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Friday, 17 April 2015
Thursday, 16 April 2015
Saturday, 28 March 2015
Sunday, 22 March 2015
Thursday, 18 December 2014
Sunday, 16 November 2014
Monday, 29 September 2014
Friday, 13 June 2014
In Preparation For Hellfest
I promised myself some time ago - probably around last new year to be honest - that I'd relearn some basic French in order to get by easier when I went to Hellfest.
Well, now Hellfest is almost upon us and until this afternoon, I hadn't even entertained the idea of looking over any french work. A few hours ago, I picked up a couple of good quality (but cheap) books to kickstart my french relearning. After studying the language for five years in school, I'm hoping that it'll trigger my memory and that it'll be easier to learn, within reason, than learning everything from scratch.
In a way, I wish that I'd never stopped learning languages - I feel that if I'd stuck with them all as I picked them up, I could be halfway to fluent in French, German, Spanish, Japanese and Korean as well as moving in the right direction with Greek, Cantonese and Mandarin. When I really think about it, there are so many things that I'm capable of doing and all that's standing in the way is my own mental health issues. It's more disabling than I could ever have imagined.
Like I said though, I'm trying to get back on the horse, and I think that I'm sort of getting there. This interaction overload did set me back but I feel like I can spring forward again, now that I've had a short time to lose myself in the anonymity that the city centre provides.
As for learning French, or relearning or whatever, I'll try to keep this updated and things. Hopefully soon I'll be able to hold actual conversations with people! It's strange, the way they teach foreign languages in British schools - parrot phrases and jigsaw paragraphs. If I went to France, being able to talk at length about my family or what I did during the summer holidays would be so wildly unhelpful that it's almost comedic. And slightly sad too. It's a shame that we aren't taught with immersion although I can see why it'd be impractical. I just feel that the benefits outweigh the drawbacks.
In regards to Hellfest, I can't tell whether I'm most excited to see the bands, go on holiday to France, or to be reviewing the bands for GetYourRockOut.co.uk. I think it's pretty much an equal measure of all three things along with a whole bunch of other stuff too. Hopefully everything will go better with GYRO this time - it's pretty worrying how my emails keep getting 'lost'. They appear in my sent folder and I'm pretty certain that wouldn't happen if they weren't definitely 'sent'. My email hasn't changed, their email hasn't changed and they're not in their junk folder so lord knows where they're actually going. Of course there's always the possibility that they GYRO people either aren't seeing them because they're getting so many emails from everyone. Or there's the possibility that they're ignoring my emails as a way to subtly remove me from their team. Hopefully that's just me being paranoid though...
With that in mind however, I have wanted to start putting out feelers to find other reviewing sites and other companies that need photographers. I know there's a few local ones but the level of professionalism there is always a bit of a worry. I've seen some companies get really successful very quickly, only to find out they'd been built on a whim and folded within a year. It's scary to put work into something that feels so transient. But then I suppose that's all life is. At the end of the day, nothing is forever.
Well, now Hellfest is almost upon us and until this afternoon, I hadn't even entertained the idea of looking over any french work. A few hours ago, I picked up a couple of good quality (but cheap) books to kickstart my french relearning. After studying the language for five years in school, I'm hoping that it'll trigger my memory and that it'll be easier to learn, within reason, than learning everything from scratch.
In a way, I wish that I'd never stopped learning languages - I feel that if I'd stuck with them all as I picked them up, I could be halfway to fluent in French, German, Spanish, Japanese and Korean as well as moving in the right direction with Greek, Cantonese and Mandarin. When I really think about it, there are so many things that I'm capable of doing and all that's standing in the way is my own mental health issues. It's more disabling than I could ever have imagined.
Like I said though, I'm trying to get back on the horse, and I think that I'm sort of getting there. This interaction overload did set me back but I feel like I can spring forward again, now that I've had a short time to lose myself in the anonymity that the city centre provides.
As for learning French, or relearning or whatever, I'll try to keep this updated and things. Hopefully soon I'll be able to hold actual conversations with people! It's strange, the way they teach foreign languages in British schools - parrot phrases and jigsaw paragraphs. If I went to France, being able to talk at length about my family or what I did during the summer holidays would be so wildly unhelpful that it's almost comedic. And slightly sad too. It's a shame that we aren't taught with immersion although I can see why it'd be impractical. I just feel that the benefits outweigh the drawbacks.
In regards to Hellfest, I can't tell whether I'm most excited to see the bands, go on holiday to France, or to be reviewing the bands for GetYourRockOut.co.uk. I think it's pretty much an equal measure of all three things along with a whole bunch of other stuff too. Hopefully everything will go better with GYRO this time - it's pretty worrying how my emails keep getting 'lost'. They appear in my sent folder and I'm pretty certain that wouldn't happen if they weren't definitely 'sent'. My email hasn't changed, their email hasn't changed and they're not in their junk folder so lord knows where they're actually going. Of course there's always the possibility that they GYRO people either aren't seeing them because they're getting so many emails from everyone. Or there's the possibility that they're ignoring my emails as a way to subtly remove me from their team. Hopefully that's just me being paranoid though...
With that in mind however, I have wanted to start putting out feelers to find other reviewing sites and other companies that need photographers. I know there's a few local ones but the level of professionalism there is always a bit of a worry. I've seen some companies get really successful very quickly, only to find out they'd been built on a whim and folded within a year. It's scary to put work into something that feels so transient. But then I suppose that's all life is. At the end of the day, nothing is forever.
Downsides of Being an Introvert
Since the last post, given that it was a couple of hours ago, I've sort of done a lot. Mentally, that is. Or at least, I think I have, I guess.
I'm beginning to realise (again) that the more human interaction I have, face-to-face, the more detached from myself I become. It's probably why I coasted through school and college as an emotionally unavailable robot. Seeing people five or six days a week for eight hours really isn't my thing, or so it would seem.
I can handle interaction that isn't in person fairly well most of the time. It's just seeing a lot of people and a lot of disruption to my routine that throws me off. Recently, there has been metric fucktonnes of routine disruption and face-to-face interaction. It hasn't all been a bad thing but it has definitely drained me. Mentally, physically, emotionally: all I want to do is switch off and spend a few hours watching Fringe uninterrupted. That's not to say that if someone came to me with an emergency, I'd ignore them - not at all! But what I do really need is just a few hours to just recharge.
It sounds a lot like I'm just slating social interaction but that couldn't be further from my intentions. I love spending an afternoon catching up with friends or just hanging out. I love meeting up with people and while I might not be so wild about meeting new people most of the time, I can definitely see the merits of it, especially while trying to succeed in a business as network-heavy as photography and photo editing. All that I need, I think, is to manage my time better. I'm trying to heal (as new-age as that sounds) and I simply can't do that if I'm exhausting myself by spending all my time socialising or running around after other people or doing things for other people.
But at the same time, helping others and doing things for others and all that makes me feel better about myself so helps the healing process. What I've got to do is find a balance between the two that allows me to get better by giving myself space and time but that also allows me to feel better about myself by helping others.
Now, after all that renewed self-realisation, I'm going to head home and start working on the poster for Violence Is Violence Festival. After I've made a decent start on that, or done everything I can for now, I'm going to start working on more photo edits. I've got a lot of work to do on my "Uncanny Valley" project so it'll be good to get started on that in earnest after handing in my final piece.
I'm beginning to realise (again) that the more human interaction I have, face-to-face, the more detached from myself I become. It's probably why I coasted through school and college as an emotionally unavailable robot. Seeing people five or six days a week for eight hours really isn't my thing, or so it would seem.
I can handle interaction that isn't in person fairly well most of the time. It's just seeing a lot of people and a lot of disruption to my routine that throws me off. Recently, there has been metric fucktonnes of routine disruption and face-to-face interaction. It hasn't all been a bad thing but it has definitely drained me. Mentally, physically, emotionally: all I want to do is switch off and spend a few hours watching Fringe uninterrupted. That's not to say that if someone came to me with an emergency, I'd ignore them - not at all! But what I do really need is just a few hours to just recharge.
It sounds a lot like I'm just slating social interaction but that couldn't be further from my intentions. I love spending an afternoon catching up with friends or just hanging out. I love meeting up with people and while I might not be so wild about meeting new people most of the time, I can definitely see the merits of it, especially while trying to succeed in a business as network-heavy as photography and photo editing. All that I need, I think, is to manage my time better. I'm trying to heal (as new-age as that sounds) and I simply can't do that if I'm exhausting myself by spending all my time socialising or running around after other people or doing things for other people.
But at the same time, helping others and doing things for others and all that makes me feel better about myself so helps the healing process. What I've got to do is find a balance between the two that allows me to get better by giving myself space and time but that also allows me to feel better about myself by helping others.
Now, after all that renewed self-realisation, I'm going to head home and start working on the poster for Violence Is Violence Festival. After I've made a decent start on that, or done everything I can for now, I'm going to start working on more photo edits. I've got a lot of work to do on my "Uncanny Valley" project so it'll be good to get started on that in earnest after handing in my final piece.
I've been doing that thing again...
So hi there! Again...
Ugh it's been forever! It's been a mixture of being really busy and being really depressed, often at the same time. As many of you probably realise, being both at the same time doesn't really work at all.
With that in mind, I keep thinking I'm together enough to write this blog entry but in actual fact, I opened this dialogue box yesterday evening and I've stared at it, I've ignored it, I've talked about it and I've even showed the terrapin (he didn't seem too fussed). I think it's probably taken around 23 hours for me to even get this far...
And low and behold, it's taken a further 20 hours for me to start up again after that last paragraph. Everything is too difficult to deal with right now. I hate to say it but yesterday night I was too mentally exhausted to even change my fucking webpage - how pathetic is that? It's like the epitome of #FirstWorldProblems and it might actually be killing me.
I'm gonna leave this here for now. Hopefully I'll get to post again in a little while but in the meantime, I need a break and possibly another coffee.
Ugh it's been forever! It's been a mixture of being really busy and being really depressed, often at the same time. As many of you probably realise, being both at the same time doesn't really work at all.
With that in mind, I keep thinking I'm together enough to write this blog entry but in actual fact, I opened this dialogue box yesterday evening and I've stared at it, I've ignored it, I've talked about it and I've even showed the terrapin (he didn't seem too fussed). I think it's probably taken around 23 hours for me to even get this far...
And low and behold, it's taken a further 20 hours for me to start up again after that last paragraph. Everything is too difficult to deal with right now. I hate to say it but yesterday night I was too mentally exhausted to even change my fucking webpage - how pathetic is that? It's like the epitome of #FirstWorldProblems and it might actually be killing me.
I'm gonna leave this here for now. Hopefully I'll get to post again in a little while but in the meantime, I need a break and possibly another coffee.
Tuesday, 20 May 2014
Tuesday, 22 April 2014
No, Actually, I'm Not Dead Yet.
Getting back into the blog writing thing is tricky. I set up a little scheduling reminder thing on my phone a little while back to remind me to blog on certain days and stuff and I've steadfastly ignored each and every one up until today. To be honest, I even ignored today's until I got bored and restless enough.
I've been in a pretty dark place over the last few months and I know that I find blogging cathartic, it's just getting the willpower to actually do it that's the hard part.
A lot of the time, I just can't be bothered to blog; I'm so consumed will loathing for pretty much everything that the idea of doing something constructive disgusts and repels me. Although, occasionally, I can use this as fuel for creativity - photo-editing and things like it have been done very successfully in these darker days. NaNoWriMo in particular pulled me through a pretty rough time last year - it was just about a month after my Gran passed away and having Wrimo related obligations pulled me through it and forced me out of the house on a bi-weekly basis. It gave me a good, solid, creative outlet something to do other than just the monotony of work and college and crying. It helped. Sure, my grades for that period still suffered, my manner with the customers took a beating, but I didn't do too many self-destructive things. As pointless and futile as living seemed, I stuck with it, I got my 50k words in the 30 days, against all odds and successfully 'won' NaNoWriMo.
Anyway, I'm going to stop rambling on about that now, this post was just to get me back into the swing of writing (again) and I think it has. I'll do another post tonight, probably a medication based one. Maybe a music based one. It doesn't really matter to be honest, I'm just trying to theme my posts or at least my days a little bit more than having my brain vomit guff all over the internet. Maybe I'll do a weekly round-up of 'Shit That I Find Interesting' rather than spamming my Facebook feed with links from anywhere and everywhere... ANYWAY! I'm just trying to get my head in a little bit of order or something so that I don't feel like I'm going around the bend all the time.
Peace, people, TTYL!
I've been in a pretty dark place over the last few months and I know that I find blogging cathartic, it's just getting the willpower to actually do it that's the hard part.
A lot of the time, I just can't be bothered to blog; I'm so consumed will loathing for pretty much everything that the idea of doing something constructive disgusts and repels me. Although, occasionally, I can use this as fuel for creativity - photo-editing and things like it have been done very successfully in these darker days. NaNoWriMo in particular pulled me through a pretty rough time last year - it was just about a month after my Gran passed away and having Wrimo related obligations pulled me through it and forced me out of the house on a bi-weekly basis. It gave me a good, solid, creative outlet something to do other than just the monotony of work and college and crying. It helped. Sure, my grades for that period still suffered, my manner with the customers took a beating, but I didn't do too many self-destructive things. As pointless and futile as living seemed, I stuck with it, I got my 50k words in the 30 days, against all odds and successfully 'won' NaNoWriMo.
Anyway, I'm going to stop rambling on about that now, this post was just to get me back into the swing of writing (again) and I think it has. I'll do another post tonight, probably a medication based one. Maybe a music based one. It doesn't really matter to be honest, I'm just trying to theme my posts or at least my days a little bit more than having my brain vomit guff all over the internet. Maybe I'll do a weekly round-up of 'Shit That I Find Interesting' rather than spamming my Facebook feed with links from anywhere and everywhere... ANYWAY! I'm just trying to get my head in a little bit of order or something so that I don't feel like I'm going around the bend all the time.
Peace, people, TTYL!
Monday, 20 January 2014
Out the Other Side Again.
The second week of this year was rocky. So rocky, in fact, that I became more paranoid than I have been in a long time. I was despondent, and, when I wasn't paranoid, I was so emotionally blank that I shut myself off from everyone and everything. Unfortunately, what I needed the most was some love and affection but due to things beyond my control, that was pretty unattainable.
Things came to a head the other day, Monday, in fact, but I didn't want to write about it then. It felt like it was too soon, I think. I don't really know. I just wasn't ready. I'm not entirely convinced that I'm ready even now, to be totally honest.
I'm going to say I don't know what brought it on. I sort of do but the reason isn't for the internet. I'm open on this blog but there are things even I want to keep to myself. And realistically, a lot of these paranoid episodes I have are sudden and out of nowhere and I think this time, it was just too many things that came together and came out of nowhere all at the same time. Yeah. I spent the entirety of Tuesday wanting to either throw myself in front of a bus or from a high area.
In the end, it was nothing that a good long talk couldn't pull round and, even though I'm feeling a little worse for wear, I'm pretty much out the other side again now.
Things came to a head the other day, Monday, in fact, but I didn't want to write about it then. It felt like it was too soon, I think. I don't really know. I just wasn't ready. I'm not entirely convinced that I'm ready even now, to be totally honest.
I'm going to say I don't know what brought it on. I sort of do but the reason isn't for the internet. I'm open on this blog but there are things even I want to keep to myself. And realistically, a lot of these paranoid episodes I have are sudden and out of nowhere and I think this time, it was just too many things that came together and came out of nowhere all at the same time. Yeah. I spent the entirety of Tuesday wanting to either throw myself in front of a bus or from a high area.
In the end, it was nothing that a good long talk couldn't pull round and, even though I'm feeling a little worse for wear, I'm pretty much out the other side again now.
Friday, 17 January 2014
A Year of Loss
In the last 12 months, a startling number of people I was close to have died. Last January, my Great Grandma Vi, who'd lived to the grand old age of 101, died just short of her 102nd birthday. It both was and wasn't a surprise at the same time. She was very old (obviously) and very frail but she kept her wits until the moment of her death which was wonderful. I regret not spending more time listening to her stories. After a century on this earth, she must have had some amazing ones.
Then in the summer, my step-dad's mam, Jean, died. She took ill fairly suddenly and we were told as soon as she went into hospital that she was unlikely to make it more than six more weeks. She made less than three. She passed relatively peacefully, all things considered, although the manner of her sickness was, and still is, a point of embarrassment for my step-family. Simply, she was an alcoholic. The human body just isn't equipped to deal with the volume of alcohol she took in.
In September, as I've already written, my Gran, Dorothy, died. We were incredibly close. She pretty much raised me - even though I lived with my mum and step-dad, they both worked full-time so I spent a lot of time at my Gran's house until I was in college. Her death was sudden and heart-breaking. I think what made it even worse was that she recovered from her heart operation faster than we expected - doctors and nurses on the cardiac ward included. The speed of the turnaround from fine-but-tired-after-undergoing-heart-surgery to, well, dying was enough to give even the most seasoned head-banger whiplash.
The week before last, I heard that a close childhood friend, Hal, took his own life. We'd been in the county swimming club and competed together. He was in the year above me at the same school and even though we didn't hang out often through school, we always got on well and always promised to get together more often. It never materialised, unfortunately. Through college, I'd bump into him every other week or so and we always talked as if no time had passed. I regret not talking to him more. His life was a one so full of promise. He was a musician and a writer. He'd played at festivals with his band and was looking to get books published. He would have been so great. In one way, I wonder how it went so wrong for him but then again, at the same time, I totally understand how it could have happened, even if I don't know exactly what he went through. I can wish all I want that I was there for him when, realistically, it's pointless. He had better, closer friends than me who were or should have been there for him. At the end of the day, it doesn't really matter how many people are there for you, if you feel as though you have no self-worth then nothing can make it better but you. It's a catch 22 situation and it's horrible.
This year has very limited ways that it can be worse than last year. I've said that before and I was told that I was jinxing it. Fuck jinxing it. There'll be hell to pay if this year falls to shit as well as last year. Frankly, after my sorry mental state in the last few weeks, I'm not sure I'd make it if this year was worse.
Then in the summer, my step-dad's mam, Jean, died. She took ill fairly suddenly and we were told as soon as she went into hospital that she was unlikely to make it more than six more weeks. She made less than three. She passed relatively peacefully, all things considered, although the manner of her sickness was, and still is, a point of embarrassment for my step-family. Simply, she was an alcoholic. The human body just isn't equipped to deal with the volume of alcohol she took in.
In September, as I've already written, my Gran, Dorothy, died. We were incredibly close. She pretty much raised me - even though I lived with my mum and step-dad, they both worked full-time so I spent a lot of time at my Gran's house until I was in college. Her death was sudden and heart-breaking. I think what made it even worse was that she recovered from her heart operation faster than we expected - doctors and nurses on the cardiac ward included. The speed of the turnaround from fine-but-tired-after-undergoing-heart-surgery to, well, dying was enough to give even the most seasoned head-banger whiplash.
The week before last, I heard that a close childhood friend, Hal, took his own life. We'd been in the county swimming club and competed together. He was in the year above me at the same school and even though we didn't hang out often through school, we always got on well and always promised to get together more often. It never materialised, unfortunately. Through college, I'd bump into him every other week or so and we always talked as if no time had passed. I regret not talking to him more. His life was a one so full of promise. He was a musician and a writer. He'd played at festivals with his band and was looking to get books published. He would have been so great. In one way, I wonder how it went so wrong for him but then again, at the same time, I totally understand how it could have happened, even if I don't know exactly what he went through. I can wish all I want that I was there for him when, realistically, it's pointless. He had better, closer friends than me who were or should have been there for him. At the end of the day, it doesn't really matter how many people are there for you, if you feel as though you have no self-worth then nothing can make it better but you. It's a catch 22 situation and it's horrible.
This year has very limited ways that it can be worse than last year. I've said that before and I was told that I was jinxing it. Fuck jinxing it. There'll be hell to pay if this year falls to shit as well as last year. Frankly, after my sorry mental state in the last few weeks, I'm not sure I'd make it if this year was worse.
Monday, 13 January 2014
Coming Up Blank
Writing this shit is hard. Like the title says, I'm coming up blank on pretty much everything these days. I'm on holiday from work which is kinda nice but at the same time, I feel sort of purposeless. This is why I tend not to take holiday. I've only been off for seven days and it feels like a fucking eternity. I'm not even due back until Sunday either...
Time is taking like six times as long as it should. It's only January 13th but it feels like it should be like March or something. November feels like a year away when in actual fact, NaNoWriMo ended barely six weeks ago. I can't handle all this too well.
I'm getting paranoid, dejected, lonely even though my boyfriend's right there with me. It's sort of ridiculous but at the same time, I haven't even got the energy to feel that bad about myself. I mean, obviously I do, that's most of what's getting me down after all, but at the same time I'm just so apathetic towards it. I feel dead inside. Like a zombie or something.
I know it can be the meds. Mirtazapine can do that to you. One of the people I know had this reaction and switched to Fluoxetine. Obviously I can't do that - having tried them and it going badly, I don't exactly want to do it again. I don't know what I need, really, I guess, or what I want. Apart from a hug and some attention. Unfortunately, everyone's out at the moment so that's going to have to wait until later.
As for progress, I've started doing the washing. I've got maybe three loads left to do. And all the kitchen's nearly clean and the dishes are all done apart from a bunch of glasses and the plate and mug I used this morning. I changed the bedding yesterday. Or maybe the day before. Either way, it's changed. It doesn't match this time like it did but I guess that doesn't really matter. My eating's not going so well and with all the festive disruption my gym going's kind of gone all to pot but I'll be going later today, and then before college tomorrow, with a rest day on Wednesday. I don't want to plan too far ahead, because I can find it too restricting and overwhelming, but at the same time I need some structure to actually make me get out of bed in the morning. I'm actually managing to do my currents project at college now too. There's the PPD 2 and the portfolio that we're doing at the moment. PPD is personal and professional development or something like that, and weirdly for once, it is actually exactly what you'd think. It's a portfolio of work that details my progression into photography and the world of photographers. Everything that I've learned about shoots and target setting and visiting class speakers and jobs in the industry that I've looked at. It all goes into the documents and then it counts for a decent portion of my grade at the end. The other project is the portfolio which is huge and important and it's to be used in our professional lives to get clients and frankly, that fucking terrifies me. What scares me more - I guess that should be 'scared' now - is the fact that it is supposed to be a professional grade portfolio which costs approximately £150 - £200.
I worried and worried about this, and the money that I had to pull out my arse for the London trip, until last Thursday. I turned up to college fairly convinced that I was supposed to have a lesson but apparently not. But I bumped into my lecturer, who I'll not be getting on there but more on that later, and sorted of freaked out all my stresses about there was no fucking way I can afford any of any of the things I 'need' this year.
We agreed that I can submit my portfolio on my iPad - it's only going to have to be with my lecturer for one day in the summer. Hopefully it's not going to be when I'm at a festival! (More on that later too.)
As for the trip to London, I've got to talk to one of the girls on the full-time who's organising it all with the gallery. I still need to do that. I've been meaning to do it since November but I dunno. The thought of talking to a stranger about it, about the fact that I need yet more time to get £40 together, fucking terrifies me. I nearly lost my shit when I had to talk to my lecturer about it back in November! I feel like it'd be a wasted opportunity but then again, any sort of opportunity like that is never going to be a waste unless I really just submitted crappy work and frankly, I don't do crappy work. Especially not where music photography is concerned.
I think I should just stop worrying about it or something. It's all going to turn out fine in the end. I just wish I didn't feel so shitty in the interim.
I Just Hit 1300 Views!
Needless to say, I'm pretty darn happy about that reaching 1300 views! I never imagined that anyone would read this blog really. I figured it'd maybe get a few views a week or something. I know that 1300 hits isn't really a lot in a year but it does feel like it when I see it there in the counter!
I guess I just wanted to thank you for reading, if you're actually reading, that is, rather than just being dragged here by vampirestat.com or other sites that don't really exist to do anything...
Anyway! Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!
I guess I just wanted to thank you for reading, if you're actually reading, that is, rather than just being dragged here by vampirestat.com or other sites that don't really exist to do anything...
Anyway! Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!
Saturday, 7 December 2013
Egg and Bacon Muffin Cups Part 2!
So I didn't really follow the recipe to the letter...
Being vegetarian, I already had to improvise! I'd never eaten or cooked with veggie bacon before so I was already a little bit clueless as to what to do.
The muffin tins were a little bit too big, maybe an inch in circumference, for the bacon strips too but I was making six and I had two strips left so I thirded the remaining ones and just slotted them in - it worked pretty well!
The granary bread circles were made with scone cutters - the smallest one I had was just perfect. And all in all, bread, bacon, and egg, everything fitted as though it'd been made for muffin cups! When I brought them through to the bf, they were a hit too and I was proclaimed a culinary genius.
I'll definitely be trying them again!
I'll post a photo up in a bit. They're so cute!
As for the rest of today, work was dullllll. There was, of course, the dreaded christmas music and I had a headache within half an hour. Then there was security alarms going off all over the place, and a police visit for something unrelated, and then shouting people, and a fire alarm drill. For a six hour shift it dragged... When my break eventually arrived, I realised that I'd lost the money that I'd brought with me - I was either going to buy lunch or a bus ticket home. I decided on lunch but then it didn't matter in the end since I had the change for a banana and had to walk home anyway.
Hopefully tomorrow's shift will be better!
Being vegetarian, I already had to improvise! I'd never eaten or cooked with veggie bacon before so I was already a little bit clueless as to what to do.
The muffin tins were a little bit too big, maybe an inch in circumference, for the bacon strips too but I was making six and I had two strips left so I thirded the remaining ones and just slotted them in - it worked pretty well!
The granary bread circles were made with scone cutters - the smallest one I had was just perfect. And all in all, bread, bacon, and egg, everything fitted as though it'd been made for muffin cups! When I brought them through to the bf, they were a hit too and I was proclaimed a culinary genius.
I'll definitely be trying them again!
I'll post a photo up in a bit. They're so cute!
As for the rest of today, work was dullllll. There was, of course, the dreaded christmas music and I had a headache within half an hour. Then there was security alarms going off all over the place, and a police visit for something unrelated, and then shouting people, and a fire alarm drill. For a six hour shift it dragged... When my break eventually arrived, I realised that I'd lost the money that I'd brought with me - I was either going to buy lunch or a bus ticket home. I decided on lunch but then it didn't matter in the end since I had the change for a banana and had to walk home anyway.
Hopefully tomorrow's shift will be better!
Veggie Bacon and Egg Muffins
This is what I intended to write about last night. Well, this morning. Whenever. That last post was supposed to be about this:
Bacon and Egg Muffin Cups, Veggie Style!
I've see these floating around the internet a lot in the last few months. They seemed sort of revolutionary and obvious at the same time - especially with the internet's obsession with bacon.
I honestly don't know how that obsession is a thing, I mean, bacon's great and all but it's not that great... Don't tell anyone I said that!
I found this recipe on Cooking Whims.
Basically, you put circles of bread in a muffin tin, wrap some bacon around the cup bit and then fill the space in the middle with an egg. Cook the whole lot for 10-15 minutes and serve. Voila! Egg and Bacon Muffin Cups!
Now a few of you might notice a problem here. My partner and I are vegetarian. Bacon isn't vegetarian - shocking, I know. What I did buy though was Quorn bacon. Now I've never had it before but apparently it tastes reasonably similar to the meaty bacon. So I'm going to give these muffins a shot. By the time that this blog gets to the internet, we'll have eaten them, for better or worse and I'll be able to review them tomorrow night after work. I'll try to reign in my christmas related anger after work tomorrow so that I can write happily about the muffin cups. Maybe I'll do some yoga before I blog...
Clearly I should do yoga before I blog anyway - then I might appear wholesome and well-adjusted rather that batshit insane...
Anywayyyyy!
I'm off to make bacon and egg muffin cups! If you make them, or make a variation of them, let me know how it goes!
Gym Times!
It's decided. I prefer the gym to people.
*There's quite a bit more profanity in this than I would usually use. You've been warned.*
I don't even particularly like most of the people at my gym right now.
Granted that's because I don't know them and I've only been going a few weeks and they all seem like scary, steroid-filled meatheads but still: they're preferable to most of the irl people I know. As a side note, it took me no less than seven attempts at writing 'irl' there - my mac kept correcting it to 'url'... Clearly it's not hip on the lingo at the moment. Anyway...
I've come to the realisation that most of the people I know irl just bring me down and burden me with all their shit. I am so over that. I mean come on, I'm sick of being everyone's go to girl when they're bitching and moaning about things that they could have prevented. I'm not going to go into specifics but I'm sure you get the idea.
I love helping people and being there for people but I sort of expect the same liberties. I mean if I'm having a shitty day, I want them to take five minutes out of being so wrapped up in their own problems to help me out. Of if my meds are fucking me up - I need to be able to talk about that crap. What I most certainly do not need is my so called friends to get all uncomfortable and change the subject as soon as possible. Or talk over me. Or stop talking to me at all. Or conveniently forget that we were supposed to be meeting up.
None of that. None of that shit. I'm done. What I want, what I need, is people who are going to help me. People who are going to cut me a break when I need it or, hell, even when I don't need it - just when I want it!
I'm sorry, I really am, about all the rants in the posts this week. I've just been realising a lot about myself. I haven't been taking as many propranolol as directed either - I keep forgetting - but to be perfectly honest, I think I'm coming across some fairly ground-breaking realisations about myself right now. I'm supposed to take 3 per day but they were making me really tired and even 2 a day was slashing my energy levels. Right now I'm taking 1-2 per day when I remember and I'm feeling so much better.
I'm still having really depressive days when I just can't shift the cloud. And times like yesterday I just burst into tears for no reason. Yesterday I was tense and paranoid and worried about everything and then I went to the gym and within 30 minutes I was perfectly fine. It's like freaking magic!
Then I go on Facebook (the devil in disguise) and within seconds I'm freaking miserable. I realise that I really, really don't like most of them! I don't really care about most of the ones that I haven't spoken to in months. Or who haven't made an effort to talk to me.
In fact, as of writing that last paragraph, I've gotten rid of like a fifth of my 'friends' on Facebook. Any people whose names were met with 'who the fuck are they?' or 'I'm sick of their shit.' or 'I haven't spoken to them in x years and I can't see me actually talking to them again.' have gone. I could get rid of more but I kept a few for nostalgia like school friends and the like.
I'm feeling slightly better already. I like that I've realised that my own health is important. I needed that. Especially after this summer. I don't really know what's triggered it, I think I just feel as though it's time now, to look after myself and to take care of myself until I'm better.
I love, love, LOVE the gym.
I mean, I kinda hate it when I'm sitting in bed on the internet and I know that I need to go and put on some pants (yes, underwear, not trousers - over-share, I know) and some real clothes and brush my hair and drag myself up the street to the gym where all the scary men are. But once I've done my warm up and I've started my first rep everything else just melts away.
When I'm there it becomes my form, my technique, the weight I'm lifting and how much it does (or doesn't) burn when I'm finishing my last rep. I know that I'm overweight, I don't feel any less self-conscious about my fat rolls there than anywhere else but at least, when I'm there, I can say: 'Well, fuck you all, haters, at least I'm working on it.'
At least I've gotten my ass out of bed and into some moisture control trousers and into the gym.
And hell, this emotional benefit? I've never felt that before! Not really, anyway. I get it from yoga but it doesn't last long really. I didn't get it from karate in the later years - I mostly hated it all the time. I resented the fact that I didn't get the chance to learn. I resented the people, my instructor, all of it. I sort of got it from running but I think, mentally, I wasn't in as good a place then as I am now - I put myself down way too much to get a buzz from anything.
My diet's still pretty sucky. I could be doing that a lot better and, surprise, surprise, I guilt-trip myself about that too but it's better than it was! Apart from tea tonight. That's going to be a massive cheat...
I've decided though, that I'm going to be bad ass. I'm going to be strong and, maybe not ripped per se, but I'm going to have 'dat ass'. The ass of squats and the body of weight training. Fuck cardio workouts. Well not really. They have their uses but my workouts mostly concern of less than 10 minutes of cardio to warm up, then around 45 minutes of weights, then 10-20 minutes of cardio to cool down again.
I'm going to be military grade fit again because frankly, I owe it to myself. I don't deserve to be fat and miserable and unhealthy. Fuck that shit. All of it. Nope.
Boom inspiration! God knows where all that came from... It's true though. And this isn't going to be one of those 'does it for a month and then never again' things. This is it, baby.
*There's quite a bit more profanity in this than I would usually use. You've been warned.*
I don't even particularly like most of the people at my gym right now.
Granted that's because I don't know them and I've only been going a few weeks and they all seem like scary, steroid-filled meatheads but still: they're preferable to most of the irl people I know. As a side note, it took me no less than seven attempts at writing 'irl' there - my mac kept correcting it to 'url'... Clearly it's not hip on the lingo at the moment. Anyway...
I've come to the realisation that most of the people I know irl just bring me down and burden me with all their shit. I am so over that. I mean come on, I'm sick of being everyone's go to girl when they're bitching and moaning about things that they could have prevented. I'm not going to go into specifics but I'm sure you get the idea.
I love helping people and being there for people but I sort of expect the same liberties. I mean if I'm having a shitty day, I want them to take five minutes out of being so wrapped up in their own problems to help me out. Of if my meds are fucking me up - I need to be able to talk about that crap. What I most certainly do not need is my so called friends to get all uncomfortable and change the subject as soon as possible. Or talk over me. Or stop talking to me at all. Or conveniently forget that we were supposed to be meeting up.
None of that. None of that shit. I'm done. What I want, what I need, is people who are going to help me. People who are going to cut me a break when I need it or, hell, even when I don't need it - just when I want it!
I'm sorry, I really am, about all the rants in the posts this week. I've just been realising a lot about myself. I haven't been taking as many propranolol as directed either - I keep forgetting - but to be perfectly honest, I think I'm coming across some fairly ground-breaking realisations about myself right now. I'm supposed to take 3 per day but they were making me really tired and even 2 a day was slashing my energy levels. Right now I'm taking 1-2 per day when I remember and I'm feeling so much better.
I'm still having really depressive days when I just can't shift the cloud. And times like yesterday I just burst into tears for no reason. Yesterday I was tense and paranoid and worried about everything and then I went to the gym and within 30 minutes I was perfectly fine. It's like freaking magic!
Then I go on Facebook (the devil in disguise) and within seconds I'm freaking miserable. I realise that I really, really don't like most of them! I don't really care about most of the ones that I haven't spoken to in months. Or who haven't made an effort to talk to me.
In fact, as of writing that last paragraph, I've gotten rid of like a fifth of my 'friends' on Facebook. Any people whose names were met with 'who the fuck are they?' or 'I'm sick of their shit.' or 'I haven't spoken to them in x years and I can't see me actually talking to them again.' have gone. I could get rid of more but I kept a few for nostalgia like school friends and the like.
I'm feeling slightly better already. I like that I've realised that my own health is important. I needed that. Especially after this summer. I don't really know what's triggered it, I think I just feel as though it's time now, to look after myself and to take care of myself until I'm better.
Back to the original point!
I love, love, LOVE the gym.
I mean, I kinda hate it when I'm sitting in bed on the internet and I know that I need to go and put on some pants (yes, underwear, not trousers - over-share, I know) and some real clothes and brush my hair and drag myself up the street to the gym where all the scary men are. But once I've done my warm up and I've started my first rep everything else just melts away.
When I'm there it becomes my form, my technique, the weight I'm lifting and how much it does (or doesn't) burn when I'm finishing my last rep. I know that I'm overweight, I don't feel any less self-conscious about my fat rolls there than anywhere else but at least, when I'm there, I can say: 'Well, fuck you all, haters, at least I'm working on it.'
At least I've gotten my ass out of bed and into some moisture control trousers and into the gym.
And hell, this emotional benefit? I've never felt that before! Not really, anyway. I get it from yoga but it doesn't last long really. I didn't get it from karate in the later years - I mostly hated it all the time. I resented the fact that I didn't get the chance to learn. I resented the people, my instructor, all of it. I sort of got it from running but I think, mentally, I wasn't in as good a place then as I am now - I put myself down way too much to get a buzz from anything.
My diet's still pretty sucky. I could be doing that a lot better and, surprise, surprise, I guilt-trip myself about that too but it's better than it was! Apart from tea tonight. That's going to be a massive cheat...
I've decided though, that I'm going to be bad ass. I'm going to be strong and, maybe not ripped per se, but I'm going to have 'dat ass'. The ass of squats and the body of weight training. Fuck cardio workouts. Well not really. They have their uses but my workouts mostly concern of less than 10 minutes of cardio to warm up, then around 45 minutes of weights, then 10-20 minutes of cardio to cool down again.
I'm going to be military grade fit again because frankly, I owe it to myself. I don't deserve to be fat and miserable and unhealthy. Fuck that shit. All of it. Nope.
Boom inspiration! God knows where all that came from... It's true though. And this isn't going to be one of those 'does it for a month and then never again' things. This is it, baby.
Friday, 6 December 2013
15 Things That You Just Don't Say To Depressed People.
1. "What have you got to be depressed about?"
Someone said this to me once. He was the chief instructor at the karate club that I taught at. He then mocked me in front of the entire club at a grading. How professional... Needless to say, I haven't been back since.
2. "But you've got it so easy!"
Yeah, my life must seem pretty cushty when you compare it to other things but that's not really the point here.
3. "Why are you depressed? You're young!"
Why is age a factor? How the fuck are you to judge that?
4. "Tell your doctor that you don't need those drugs."
Well I would love to be able to tell my doctor that. Unfortunately, I've tried going without them: I had horrifying, mind-bending hallucinations, ridiculous paranoia and nearly had a full mental breakdown. I'm going to wait until they tell me that I can reduce my dose/stop taking them. Thankyouverymuch.
5. "Tell your therapist that she doesn't know what she's talking about."
I think you don't know what you're talking about.
6. "Just cheer up." "Just snap out of it." "Pull yourself together." "Get a grip."
Oh shit, man, I never thought of that! Holy crap, you have just revolutionised my life.
7. "I was depressed once."
I can't even think of something to write here. That's nice? I dunno...
8. "Why are you so miserable?"
Oh I dunno... Maybe it's just because my brain is chemically imbalanced in some way through no fault of my own - usually it's relating to how I was bullied horrifically as a child. I just can't get those negative voices out of my head now that I'm all grown up.
9. "What are you crying about now?"
Honestly? Fuck knows. I'm just really fucking sad and everything - yes, every single goddamn thing - is bothering me/making me paranoid/upsetting me. I can't control it. I can guarantee it's more annoying/scary for me than it is for you.
10. "Well [x, y and z] bad things have happened to me and I'm not depressed."
Congratulations? Well done? What do you want me to say? What are you trying to do? Are you trying to make me feel worse because that's what's happening here...
11. "You're just weak."
Thank you. Truly, thank you, so much, for that. That's exactly what I needed right now - some heartless scumbag making me feel even more worthless.
12. "You must be so brave."
This is an odd one. It usually just makes me really uncomfortable. Is it big headed to agree? Am I being ungrateful if I disagree? Ugh just smile and nod, Sarah, accept the compliment in a noncommittal way...
13. "It must be nice."
What must be nice? Hating myself? Feeling worthless? Having no energy whatsoever? Constantly putting myself down? Being heavily reliant on medication? Yeah, it sounds like a ball. Who knows what I'm always so down about...
14. "Why would you ever want to kill yourself?!"
Wow, you honest to god really just asked me that? I'm not even... I can't even... None of the things that I want to say will organise themselves into words right now - that is how angry I am. I think I'll just stab you instead. Thanks for your judgement though. Your opinion has been noted.
15. "What's it like when you're depressed?"
Fucking horrible. I'm still human though - I can still work and clean and look after myself most of the time. I get that you're curious but you could just ask the internet before you offend someone.
These are all things that friends, co-workers, family members etc have said to me. Unfortunately, those aren't the responses I gave at the time. Nor are they really what I felt at the time either, to be honest. At the time, I tended to just be so confused/angry/upset that my ever-so-pleasant persona came over me and I answered kindly, as if talking to a curious and mildly offensive child. Or gave a sympathetic response. One of the two.
There was one occasion when I'd reached the end of my rope and I responded with: "Well, I guess when I tried, and failed, to off myself this summer, I figured that I should probably keep going to therapy and taking my meds. I think they're probably right about my depression..."
Sorry for the second rant - this wasn't deliberate, I'm just feeling cantankerous, I guess. Christmas and all that...
Someone said this to me once. He was the chief instructor at the karate club that I taught at. He then mocked me in front of the entire club at a grading. How professional... Needless to say, I haven't been back since.
2. "But you've got it so easy!"
Yeah, my life must seem pretty cushty when you compare it to other things but that's not really the point here.
3. "Why are you depressed? You're young!"
Why is age a factor? How the fuck are you to judge that?
4. "Tell your doctor that you don't need those drugs."
Well I would love to be able to tell my doctor that. Unfortunately, I've tried going without them: I had horrifying, mind-bending hallucinations, ridiculous paranoia and nearly had a full mental breakdown. I'm going to wait until they tell me that I can reduce my dose/stop taking them. Thankyouverymuch.
5. "Tell your therapist that she doesn't know what she's talking about."
I think you don't know what you're talking about.
6. "Just cheer up." "Just snap out of it." "Pull yourself together." "Get a grip."
Oh shit, man, I never thought of that! Holy crap, you have just revolutionised my life.
7. "I was depressed once."
I can't even think of something to write here. That's nice? I dunno...
8. "Why are you so miserable?"
Oh I dunno... Maybe it's just because my brain is chemically imbalanced in some way through no fault of my own - usually it's relating to how I was bullied horrifically as a child. I just can't get those negative voices out of my head now that I'm all grown up.
9. "What are you crying about now?"
Honestly? Fuck knows. I'm just really fucking sad and everything - yes, every single goddamn thing - is bothering me/making me paranoid/upsetting me. I can't control it. I can guarantee it's more annoying/scary for me than it is for you.
10. "Well [x, y and z] bad things have happened to me and I'm not depressed."
Congratulations? Well done? What do you want me to say? What are you trying to do? Are you trying to make me feel worse because that's what's happening here...
11. "You're just weak."
Thank you. Truly, thank you, so much, for that. That's exactly what I needed right now - some heartless scumbag making me feel even more worthless.
12. "You must be so brave."
This is an odd one. It usually just makes me really uncomfortable. Is it big headed to agree? Am I being ungrateful if I disagree? Ugh just smile and nod, Sarah, accept the compliment in a noncommittal way...
13. "It must be nice."
What must be nice? Hating myself? Feeling worthless? Having no energy whatsoever? Constantly putting myself down? Being heavily reliant on medication? Yeah, it sounds like a ball. Who knows what I'm always so down about...
14. "Why would you ever want to kill yourself?!"
Wow, you honest to god really just asked me that? I'm not even... I can't even... None of the things that I want to say will organise themselves into words right now - that is how angry I am. I think I'll just stab you instead. Thanks for your judgement though. Your opinion has been noted.
15. "What's it like when you're depressed?"
Fucking horrible. I'm still human though - I can still work and clean and look after myself most of the time. I get that you're curious but you could just ask the internet before you offend someone.
These are all things that friends, co-workers, family members etc have said to me. Unfortunately, those aren't the responses I gave at the time. Nor are they really what I felt at the time either, to be honest. At the time, I tended to just be so confused/angry/upset that my ever-so-pleasant persona came over me and I answered kindly, as if talking to a curious and mildly offensive child. Or gave a sympathetic response. One of the two.
There was one occasion when I'd reached the end of my rope and I responded with: "Well, I guess when I tried, and failed, to off myself this summer, I figured that I should probably keep going to therapy and taking my meds. I think they're probably right about my depression..."
Sorry for the second rant - this wasn't deliberate, I'm just feeling cantankerous, I guess. Christmas and all that...
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