unravelling the good

What a great weekend I had.  Friday night there were drinks and a delicious roast and polenta dinner here, Saturday I spent all day at work, before heading in for more beers with the rellies.  Sunday we played golf at the town course then had some more drinks.  Obviously, from that ultra quick run down, all the good work from last week was nearly undone with the diet and booze blow out of the weekend.  I’ve really got to tighten up on the control thing here.  One night in at the rellies, as one night a week on the booze is well enough for me while I’m working hard at what I’m doing.

Otherwise, I’m pretty happy with how the training is going.  Have really only been into it a week or so, coming up on two weeks, but it’s starting to feel like routine.  Starting to see some results – my pants were definately looser than a couple of weekends ago when I was out with Dad.  That is pleasing, particularly cause it’s only two weeks.  I think the goal for this week will be to train 2 per day on at least 3 days, and golf twice.  Money’s always an issue with that though.

Golf was ok.  Nothing to write home about.  Hitting the driver well.  Still some inconsistencies to iron out, but it’s the short game that really needs the bulk of the work.  It was atrocious at best.  Putting was not great, missed quite a lot of relatively straight puts – maybe quitting on the follow through as Dad suggested.  Am planning to, and want to get some more work done – perhaps the short course at Innes Park is what I need to do a fair bit of for a while, just until I get the short game under control.  Have tried suggesting that MG put a putting surface in in the yard, but to no avail.  Bastards.  Although understandable – maintenance would be horrendous.

On the upside, we’ve discovered, through extensive research and experimentation, that low carb beer doesn’t give you a hangover!  There’s less alcohol and lower total volume of beer in the bottles, but at the end of the day, when you’ve had 10 stubbies, you feel like you’ve had 10 stubbies.  It’s full on strength but low on carbs, great for the diet and no hangover to boot!

Again

Starting all over again. It feels that way anyway. It feels as though I’ve let go of all the work that I did to get to the point where I was looking forward to running. I was in a good place then, even though the bad habits were still there, I was in a better place than I am now. The holiday was the downfall of that.

That’s just an excuse though. Another excuse.  I came back from the holiday wanting to do more stuff.  More mountain stuff, be more active, eat healthier and just be natually doing the right things.  It’s not happened that way, for various reasons but mostly just out of lack of desire and dedication.

I’ve made the decision to go home and do the police thing.  Before the holiday I was doing it for that reason only, and I think in the two weeks that I was doing alright I started to lose weight.  Nothing overly noticable, but it was there.

Monday is the beginning of a new chapter.  I’ve said this so many times before it seems nearly to the point that I don’t actually believe myself when I say it.  The way I’m feeling, at the moment, is for me about rock bottom.  I’m not eating well, not sleeping, feel fat and disgusting.  I’m constantly tired.  I get grumpy and cranky.  The list is endless.  I;m sat here typing with my eyes closed.  I’m exhausted.  I’ve not long ago had an extra shot latte.  That’s 3 shots of espresso and it hasn’t hit me.  It did for a little whileIt would be all very easy to say ‘oh well…maybe I just can’t do it.

Being here doesn’t make things easy.  It makes things fucking hard, but that’s one of the things that I just need to overcome.  People everywhere – drinking, smoking, eating shit – it all makes it harder cause it’s right there infront of me.  How fucking bad is this going to have to get before I actually take responsibility for what I’m doing to myself and sort it out?!

Monday is the start of it – I’m embarking on the 5 x 5 program, at the smacky gym, so not the best place, but I’m skint, the gym is cheap and accessible and it’s a beginning.  I’ll do the program as prescribed.  The only changes being that I’ll be using a rack for the squats when the weight gets up there…  I’ll do bench and the additional exercises as prescribed.  I’ll run one to two times per week and walk another two times per week.  The walks will be disguised as getting places.  Eating will be sorted out.  All the bad shit I’m doing will be stopped.

There’s no way I can go back to Australia like this.  I leave in about 3.5 months, it will be treated somewhat as a 12 week challenge, although not as strict.  I just want to be fitter, leaner and more healthy for when I get home.  That’s the goal, that’s all that I want out of this.

The trouble with love is…

That at one point or another, due to one cause or another, one leaves the relationship that has been built between two people.  It happens to the best of relationships.  Even the longest lasting, most strong relationships come crashing down when one person leaves; usually through death; but not always.  I feel that I’ve developed a few relationships while in Magheralin and then end drew up on Monday when I left for London.  This morning she asked my why I left ‘them’ anyway; them being the Northern Ireland bunch.  How do you explain the need to leave?  Or the reluctance to be thrown out?

 

I know that in the end I will be ok; but I think a little part of me will always wonder what what might have been if we had of met under different circumstances.  I will always think of her fondly; and regret the chance that I had to have her.  I have found myself thinking about what would happen if I had stayed longer – would she really have fallen for me and left Davus?!

 

Just off the phone to her there.  She has seriously considered leaving Davus for me; that’s the only thing stopping her.  She was disappointed to find that she wouldn’t be able to get a visa for Canada cause of the age thing but said that I’d have to forgo it and head straight for Australia.  I wouldn’t even think about it; merely suggest a long-ish holiday before we head home.  She said she considered how much cash she could get access to and all the things she’d need to sort out.

 

Did she feel she knows me well enough to make that sort of commitment – i.e. just to up and leave for the other side of the world with me…?  She’s not sure she knows me well enough, but she would give it a try.  I said that Nat had asked me the same thing and that I said that yes, I’d be happy to make that decision.  Oh god, why did we start talking about her leaving Davus for me.  Now that’s what I want; that’s all I can think about.  In a way it sort of gives me hope when it shouldn’t be like that.  I shouldn’t be feeling as though there is hope for me and her cause at the end of the day I strongly doubt that she’ll leave her husband.  They say the mistress never gets the man; I wonder if that rings true for the woman who’s having an affair – does she ever leave?

 

We laughed about what people would think.  Actually I said that I thought Mum would fall over if I took her home and was like ‘This is Kate.  You’ve also inherited 4 step-grandkids; but they’re still in Ireland.’  Kate said that she didn’t think that my Mum would think much of her in that case; but I would like to think that Mum would be more accepting than that.  I would like to think that all of my family would accept her and approve of our relationship.  God, this is going to fuck my head up!!

Rules of Unattraction

The verdict is out.  He’s not leaving her.  We’re allowed to see each other.  We’re allowed to go to Dublin together. 

I say allowed like she needs his permission.  I can understand why she needs him to be ok with it; and I’m glad he trusts her enough to be alone with me; but I don’t think that she should need his permission.  At the end of the day it all comes down to trust.  I asked if he trusted her to be alone with me.  She said she didn’t trust herself to be alone with me, in my house.  Rules of Unattraction. 

This, her and I, is a somewhat destructive relationship.  Destructive cause I’m built up then shot straight back down.  It’s more in my own head.  She couldn’t work yesterday cause she was distracted.  He asked what she was thinking about and she said to me ‘I can’t text back saying I’m thinking about kissing (me)’.  Hearing that made me so hot.  Made me feel as though she was attracted to me, like I am to her.  It’s also pretty fucked up cause she’s in the middle of this shit with her husband, feeling bad for having feelings for me but then always comes back to thinking about me.  That’s the good bit.  The bad is when she goes home to him.  When she says something about him.  That’s when I take bad form.  Mrs U knows this – we discussed it after my sudden change of form at Bushmills.  I think that Mrs U knows me well enough to know when to leave me alone with my thoughts.

I’ve fallen for her.  Fallen hard.  I am so attracted to her.  The thought of us crossing the line on Monday night makes my stomach do backflips and gives me tingles in places it shouldn’t.  I can’t get her out of my head.  Can’t stop thinking about her.  How the fuck am I going to walk away from her at the airport.

I don’t know how my blog has turned to this.  I know it seems as though my life is completely consumed by her, thoughts of her and spending as much time with her as possible.  I guess in a way it has.  It feels like the start of a very special relationship that I know can not go anywhere.

Today we’re golfing at Dunmurry.  Ma, Mrs U, Ms G & I.  It is a final girls day out with the people who bullied me into playing golf.  It’s a lovely day outside.  Completely different to yesterday and I’m actually looking forward to getting out and having a walk around in the sun.  I can not wait.  Determined to be in good form and to have a day of good craic. 

I’m so glad that they bullied me into playing golf.  I only wish that I’d started earlier.  Not sure why I didn’t – and why I didn’t get out more when I first arrived.  I’ve become such great friends with Mrs U and really enjoy spending time with her.  We have such a laugh together and just click.  Even when I raced over to the dirty car on Friday night and wrote “if you think this is dirty you should see my wife” – she laughed saying she was thinking the exact same thing!  Class.

Feels so strange to be unemployed again.  Not money wise, just not having to go to work.  I am free to be alone, to be myself and to do exactly what I want.  Without any restrictions.  I love it!

Off to golf.  Glad of the sunshine and the end of winter!

The truth

So she is telling the husband about what happened between us on Monday night.  I understand why she wants to, why she has to.  She says that her conscience is killing her, and that it has to come out; but I’d really like it if she could hold off until after I left.  I’m kinda scared cause I think that he’ll tell her never to see me again, which is a very scary concept, even though I’m well aware that there’s that potential when I leave anyway.  I’m so looking forward to Dublin, he can’t take that away from me, can he?  Although I guess that I’ve, in some way, taken his wife away from him. 

While packing today I had a thought – along the lines of how am I going to survive without her.  She’s become such a good friend, someone I trust and care for.  Then Monday night makes it worse.  It was so clear she didn’t want to go home, but there was no way she could stay.  I get butterflies in my stomach when I think about it, about how close we were, about laying with her; and just being able to kiss her whenever I wanted.  I want that.  The kiss on the way out was pretty hot too!

Packing up my life is harder than I ever expected.  I knew that decision making about what to take, what to send and what to chuck wasn’t going to be that easy but I didn’t realise that it would make me think about everyone here and how much I’m going to miss them.  I can not believe that I leave in 5 days. 

I am very excited to get to both London, and Vancouver, but at the same time I don’t feel like leaving my friends.

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Fight the urge

K went back to Dublin today, in preparation to fly to Vancouver on tomorrow.  I am glad that she had a good night last night.  Everyone seemed to like her, quite a lot, maybe more than me!

I felt a bit bad today as she wanted me to go to Dublin with her for lunch.  When I woke up the prospect of spending 4 hours on the bus to go to lunch was too much.  A big part of me also wanted to see her.  I know that it was wrong for me not to accompany my sister today, but I just want to spend time with K-C before I go.  I can’t help myself.  I’m looking to spend time with her at every opportunity.  I do not know why.  I have no idea why I like her so much; and I’ve no words to explain the connection – it’s strength or why it’s there even.

After dropping K at the bus we headed for our regular table at Starbucks and chatted for ages.  Lunch turned into dinner in Moira.  Lunch and a drink turned into 7 hours sitting in the booth, playing I-want-to-touch-you-but-know-I-shouldn’t.  There was major contact between the legs, much more physical contact than we’d usually have.  and I liked it.  I wanted more.  She spent the majority of the afternoon sitting behind me, in the same side of the booth but watching the TV over my shoulder.  I would intentionally sit close to her cause I wanted to touch her.  I wasn’t sure how she would react, but she would lean into me a bit, she’d lean really close when I was saying something and would find an excuse to touch some part of my body throughout the afternoon.

I just wanted to lean back and sit, resting against her with her arms around me.  I knew we couldn’t be that public with our displays of affection so fought the urge to take her hand all afternoon.  Was on my best behaviour when she dropped me off, despite having 6 pints & feeling the love in a big way.

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A chapter closing

Today feels like the end of another chapter in my life and I’m feeling somewhat apprehensive about it all.  Moving on is harder this time.  I’ve been here longer than I’ve been anywhere before in my life, well, since I’ve been on the move anyway.  My life is about this at the moment, it’s a path that I’ve chosen, and one that I’m not overly comfortable with at the moment.  It seems that this up and down lifestyle does in fact come with some down-sides. 

 

I’ve made better friends here than I have anywhere else overseas.  I’ve got closer to some of the people here than I have for a long time.  I’ve developed some friendships that could potentially rival the one that I have with Lex.  Although I do treasure with all my heart the friendship that I have with her, these ones are completely different. 

 

Mrs U said to me a couple of weeks ago “Am I ever going to see you again.”  I’d love to be able to say yes to that, but the complete truth is that I don’t actually know.  That, in itself, is a fairly scary concept.  Even more so with K-C.  We’ve become so close so quickly it’s pretty scary.  The big pink elephant is growing more and more obvious to anyone that looks on.  At Bushmills there was a photo taken of us, doing nothing, just standing, talking.  The photo appears to be an intimate moment when we’re just there being us.  That’s a lot how I feel about her.  I feel that I’ve a connection with her, a connection that is just about unrivalled by anyone else.  The ex maybe; but that’s gone now.  She’s just a feature of my past, and although I still respect and love her; K-C has made me forget about that. 

 

For the briefest of times I’ve felt like she’s my girlfriend.  I sometimes stop and think ‘what am I doing’.  I’ve noticed that I treat her like my girlfriend.  I talk to her like she’s my girlfriend.  I like that.  It was the other day in the car I asked the simplest of questions, or we had the simplest of conversations going; but it really felt like we were partners.  I can’t even remember what it was about and I don’t know how to explain it; it just felt that way at the time.

 

I was taken aback at the kindness and authenticity of feelings towards me shown at the gym tonight.  I was talking to everyone, said the same things a thousand times over and everyone was genuinely interested.  I was just standing about, talking to Linda when Cardio Girl arrived with a gift bag.  I tried to leave the gym; didn’t really want it done there, but it got done anyway.  An Ulster Rugby top.  Such a great gift, and such an unexpected surprise.  Two minutes later Harv came into the gym and was like ‘er, there’s a delivery here’.  I walked out to find flowers, a Thornton’s chocolate cake and another gift bag. 

 

I’m genuinely surprised by the gifts that I’ve received tonight.  I’m surprised at the emotion expressed by everyone.  It seems that there’s a little sadness in everyone at the moment…wishful thinking on my part maybe, but it certainly seems that the mood in the gym was different tonight.

 

It made me think that perhaps I really have had an influence, a positive one, on people’s lives.  Even people who I didn’t really think I would have had want to know what I’m doing and want to thank me for all that I’ve done.  One lady shook my hand and decided she wanted to hug me.  I wasn’t really up for it as I don’t feel particularly close to her; but she was having none of it.  I asked GI Joe if I could just say ‘I don’t want hugged’.  He said that would be rude; and also that that was going to be happening all day.  It didn’t, but there was certainly more hugs than I ever would have expected.  I’m really humbled by all the words that have been said to and about me over the last couple of weeks.  Everyone’s all we’re-going-to-miss-you and it’s really nice.

 

On the gay side of life, K-C brought a copy of DIVA for me today & read it before she managed to get it to the gym.  I was shocked by a text from her saying ‘I’ve to stop reading diva…making me think bad thoughts.’  In typical jovial fashion I replied with ‘are you reading about strap ons?’ but got one back saying ‘not reading.  Just flicking…pictures of girls kissing makes me want to.’  What do you say to that.  Despite the marriage & 4 kids I think there’s a lot of gay in her.  I do, at times, think that if the situation was different she’d be a lesbian.  I see a lot of qualities in her that makes me think that; not that I’m stereotyping, but she sets my gay-dar buzzing!  We’d an afternoon of ‘Martina Navratilova is my here…’, ‘another one I like…Ellen.  Am I gay?’ messages.  How does one respond to that?  Other than ‘sounds like it!’

 

Next week will be full of craic.  Wednesday is a day with the girls.  Belfast drinking probably.  There’s been some mention of Port Rush, but I’m not sure if that will happen.  Handy Andy wants to meet us in Belfast for a ‘get the load on’ session that night, but I’m not sure that’s the smartest thing to do considering Thursday is my day of love with K-C.  I do not want a hangover for that.  It’s not actually a day of love, but spending the day with her gives me warm fuzzies.  I’m such a girl at times.  Wednesday might have to be a scotch and soda day!

 

I’m pretty screwed for this ABBA party on Saturday.  K-C is chauffeuring me to party/dress up shops tomorrow in search of the perfect uniform; and I suspect a little in an effort to see my legs sticking out the bottom of a skirt…

Chavs, big-mouthed D-Listers & a marriage.

That media-hungry slapper Jade Goody is back in the spotlight again. Granted, it’s not overly spectacular that she’s got cancer and is going to kick it pretty soon, but one would think that anyone reasonable would want to go out with a bit of dignity; not bloody splashing their ‘poor me’ sob story all over the papers. No, not the big-mouthed-racist-chav I’m-famous-for-being-famous Jade-bloody-Goody. I can not stand her. She’s a big-mouthed slapper, who really is the chav of chavs who just happened to be accepted into D-list ‘fame’ when she was on Big Brother. Her ensuing success is nothing to do with her talent (or what would appear to be lack of) – pure publicity. Today her publicist got on the radio; and I would have thought that Radio One would have had better things to broadcast; saying she wanted to make as much money as possible for her boys. Fair enough. I can see her point. But then in the same breath this numpty said she’s being so open about her illness to promote awareness to other women & that her stories have prompted an increase in women & teenage girls having smears. My arse she is concerned about that. It’s all about the money and the celebrity status for her. And it’s sad that people have so little in their lives they’re increasingly interested in this sort of bollocks. But that’s the reality of the celebrity obsessed culture that is Britain. Not that I’m knocking Britain…I wouldn’t dream of doing that. Just; you know.

Speaking of chavs, Rushmere was full of them today. I actually saw three girls walking along the side walk in those god-awful velor tracksuit bottoms. Purple and Hot Pink no less. Chavs. They sit about the shopping centre drinking cider from the can, & smoking giant splifs while looking generally raggedy, untidy and trying to look intimidating; all the while free loading off the public system. It might be completely inaccurate & big-headed, but I feel increasingly ‘better’ (for lack of a more apt word) than a lot of people I see about on the street – maybe just cause I actually look in the mirror before I go out, even just to the shops; and cause I get around to brushing my teeth more than once a week. Is that me having standards? Or is it that I do have standards, but they may be too high (say brushing your teeth twice a day – credit crunch & all) and henceforth I’m just plain judgemental if people can not meet said expectations and standards of dress and behaviour? Are we at finishing school?

Giving off done…I’ve spent the majority of the evening playing on my latest acquisition. A brand spanking new Advent 4211C netbook. It seems to be quite class, and I can confidently say that, with some adjustment & getting used to the smaller screen size, my fingers being more mashed together when I type and having a single control button for the finger panel, I could love the thing. It’s all very dinky and quite a sexy piece of kit. At 120G memory I‘m hoping that it stores enough of my photos and files to get me home. It seems quite handy, and relatively speedy, compared to the brick of a laptop I’ve had before. Here’s hoping the little thing lives up to my expectations.  I can not wait to see what it can do on the fly!

In other news, Mrs U & I are getting married. Decided over pints at Mary’s and only out of a her getting me to stay. ‘This is going to sound so gay…’ was the most common statement of the night coming out of her mouth and was frequently followed by some comment along the lines of ‘I cried this morning in the shower when I thought about you leaving’ or ‘I’m going to be heart broken when you leave’. So I simply suggested that for me to stay she’d have to marry me. Apparently would be no bother whatsoever, despite her already being married to Mr U. Although there would be none of the business…just a marriage of convenience. Would suit me down to the ground, just as long as I had the Army girl to keep me company on cold, lonely nights. Mrs U is now referred to as ‘Wifey’ or “Alpha Wife”. Clearly I should recognise my place and stay put.