are at 'big school'.) This is terribly exciting, and she's suddenly very grown up and life is marvellously dramatic every day.
For me, this means she needs more support with homework - fine, more daily spending money - fine. She is much more independent and sociable - scary but fine.
However, as a single parent struggling financially, this is not fine:

P.E. Kit: One each of tracksuit bottoms, hoody, t-shirt, shorts, socks, all mandatory, about £50
Locker £20
Blazer, £22
Shirts (x 4) £16
Jumpers (x 2) £12
Tie and school badge £8
Skirts (x 3) £22
Shoes £25
Stationary inc mandatory items £26
Coat £28
Underwear inc bras, tights, etc £36
Trainers for P.E. £13, Dad paid.
Football boots (mandatory) Free. The 'Wife' sorted it.
Bag, free, she pinched the one I got for Christmas last year, which is a f*ucking awesome messenger bag covered in retro cartoons. Good job I love her.

Total it has cost me personally to kit out my eldest kitten for secondary school - £265

And one term in, her new shoes have bloody fallen apart from all the walking...

Hellish.

Mingin' Motel.

Why can't I f*cking sleep? Seriously, I need sleep. We all need sleep - I especially need quite a lot of sleep, due to having M.E. which annoyingly enough causes sleep impairment. When you suffer with M.E. you need more sleep than most, yet regardless of how much sleep you have you rarely seem to feel refreshed or rested, as it also affects the quality of your sleep! I really need sleep! 

And yet here I am, watching some tripe on the telly about twats being murdered in hotel rooms. Kate Beckinsale and What's His Name Wilson are quite hot leads, admittedly, but eye candy can't save this, not least 'cos they're crawling around sweaty, muddy and angry, with the threat of rape and/or murder around every rat infested corner. Also, everything is filthy, and I don't mean in the good way. If I went to a hotel like that, or rather a 'Motel', I'd just f*ck it all off and sleep in me car at the first sight of the bathroom and whiff of the crusty sheets. In real life, who stays in these places?! Even in movies, you know that if your 'Motel' has orange stripey curtains, threadbare brown rugs, mouldy towels and crunchy bedding, along with a sinister looking moustachioed night porter, with a maniacal grin and murderous glint in his eye, then it is probably because, first and foremost, the night porter is indeed maniacal and murderous. Also, the place mings. Leave. Now. You. Crazy. Muppets.


Anyway, just thought I'd share, seeing as how I can't sleep.

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.*