2003-04-05

I'm having a fair bit of trouble writing regularly, huh? I simply don't have the space in my brain to do stuff, there is never enough quiet for me to write.

Last week, I turned 30, quite a milestone. For about the last year, I had intended having a big ass party. When the time came to organise it, I really didn't feel very party like, didn't feel like celebrating and couldn't be arsed feeling good enough to organise it for myself. Things were going pretty wrong around me, and it wouldn't have felt right to party on dude, when things in my little life-cell were so negative.So now I am 30. I got a card from work and that was it.

OH hang on, on the night of my birthday I went to the Newcastle show. In fact I went to the show on two occassions. On the Friday night I went with Nods and Fiona with the intention of being a bit of a granny and looking at chickens, craft and cooking. But for some reason when we got there, Nods decided we should be there and began asking me if I wanted to leave. So the rest of the night I felt uncomfortable being there as Nods was so desperate to leave. Which we did.

During the day, I spent a fair chunk lying on my bathroom floor crying.

The next night, I went with Dame, Simi and Jameh to see the monster truck and the fire inferno car dude. But it was unbelieveably crap, I really don't know what the show folk were thinking. So we left and went to the supermarket, where I bought myself a chocolate mud cake and some candles. We went back to my house, I lit the candles, it was pretty lame and I felt stupid. The best part was buying party clicker things and clicking like a dickhead for an hour or so. God my birthday sucked.

I like telling people I am 30, as it spins them out. Most people would pick me for 25 at the most. That's the extent of my fun lately.

I'm on holidays for two weeks, but it feels crap anyhow. I'm not really going anywhere, cuz all I really want is complete peace at home, but that is an impossibility. I want to drive far away, but then I would still feel frustrated, I just want to chill at my house alone for five days. If I could lock the doors for 5 days, maybe I would be well again when I opened them. Fuckit, I just feel eaten up and need to refuel. ITS SO FUCKED I JUST WANT TO BE ALONE. And it feels completely selfish to want that.

Everyday feels so rushed.

Anyhow, I have been cooking heaps. Oh fuck, I can't write about this crap now, I'm so tight and tied up and just want to screamallthetime.Fuck, I've got to stop writing this, I am doing my own head in and its only 9.30am I can't fuck up my own day already. I haven't felt alive for quite awhile.