Balancing act

The past week or so has been...frustrating. I think maybe that's the best way to describe it. I'm frustrated at myself, at things I can't control, at people around me. And I don't like it. I feel like I'm backtracking on the progress I'd made. I'm hoping that a lot of it is hormonal, and that that is at least some explanation for how emotional and out of control I've been feeling. But that's not really much consolation, to be honest. I don't like how I feel, or how I'm acting, or how I'm thinking. I feel like I'm slipping back towards being that person I don't like anymore. I've been irrationally angry, hurt, emotional and felt completely powerless. I've felt like I have no idea which turn to take next - that I can't trust my judgement. Sometimes, I can't even make a decision - I literally have no idea which way to go.

Balance, as I've mentioned before, is something I'm not good at. And that's been a big factor for me lately. When I was feeling dark and low before, I would often think that I might be best to give up on a lot of things - that the hope was what was keeping me down. Maybe I needed to get rid of those things (even if they had at times made me very happy and very 'me') from my life, just accept that things are shit, and move on. But that's defeatist, self-deprecating and non-productive. It's cutting my nose off to spite my face. I know that. And yet...

I know that the bigger thing to do is to try to find a balance with these things. Some sort of middle ground where I'm not living in some sort of fantasy about things, where I'm being realistic but still actively trying to make things better. But I really find that difficult. In the abstract like that, it sounds perfectly plausible and reasonable but when it comes to the crunch I honestly don't know what's the right answer. It's more than just being afraid or unsure or scared of the hard work. I genuinely do not know what will be best for me, sometimes.

Whilst this does apply mostly to one particular area of my life at the minute, I'm being deliberately vague for a couple of reasons. First of all, I'm a bit sick of the sound of my own voice (in my head, anyway) going on about this particular problem. I need a bit of a break from it, but at the same time needed to get it off my chest a bit. And secondly, while there's one particular thing in the front of my mind when I write about this balance thing, I know that it applies to lots of other things. It's something I really need to work on generally. But I really feel quite lost and frustrated about how to do that, when I'm having so much trouble with trusting my own judgement. And my still being quite tired and not fully recovered from being sick is making me make excuses for myself to just lie around and do nothing, and end up getting upset about things. Which is obviously not helping.

Anyway, this has been an even more rambly post than normal, for which I apologise. I will endeavour to get back on track soon, particularly with the recapping/reviewing. I've been horribly lazy about that stuff recently, which I must sort out in the next week or so. I've decided to have a go at live blogging The X Factor (since I'm still on a Twitter hiatus), so I can only apologise in advance for what Saturday night will bring!

Addicted to misery?

Well. That was a slightly longer hiatus than I intended. It seems that my body chose almost the exact moment that I handed in my final assignment (well, the exact day anyway) to have me come down with the mother of all colds. And of course I've been way too busy at work to even contemplate taking proper time off to get better, so I've been shuffling and snivelling along as best as I could. Finally starting to feel a bit better, but still really tired. Which has been fairly fatal for my motivation and energy levels. I was so looking forward to getting my course over with so that I could get started on the million of other things I want to do, then I have to take to my sick bed. Typical!

What's also typical is that I'm writing this when I should be working. In fairness, it's after 9pm at night and I'm at home so I really shouldn't *have* to be working, but there you go. It's just one of those weeks and my lack of productivity due to this lovely lurgy I've had has gotten me really far behind.

But anyway. None of that is remotely interesting or informative, unless you had a desperate desire to know what's up with my work schedule and immune system. And frankly, if that is the case, I think you might need a little more help than reading this blog can possibly give you.

I've had a post floating around my mind for the past week or so. I'm still not sure if I'm ready to write it, but I guess we'll see by the end of this.

It's occurred to me lately that my depression and anxiety issues have a lot in common with addiction, for me at least. I've been thinking about how come I've changed now; how come I've had this revelation, this clarity now and not before? Or later? And is it just sheer luck - do you just have to sit around waiting for this revelation to hit? It seems to me that it's a lot like when addicts reach that last straw, their rock bottom or whichever other cliche you choose to use, that finally makes them want to change and gives them the strength to be more successful with change than they were before.

But the problem with that is that it suggests that it's up to the fates to decide when that moment is. That doesn't seem quite right.  Or fair. But I honestly don't know why I came to my sense now instead of years ago. I know that I had a bigger wake up call than I've had in a long time - someone was incredibly honest with me and (after hours of crying and wailing) that somehow finally made me see things more clearly. It made me realise how much of my life I was wasting, how many opportunities were being ruined and how this would never change if I didn't change.

But I have no idea how anyone else is supposed to get to that moment. Part of the reason that this has been floating around my head was that I was wondering if maybe I should consider doing some sort of voluntary work within the mental health/counselling sector. I have no idea if I'd be any good at it, as I'm not generally a very touchy feely sort of person, but I feel like I'd like to make my experiences count for something. But if having this sort of moment of clarity is so arbitrary, what could I really do for someone?

And whilst I'm talking about this in terms of addiction, it brings up the whole idea of balance. I've never been very good with balance - always been all or nothing. That's part of the perfectionist trait in me, I suppose - that it's completely perfect, or it's completely shit. No in betweens. But this is more like an eating disorder than an alcohol or drug addiction - I may have gotten addicted to misery to some degree, but I can't avoid negative emotions anymore than an anorexic can avoid food. So I have to find some way to balance things. To know when it's ok to be upset, and let myself feel that, and when enough is enough.

I've been struggling a little with that lately. Being sick but having so much to do at work wiped me out, and now I'm finding it hard to get out of that 'just make it home and crawl into bed' phase, even though I'm mostly better by now. It's been too easy to slip back into old habits of spending the entire night in various states of consciousness in front of a tv and/or computer screen.

And there's lots of other things where I find it hard to find some acceptable balance. I shan't go into all of that now, because I don't have the time (and this post has been in my drafts folder for far too long), and I don't really have the mental energy for it either. I'm finding less impetus to think or write about what's going on in my head. I can't quite figure out if that's part of the post-cold laziness, or if I'm getting sick of talking about it, and whether either of those is a good thing or a bad thing.

All in all, that's a rather meandering, pointless post, for which I apologise. I have funner posts in the works but I apparently now have a slightly busy weekend ahead of me involving hyperactive children, so it may be a while before those come to complete fruition. In the meantime, I'm thanking the big spaghetti monster in the sky that it's Friday and I'm gonna enjoy the hell out of this Wispa that's been in my office drawer for two days. It's the little things, y'know?

Back.

Well, I've been MIA for a few days. Real life got in the way for a little bit there, but I'm now course-free, just about getting caught up on my sleep, and ready to commence normal service. A-woo-hoo indeed. I've got a few blog posts in the offing, which I hope to get up later this evening/tomorrow. Maybe committing to that here will make me actually do it! Although I have finished that box of Cadbury's Fingers, so it's not like I've anything better to do at home now...

Panic stations...

Hmm. Today is not fun so far. I was out of the office yesterday for a course that I'm doing (for work) and apparently a client came on complaining that they hadn't received something they should've gotten ages ago. Now, the client is perfectly entitled to feel annoyed about this - it's something that slipped my mind. I had been working on it, then I got sick and some other drama reared its head, and it completely slipped off my radar. My fault.

However. I am also the only person in my department. There used to be 3 of us, then 2, then one part time person as well as me, and now it's just me. And we have more work than ever before. I have been trying to point out just how impractical and unsustainable this is to my boss, but being the sort of person that I am, I'm not great with confrontation so I've obviously not been making myself clear enough. I've also been stupid enough to just work all the hours in the day to get things done, and the more that I do this, the more my boss expects it of me.

So the story today is that he doesn't seem to be too happy with me that things have slipped behind, despite my telling him repeatedly that things were behind, and that I was doing my best, but there's only so many hours in the day. And I don't get paid for all that many of them. Therefore, I'm feeling much more anxious and panicky today than I have done in a while. I am trying hard not to get overwhelmed, or to fall apart, and just take deep breaths and concentrate on what I need to do. But I'm very nervous about having to talk to my boss about all of this. It's an inherent part of my nature - I've always been a good girl, who does things by the rules and never gets in trouble. And now I feel like I'm being called into the headmaster's office to be shouted at.

It has also been an inherent part of my nature up until now to feel responsible for everything and to feel like I have to try to fix everything. But that just is not working anymore. I have to try to be strong to just do the work I'm getting paid for and not keep giving into the pressure, but also to make that clear to my boss so that he is aware of my workload.

This is a bit of a meh post, I know, I just find it helpful to write this out to try to keep myself calm instead of getting worked up about it.

Heartbroken, but not broken.

I've not really written anything about my head or anything head-adjacent for a few days, so I thought maybe it was time to have a quick check in. Writing here seems to help me to figure stuff out a bit more, moreso than just sitting around thinking about things.

It's been...an odd few days, to say the least. I've not really been sure if I wanted to talk about this here or not, but I figure it might help. My relationship issues have finally been resolved, in that we broke up. He said it was nothing to do with me, that he just isn't in the right place to be in a relationship right now. Which completely and utterly sucks. But there's not much I can do about that. Which is the really frustrating thing sometimes - I think when I was concerned that things weren't going well because of me and my issues and the way I had been behaving of late, I thought it was under my control at least a little bit. That if I could just convince him of how I'd figured so much stuff out and was determined to change, that things would be ok. But that's not the case.

The hardest thing is that we're best friends. Best, best friends. We were so close before we started going out, and meant so much to each other that neither of us wants to lose that. But it's difficult to figure out how to get used to not being a couple but still being close. I know it will be hard, but as I see it I just don't have an option. I need my best friend. So we'll just have to figure out a way to make it work.

I think I've been doing sort of ok with it, though. Which I am a bit proud of, to be honest. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm still in the spontaneously-bursting-into-tears-at-any-moment stage, and I'm utterly heartbroken. But I think it helps that I'm not mad at him - it was just really bad timing. And I really do believe him when he says that he still wants us to be close friends. I know that our friendship is important to him, and I suppose it probably says a lot about how far I've come that I can believe that even when I'm upset - that I'm not jumping to the worst conclusions and beating myself up. And I've been doing my best to get on with work stuff and work for my course (which will be over in less than 6 days, thank the lord!).

But it's still really, really crappy. I'm just doing what I can to get through each day. If I feel sad and need to cry a little, then I do, but I try to keep a bit of a lid on it so it doesn't get out of hand. I think I always had trouble with that before - knowing what was ok to be upset about, and how upset was reasonable before I started being self-destructive with it. I seem to be making some sort of progress on that front.

It helps a lot that people have been really supportive of me with the stuff that I've been figuring out over the last few weeks since I started posting here again. My friends are proud of me - and he is too, when I explained everything that I've been working through recently - and I feel proud of me too. That helps keep me going. I like this version of me a lot more, and I want to hang onto her and not let her go. I just keep trying to hold onto this vision of the person I most want to be, and not let any "buts" get in the way.

Anyway, that's where I'm at right now. Everything is still hard, and takes work. Especially with things like motivation to do stuff that bores the ass off me (namely most of my job and this course at the minute). But I'm getting there.

Spies 'n' Shit - Spooks S10E01 Review

OMG WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME THAT SPOOKS STARTED AGAIN ON SUNDAY??!!!!

They shouldn't have whispered in the corridor, maybe then I'd have known

I thought it started on Monday - why they thought it would be a good idea to put it up against Downton Abbey is beyond me, but no matter - I can now watch the iPlayer in work (over my lunch hour, natch) so what follows is another stream of consciousness-like review as I watch and shovel spaghetti and meatballs down me.

Anyway. 

Ok, so we've got some old dude looking through papers that mention Lee Harvey Oswald and OMG A GUY IN LEATHER GLOVES IS STRANGLING HIM!!!

First obligatory shot of Harry looking pensively out a window, and now walking along some park. I'm totes gonna pretend I'm in MI5 when I go to London next year. Just for the lulz.

Harry's being followed by a dude on a bike and a youngish dude. He enters a building that seems ot be some sort of old school library? Mmmm, I love the smell of books in the morning! Ooh! He just found a message in a book about someome being in danger, blah blah blah! Spy-citing!!

That's the right show, right? Right? Guys, where'd you go??

Now hes in a car and some dark haired chick we've not seen before is wishing him luck, as he gets and heads to Thames House, I think? to appear at a tribunal. Ruth is sat behind him looking - well, like Ruth always looks. He's arguing that it was more worth saving Ruth than the (useless) Albany technology cos she's still of use to the intelligence community, whereas the Albany doofer was just a hoax. He says it was in the nation's interest to save Ruth. Yeah, in the interest of the nation of shippers.

Harry's been suspended for the last few weeks, but they're going to let him back to work under probationary terms till they decide whether or not to believe him, basically.

There's still someone watching Harry, however, and it's Young Dude. Young Dude with an almost Bieber-esque haircut, who's got lots of surveillance photos of Harry. Ooooh! Aaaaaaand credits.

So far, we've still got Harry and Ruth, obvs, and also Dimitri in the main cast, but I can't see if there's anyone else familiar looking in there.

Post credits, and we've got a CIA dude being all American like, and suspicious of the Brits. And looking pensive, obvs.

There's a lot of this, is what I'm saying.

Now we've got what appears to be a graveyard or summat in Russia. Some Ruskie bad guys want to do something a bit mean to the UK, it seems. And, of course, they have a file on Harry.

Harry's meeting with the Home Sec, who is the person who gave him a stay of execution to allow him back to work. They reference Bin Laden's death and "turmoil in the Middle East" which one assumes refers to the Arab Spring uprisings? Home Sec wants Harry to be diplomatic. Harry is all:

Yay! Resident nerd Tariq is still here, that's nice. I like nerd spies. Always good fun.

Lolz.

The person who was in Harry's job while he was away, Erin someone, is now to be section chief of D section. He's suspicious of her, despite her licking right up his hole. He huffs that she altered his chair. "It took me ten years to get it like that". Oh, Harry. Such a wit. He's going through some papers on his desk, and sees something on a receipt for W Slate & Sons - the same type of receipt that we saw Old Strangled Dude with, and upon which the secret message in the library was left for Harry. Dun-dun-duuuuunnnn, conspiracy afoot!!

He immediately wants to know who processed it, and the guy responsible says that the guy who wrote the message had Alzheimers, had just died, and the message was gibberish. Harry looks a bit upset, gurns that the Receipt Guy is too young, and everyone looks at him like "O NOES U MADE HARRY GO SAD FACE".

Harry then goes and breaks into Old Strangled Dude's house, and sees his pill box sitting there (which the strangler had taken out of the drawer and emptied some of the pills out of when killing him), so Harry calls Tariq to ask for an autopsy on Max Witt (Old Strangled Dude). Harry then noticed a false bottom on one of the drawers (lolz at bottom and drawers there), where he finds a bunch of decoding stuff, and has a flashback to some people kissing. Can't figure out who.

He starts briefing the crew on Max, an old Cold War spy (codename Sharecropper), and tells them that what he's about to tell them goes above their security clearance. Way to make sure you keep your job, Harry. So, he tells them that there's this old KGB bad dude who's now the Minister for something or other in Russia, and his wife was an MI6 asset, codename Toumaline - she was the best Soviet source of the 80s. Harry and the CIA dude we saw earlier turned her, but she was never removed from Russia. Max had told Harry that Tourmaline was in danger, which is v v bad.

See? V v bad.

They start doing some spy shit, checking surveillance, blah blah blah.

Tariq needs a haircut, btw.

So they do some mad computer stuff to identify some guy who they know is a professional who's been hanging around Max's home, do some shit with CCTV and so on, and find out who the guy is. They go to his address, which is basically some hollowed out shell of a shithole, complete with graffiti on the walls and covered up windows, just to give the place a lovely ambience of 'creepy and menacing'. Which is so in this season. They find a laptop which has a 'will blow up if spies find it' device on it, which of course promptly blows up.

Ruth finds out that Bad Russian Dude and his wife Tourmaline creeped out of Russia and into London, without anyone knowing (obvs not a good sign). They think Bad Russian Dude is onto them, and Tourmaline is clearly in a lot of danger.

They're using iPads in the grid, v fancy. New bloke Calum (Receipt Guy) is a dick. He's giving out about Harry, and new girl Erin verbally smacks him upside the head for it. He starts being a douche with Dimitri, asking him if he killed anyone when he was in the SBS. Dimitri replies "Yeah. And d'you know what? I miss it" and gives a very pointed look at Douche Boy. Hee.

Harry didn't want them to go after Bad Russian Dude cos he's all scary and shit, but Erin talks him round. Cut to Dimitri et al conducting surveillance on the Russian couple. They confirm it's def both of them, and plant a tracker on their car. As if bad russian dudes would let anyone that close to their car without busting a cap in their ass. Puh-leez.

So anyway, they've followed the Russians to a meeting with the Home Sec. To which Harry is all WTF?!

Of course, he then creeps up on the Home Sec at night  to scare the shit outta him/ask what he's up to smuggling bad russians into the country. Home Sec says he couldn't tell Harry before now, and that they're getting into bed with the Russians cos the Yanks are being all dicks and what not. Harry is not happy, esp when he finds out that Bad Russian Dude asked for him to be involved in all this stuff personally. Home Sec asks if there's anything he should know about from Harry's past dealings with Bad Russian Dude, Harry lies hilariously obviously and menacingly at the same time. Then takes another of his pensive, pouty lipped drives around London. He has flashbacks to the kissing again - I'm guessing it's him and Tourmaline.

Harry gets home, picks up the post, turns on the lights, etc, and realises someone in his in house. Like a fucking boss, he casually walks in and makes himself a drink while Young Dude is sat at his table with a gun. Young Dude says he didn't think Harry would recognise him....has he hasn't seen him since he was a child!!!!! OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!! Is Harry the baby daddy?!! I am literally like

right now. The kid is called Sasha, he's apparently in the FSB and he knows about his mother being a spy for the west. He is like 'do not want'. Harry's playing it all cool as a muthafucking cucumber, pointing out that Sasha can't kill him, cos other people know, etc etc. He tells Harry he has to sever all ties with Tourmaline or he'll be a very bold boy. Hmph, kids today, eh?

Now it's the next day and Harry is going to meet CIA Guy. They have a lovely wee catch up, but Harry doesn't seem utterly convinced by him. Then again, it's hard to tell with Harry. CIA Guy tells him Langley aren't that fussed about the Brits being involved in the turmoil in the Middle East, and tells him that he knows about the Russia deal, that the Russians aren't to be trusted, and the Yanks aren't too happy about it all. CIA Guy pretends he knows nothing about Toumaline and has had no contact with her, but he's obviously lying.

The gang find some info on the laptop they have blew up that suggests the person who owned the laptop was going to assassinate Bad Russian Dude at some gala thingy or other that he's going to tonight.

Harry and Ruth talk, and it seems that the proof Sasha gave Harry of his mother's spying activities (which suggested that she was still an active agent) was forged - it was made to look like it came from Harry, but it didn't. Someone with access to all his protocols etc posed as him to contact her. This can officially be filed under Not Good. Harry wants to talk to Tourmaline to find out what info she's given the imposter, so he's going to go to the gala and bring Ruth as his plus one, cos he needs help. This is what constitutes a date in Spy Land.

Harry & Ruth 4eva, etc etc

Also at the gala are the rest of the team, doing security for the Russians. Or something. Tourmaline and Harry lock eyes across a crowded ballroom and it gets a wee bit tense. He goes up to talk to her and her bad hubby. Toumaline pretends like she doesn't know Harry, obvs, and goes off with Ruth to get a drink, leaving the boys to talk. Meanwhile, Sasha looks on like the huffy kid he is. Ruth tells Toumaline to go through a certain door at 8.02.

We then see some scary lookking dude beat up someone in a back corridor and steal his clothes, and run off with a gun. Same dude shortly kills one of the security detail. 

The Home Sec comes up to Ruth at the party, and tells her she's awesome and deserves a promotion. Ruth self-deprecates, of course, and Home Sec tells her to think about it. She then spots Sasha looking somewhat nervously in Tourmaline's direction. He hears something amiss with the security woman who's getting killed, he runs into Calum the Douche and tells him that one of their units isn't responding. The one who killed her, a big baldy fella, is now in the ballroom and blocking Toumaline's exit at 8.02, so Ruth creates a diversion for Tourmaline to get out and make arrangements to meet Harry. He tells her she's in danger, and there's more smoochy flashbacks.

The team realise that the assassin is there, and think he's posing as a waiter. Calum and Russian Security guy find the dead Russian Security woman, realise the assassin isn't posing as a waiter anymore, and then all hell breaks loose as they just about manage to stop the assassin from killing the Russian couple in the ballroom. However, they don't catch him and have to chase him through kitchens and corridors in their tuxes and ballgowns. Just like proper spies. Erin finds him, and shoots him before he can shoot her. She looks well suss when she's staring at his dead body. Dimitri comes in and she walks off. Can't tell if her being so suspicious is a red herring or not. Hard to tell, after the whole Lucas North thing they pulled.

Now we've got a British woman on a phone outside the venue telling someone that "Collison's dead. No, no trail. Yes. Otherwise a complete success." as the Russian couple are whisked away under Harry's somewhat perturbed eye. Ooooh, intrigue!

Cut to briefing on the grid, where we learn that the assassin was Marcus Collison, bad guy for hire, who had calls on his phone from Chechnya. Erin's looking weirdly at the photo of Collison on the screen. She's def weird. Or annoying. One or the other. Dimitri tells Calum to give MI6 a full debrief, which Calum semi snootily replies he's already done. Tariq says "You've got to give it to him; he's good. Sort of hate him for it". Dimitri is not convinced. He then goes to make small talk about the spy life to Erin. I'm not entirely clear if he fancies her, or is suspicious of her.

We see Erin enter a house (which we assume belongs to her), where she looks at herself in the mirror. She 's a bit upset and then a little kid comes running out and calls her Mummy. If this is meant to be the big revelation about her, it's well meh.

Late at night at Thames House, Harry is sitting at his desk looking at an old photo of Tourmaline when Ruth comes into him. Cue another of their late night talks, where it's all looks and very little dialogue that actually says or does anything other than make the shippers sigh? Yes and no. Ruth wonders how come Chechnyan war lords would be able to find all the info on Harry's protocols etc to allow them to impersonate him to get to Tourmaline. She wants to know what he's not telling her, and he admits he had a relationship with Tourmaline and that that's the reason she was burnt. Ruth says they need to put Sasha out of action. Harry says they can't. She asks why not? And......Harry tells her he's his son. CALLED IT.

God bless Ireland

I've a couple of things that are half written, but just saw this and thought I'd share - it's a dog surfing competition in County Clare in Ireland. Yes. Dog surfing.

That is all.

Justice is blind.

I am watching Daredevil for the first time. This might be the most hilarious movie of all time. Thus, what follows is a stream of consciousness type review of the movie as I watch it. Probably something better suited to Twitter, but since I'm taking a break from social networking, this will have to do instead.

I love the internet.

Ben Affleck is his usual wooden self, as a blind lawyer who's an ass-kicking vigilante superhero at night. So far, I've gotten to the bit where he meets Jennifer Garner (Elektra Nachos, or something like that), and ends up having a martial arts-off with her in a kids playground, in full daylight and in front of the kids. They can't decide if this is meant to be hilarious, or a deadly serious action sequence. Action has its role in comedy, but you've gotta commit to it, y'know?

Cheesy doesn't even come close. Now, don't get me wrong - I love me some cheese. Big fan of the smelly stuff, big fan. But it's a little bit hard to tell whether or not this movie actually knows that it's cheese.

Also what the hell is up with Affleck's hair in this movie?! I mean, I know the dude is blind but COME ON [/Gob Bluth].

And Colin Farrell as Irish hitman Bullseye who can make a dart out of a paperclip? GENIUS. Farrell is actually a brilliant comic actor, so I have high hopes for his character. And right on cue, he just killed an annoying old lady on a plane by flicking a peanut into her gullet cos she wouldn't shut up. I FRAKKING LOVE THIS MOVIE.

Since this is set in Hell's Kitchen, if there isn't a "can't stand the heat, get out of the Kitchen" like pretty soon, I'm gonna be well disappointed.

This is so much the poor man's Batman, it's hilarious. 

Seriously, is that a wig Affleck is wearing? It cannot be his real hair, it just can't. It's the real MARVEL in this movie. See what I did there, eh? Eh? Ah, my wit is wasted on yous.

And the obligatory 'blind man touches beautiful girl's face' scene. Followed by the 'blind man can somehow see in the rain' scene. Yeah, I dunno what the hell that's about either.

Jon Favreau is typically pretty good. As such, he's a little out of place in this movie.

This whole 'lawyers who only represent innocent people' thing - isn't that sort of against whatever the lawyer version of the Hippocratic oath is? (You can tell I'm well versed on all this legal stuff).

Also, Jennifer Garner's boobs are highly unnatural. And no, I'm not providing a photo of that.

Affleck just promised Garner that nothing bad is going to happen. BUT YOU HAVEN'T SEEN YOUR HAIR, BEN. THE WORST IS ALREADY UPON US.

God love Colin Farrell, he's hamming it up like Peppa Pig out here. He just killed Papa Nachos (What? I can't be bothered looking up the proper spelling) with Daredevil's blind stick thingy. Which the baldy journo starts to figure out belongs to blind lawyer guy, but Elektra can't figure it out even when she's shagged him. Bit dim, her.

It's Papa Nachos' funeral, but I need to pee, so apologise if I miss an important part of the movie while I'm gone.

I'm back, and Kevin Smith is asking if we want to see something really cool. It's the stick that killed Papa Nachos, and the journo just realised that the stick is actually a blind man's white stick. And what's more, he thinks he's seen it before....dun-dun-duuuun!!!

*light bulb*

Bullseye just met with the Big Bad Guy (The Kingpin) who wants him to kill Elektra, I think. I don't know, I wasn't paying all that much attention to be fair. But at the end of this bad guy versus bad guy exchange. Farrell leans in and menacingly grunts that.....he wants a costume. Srsly.

Now Elektra (also a superhero type) is working out with knives and bags full of sand to a rousing soundtrack of Evanescence. Good. Grief.

Now Elektra is kicking Daredevil's ass, cos she thinks he's responsible for her father\s death and obvs doesn't know he's her main squeeze. That, or she's just really had enough of his stupid hair. Who could blame her? She's stabbed him in the shoulder, and can't tell from looking at the lower half of his face from about 4 inches away that he's the bloke she's been shagging. OMG, srsly like.

Elektra goes to do battle with Bullseye, where she throws a big knifey thing at him, he catches it and throws it back. So she catches it. With the palm of her hand sort of getting in the way. Who tries to catch a knife like that, when they have another one in their hand? Pick it up later, love ffs.

Bullseye also seems to like to do card tricks, whipping out an ace of spades from nowhere and slashing Elektra's throat with it a little. "Illusion, Bulleye, illusion!! A trick is something a whore does for money!" Which clearly applies to no one in this film. Nooooo.....

Oh aye, and Bullseye also stabbed Elektra right in the stomach. Oh noes, etc etc.

This whole fight scene in the church between Bullseye and Daredevil (complete with a giant organ that they pull apart to hit each other with, and actual bats in the belfry) is just a tad too mental for me to comment on. I'm literally like:

And what is the deal with this Irish priest? Other than to embarrass the entire Irish nation, between him and Bullseye. I guess he's meant to be something of an Alfred-type character, but that's not really made clear enough. It feels like there might've been a lot of stuff cut out of this (hilarious, given what they left in) that might've helped to develop it a bit. Either that, or I've passed out occasionally from the sheer hilarious-slash-ridiculousness of it all.

So anyways. Daredevil has gone to fight the Kingpin, he smashes something with water in it to help him 'see' better, and he ends up kicking Kingpin in the knee, which makes the huge dude cry like a little girl. I don't get it.

Aw, then we get the scene where Daredevil could deliver the death blow to the Kingpin, but chooses not to cos he's all healed of his vengeance and shit now, which his wee Irish priest will be very pleased about.

And after some boring shit about the Kingpin being arrested by the cops, baldy journo deciding not to reveal the true identity of Daredevil and Elektra leaving a sign for The Terrible Haired One, that's that. Well, apart from a coda at the end where we see Bullseye in a full body cast, being irritated by a fly which he eventually manages to nail to the wall with a syringe despite being basically immobile.

So, there we go. Potential to be hilariously awful, but it gets just a wee bit too boring in places for that. It can't make up its mind if it's trying to be funny, or trying to be serious, and it ends up being a bit like a fallen souffle in the process. Action movies can have very funny scenes in them, and have a great sense of humour - there's plenty of examples of this, especially in the comic book movie genre, but this one just doesn't work. At all. Although, having Ben Affleck in it should've been the first sign. Still, good for a laugh, even if it's not a very well intentioned laugh.

This, however, is a movie I would love to see. It...would....be....in....credible!

Shoppers Anonymous

Weather's a funny old thing, isn't it? A week or so ago I finally let go of any hope of a return to vaguely summery weather, and resigned myself to autumn and winter clothes. So lots of boots, wool coats, knitwear, hats and scarves. Which I really rather like. I am a fan of autumn and winter, because I like getting all wrapped up in wintery clothes and I think they rather suit me. I can rock a Christmas jumper, I'll tell yous that and tell you no more.

And yet here I am bemoaning the weather outside. It's currently absolutely tipping down outside. I wouldn't mind so much, but I can't seem to find a water resistent pair of boots for love nor money, and had I known it was going to be like this today (bloody weather forecasts, never getting anything right...) I'd have brought wellies and a waterproof raincoat. The rather thin and flimsy trench coat I have with me isn't going to do too much against this rain.

I suppose it's the unpredicability I don't like. Which says a lot about me, I now realise. I like to plan and be prepared, and I don't do too well when I can't do so. Which also makes it rather ironic that I can be so lazy and unmotivated to do the things I need to to stop me getting into a panic. But then I suppose that's the fun of being a bit mental, eh?

But back to the weather. The other downside of the changing seasons is that it creates within me an almost primal desire to shop. I never used to be like this - I never used to bother all that much about clothes and buying things. But the last few years I've gotten really desperate for it. It's partly been because my weight has been up and down (mostly up, alas) and therefore half my clothes never fit me at any given time. But that is only part of it. I'm not really sure what the other part is, at all. I don't know if it's rampant consumerism, an increasing superficiality and concern for appearances rising to the surface of my personality, or if I just really, really like pretty things. The fact that this change coincided with my moving approximately a 5 minute walk from most of the shops in my city cannot be a mere coincidence. I tend to wander around the town for a bit when I just don't want to go home right after work, when I want to aimlessly amble around for a bit.

And then there's the online shopping. Oh boy, is that ever a curse and a blessing all at the same time. I rarely buy online, but I use it to browse (and to kill time when I'm a bit bored). Which means that I end up browsing every single damn item that most of the high street shops have. Y'know, just in case. God forbid I should miss out on buying a top I'll probably only wear twice before it either doesn't fit me anymore or I decide I don't like it all that much. In my defence, I don't shop anywhere expensive, I have an eye for bargains and sales, and I don't run up crazy debt to support my shopping habit. There's a lot more browsing and window shopping going on than the kind where actual money changes hands.

In summary, it appears that I am a girl. I'm not entirely sure when that happened....

Busy

Hmm. It seems I haven't written anything in the last day or two. That wasn't intentional, I just somehow was too busy. Well, sort of.

I've been reasonably productive at work this week, which is nice. It's rather satisfying to feel like I'm getting things done and achieving things. Of course, there's still tons left to do, but I've decided that's not my problem anymore. I'm working as best I can in the hours I get paid for - there is literally nothing else that can be expected of me.

I've not been all that productive in other areas, though. I've been coming home and collapsing under the strain of an hour or two spent shopping in town and not really getting much done. This evening I did manage to do some ironing for the first time in I don't even know how long, and put away my grocery delivery. Doesn't sound like much, but it was something.

Still have to get my CV and application form, and my presentation for my course done. I'll get there, though. It's a bit difficult to find the balance between doing absolutely nothing all the time, and trying to be productive. Going from one extreme to the other is obviously not going to work, but I still feel like I'm being rather lazy. But I'm keeping at it and trying to do some things, which has to be better than the nothing I've done every other evening for months.

I also met up with an old friend from university, who I haven't seen for probably a couple of years, this week. Which was really nice. I didn't feel as frustrated as I often have before when trying to catch up with uni friends. I'm not sure exactly why that is. I think it's partly because I'm seeing my life and myself less as something that is to be judged, and more as a work in progress.

This has got to be my dullest blog post yet - I do apologise! It seems like the more I try to think of something interesting to write about, the more my mind resembles a rabbit in headlights. All suggestions gratefully received!

Will you be my friend?

I've always found friendships a bit elusive. Something I desperately hunted after, yet could never quite keep hold of. There are a lot of reasons for that, and I'm sure there are quite a few I've yet to discover. This has been on my mind a bit lately. Relationships of all sort have always seemed to be at the heart of my problems - or at the heart of my hurt, at least. I've carried around the grief of lost friendships and ruined relationships every day of my life. It's heavy, and it taints everything else. Always wondering who's going to reject me next, and when.

I think I'm slowly starting to realise how to let go of that. Some hurts were bigger than others, and will take longer to heal. But I think I'm figuring this stuff out. That other people have their own hang ups and issues, and that not everything has to be about me. And I hope I'm figuring out how to be a better friend to people. To have more patience, to be less selfish, to be more self-reliant instead of trying to make people my crutch. I think that's a mistake I've made a lot over the years - mistaking emotional dependence for closeness. It's incredibly unfortunate that I've realised this too late for some of these friendships, but there you go.

I hope that I can salvage something back from some of them, however. There are a lot of people I've just drifted away from, lost contact with for no real reason. I'm getting back in touch with friends from university with whom I haven't had much contact over the last few years. I think maybe I found it difficult to adjust to our friendships changing as our lives took different paths, but I get that now. I get that we don't have to have the same friendship that we had when we lived together at university and spent 90% of our time together, but that I'd still rather have them in my life than not. I can only hope that they feel the same way about me.

There are other friendships that need repaired, or at least need a service. It's hard to know how to go about doing that sometimes, but I can only try. That's all I can do - be patient, and try.

The Fear.

I've been having some trouble thinking of anything to blog about recently. I've got ideas for scripts that I want to write, but I don't really want to write too much about that here. Not that I think anyone is about to run off with my ideas, but I'd just rather keep all of that contained until I'm ready to unleash it onto an unsuspecting world.

Writing is a funny thing. It's something that I've wanted to do all of my life, yet it's also something that I've struggled with for much of my life. As the saying goes, I don't like to write, I like to have written. And that's not uncommon for successful and talented writers, so I believe. For me, writing isn't this enormous, overpowering passionate endeavour - the sort of thing that it pains me not to do. It's simply the way I communicate and engage with the world. It's not all that dramatic, it's just the way I best express myself (I hope, anyway) and the way my head works. I hope that's a vaguely positive thing for my ambitions to be a writer, I don't really know.

I've always had a bit of a fear about writing as well. I was good at academic writing - really good. And one day, when I finally find my dissertations from uni, I'll throw them up here and prove that. I wasn't any kind of a genius, but I was a good writer when it came to essays and dissertations on arts subjects. But I've always struggled with anything more personal and more creative. There's several reasons for that. A great deal of it is simply laziness and lack of motivation. Part of it is that I don't do well without structure and deadlines imposed externally for this sort of thing. But a really big bit of it is just fear. Fear of failing. I've wanted to be a writer my whole life - what if I try and it turns out I'm shit? Easier to just make excuses about why I can't write, n'est-ce pas?

But I'm sick of that. I'm sick of living in limbo all the time, in some sort of suspended animation. And I've finally realised that it doesn't have to be so all or nothing. A huge part of my problems are that I make everything black and white; all or nothing. It's perfect or it's the worst thing in the world. I'm slowly starting to see that things aren't quite like that. Insert some cliche about life being about the journey, not the destination, here. I don't have to be a perfect writer right now. I don't have to sit down, write the most amazing script in the world, have it commissioned and win a bunch of awards for it. At least, not right now. I need to practice. It's a muscle that needs exercised, whichever part of my brain that deals with the writing end of things. The only way that I'll get to be a good writer is to keep trying and to learn.

And that's how I feel about a lot of things now. I've spent so much of my (adult) life with these ridiculous perfectionist standards. Either it's perfect, or it's shit. No in between, no second chances. But that's just beyond daft. Life doesn't work that way - and nor should it. We have to continually strive to be better, to get better, to learn. To not beat ourselves up for not being the perfect person that we want to be right.this.second, but to keep trying to be the person we want to be. We won't ever reach perfection, but we might at least get to something approaching happy. And that's got to be worth trying, right?

Hmm, this was supposed to be about writing and it ended up being about my head, again. I'm not sure if that's because writing is so tied into my personality, or because I'm in danger of becoming obsessed with the inner workings of my mind. It may not appear obvious, but I truly am trying not to be self-involved with this - I'm trying to be self-aware instead.

Anyway, if any of the two or three of you reading this feel like giving me writing assignments to try to give me some sort of deadline or structure, please feel free! I'm not writing your essays for uni, though. Not without payment, at least.

Best picture EVER. Fact.

This will never fail to cheer me up. It is the single greatest image ever captured for posterity.

This comes courtesy of the most excellent Enemies of Reason blog. Go and read it immediately, it's fantastic.

Lost weekend

I'd like to say it was a lost weekend due to partying hard or something like that, but unfortunately it was just my being lazy and a bit crap. I slept far too much (partly thanks to my neighbours keeping me up till at least 5 or 6am on Friday night/Saturday morning) and just lay around watching tv instead of doing any of the things that I intended to. I'm giving myself a by ball for that one, and I'll get back on track today. Things to do include working on my CV, an application form, and completing my next CBT session.

I think I did slip a little this weekend. The devil makes work for idle hands indeed - all that time spent alone, with my own thoughts, and little else to engage my mind was not that good for me. I was either getting worried about things, or off daydreaming about everything being ok. Neither of those activities are particularly productive. But the important thing is to just accept that, and move on. No point beating myself up for slipping a bit, and getting mad at myself. I'm only human, of course I'm going to slip occasionally. But so long as I don't let it overwhelm me and start to define me again, I think I'm still moving in the right direction.

In other news, it's flipping cold here, thanks to gale force winds courtesy of the tail end of Hurricane Katia. Summer is definitely over, then. I've finally given up hope of us getting a brief blast of summery weather so that I can wear my summer clothes, and I'm embracing the boots, jumpers and coats of autumn and winter. Thankfully, I love winter clothes (especially coats - I think I have an actual problem with coats). And with winter comes Christmas, which I also completely love and get super excited and hyperactive about. Although I'm a tad apprehensive about it this year - all the plans I had for it in my head are now rapidly dissolving alongside my relationship, so it won't be quite what I had hoped. I'm trying not to dwell on that too much, though. Instead, I'm just thinking of the awesome floppy felt hat I saw in New Look recently that I must have. And the one I bought a little while ago that I've not had a chance to wear yet. Apparently hats make me happy.

Anyway, this has been a decidedly random post, for which I apologise. I've got a lot of work ahead of me over the next couple of weeks as my course (finally!) comes to an end, so hopefully after that I'll have a lot more time for proper writing and actually getting into some of the ideas that I've had recently. That should give me October to plan, and November to do NaNoWriMo. If the wind hasn't whisked me away to Oz before then.

Well I did say I like lolcats a lot...

MADE. OF. WIN.

Thinking is hard

Hmm. Last night was a bit of a bust. I was starting to feel a bit low and blank and didn't really know what to do to counteract it. I ended up going for Torchwood and pizza. I think that helped. Probably because Torchwood has gotten so completely ridiculous that it takes your mind off of anything even remotely real.

But the whole daydreaming thing is becoming a bigger and bigger problem for me. It's my go-to for so much - to comfort myself, when I'm bored, when I'm sitting on the bus, when I can't get to sleep. It's really tough to break away from it - I need to fill my head with something else, but I literally don't know what. It's like when someone asks you to tell them a joke - suddenly you can't think of anything. I try to think of things, no matter how random or silly, to fill my head with and nothing happens. It's infuriating. Especially when I'm trying to get to sleep and don't really want to exert my mind too much, because I'm trying to stay sleepy. I think I need to actually *do* more things in the evenings. Last night I was sort of looking forward to having an evening to myself, as I'd had to work the last week or so, but it just left me restless and fidgety.

I think I need to spend more time with other people as well - all this time to myself can't be good for me. But I feel a bit caught between a rock and a hard place where that's concerned. All of my relationship stuff sort of puts me off wanting to be around other people right now as I don't want them to ask about it (nor do I want to lie about it) because I'm really not ready to talk to them about it yet. So I sort of feel like I need to avoid people a bit. But I need the company. Rock - me - hard place.

Anyway, that's where I am at the minute.

Gearing up for a fight

Hmm. Today has been a bit bumpy. I was feeling very under pressure and irritated at work, and because of certain things on my mind I'm starting to get rather anxious and getting that flippy feeling in my stomach - the bad kind. I'm trying not to give into it, I just can't put my finger on what I need to do to get rid of it though. I'm not feeling very clear on anything, I feel a bit fuzzy, if that makes sense. I don't like that. I was getting used to not feeling like that - numb and vacant. I don't want it back plz.

I think working on my CV tonight might help a bit. It might help me regain some sense of control, plus I really do need to set the wheels in motion to get myself a new job. I'll need to take a day soon to make appointments with recruitment agencies and the like, just go round all of them with copies of my CV and get things started. It'll take a while for anything to come of that, so the sooner I get on it the better.

Time is bothering me a bit at the minute too. I'm trying not to focus on regrets or anything like that, but I can't help but wish that all this had happened a few months back, at the start of the summer. But, that's hardly productive thinking so there's no point thinking about it, really.

I feel like I'm really getting into the hard part of this now. It was one thing making the connections and having this big moment of realisation, and the sort of high that carried me on for a few days - but now the stuff that bothers me is starting to rear its ugly head again, and I'm getting more embroiled in the 'fight' aspect of this. I'm still determined, though. And perhaps most importantly - I'm noticing when I'm slipping back a bit, and trying my best not to let it get the better of me. This won't be easy, but I can and will do it. I have to. I've let enough of my life get messed up by it, I won't let that happen again.

...in which I lose my mind listening to local radio.

Oof, things are getting a bit tougher. I'm under a lot of pressure in work today and have literally no idea how to do everything that I need to do in time. I've not really been feeling the stress this much since my whole big revelation thing (really, that sounds so lame, I need a better word for it. Suggestions on a postcard, please!). And there are various irritants that have been bugging me today, but I'm still determined not to give into it. I don't want to slip into bad habits of getting angry and trying to make other people angry on my behalf, or at least try to make them feel sympathy for me. That way madness lies.

Another thing that's been bothering me a little is how much I'm daydreaming. I find it really hard not to. I have a lot of alone time - whether it's when I start getting a little bored with my work (I have my own office so I have to actually get up and go somewhere else to talk to people), sitting on the bus, in bed at night/in the morning when I can't sleep etc etc - it's a lot of time in my own head and I don't really know what I should do about that. What do other people have in their heads in those sort of situations? I genuinely am not sure if what I do is normal or not. I try to come up with things to think about to distract me - dinner, laundry that needs done, what I'm going to wear tomorrow, all that sort of stuff. But almost before I know it my head has wandered onto things that don't do me any good. I've gotten so used to entertaining myself in my head with these sort of daydreams that it's a really difficult habit to break. But I know I need to - it's not good for me, and I am trying.

I hope that these sort of posts don't sound negative/complaining. I'm mostly just trying to work things out by getting them out of me, and I'm trying to just acknowledge my behaviour/thinking, rather than give myself grief for it. I think I'm doing pretty ok on that front so far - I've not been beating myself up about things, just trying to stop when I catch myself doing something counterproductive.

Well, this has been a thoroughly uninteresting post. I guess that's what spending the morning listening to local talk radio does for you. Frankly, I'm just lucky not to be trying to jump off the roof after listening to all this crap. I defy anyone to have to listen to this on a regular basis and not lose at least a little bit of their sanity! I will endeavour to think of something more awesome later on.

Brown paper packages tied up with string...

I really am being a bit trigger happy lately with the oul blogging. My apologies for the rambling - procrastination has been a bit of a problem today for sure. Mostly it's my nerves, I think. There's meant to be a conversation that I'm both desperate for and terrified of sometime this week, and it's all rather up in the air, so I'm a bit more anxious than I have been to date.

But anyway. I mentioned in a previous post about how I'd gotten away from the things that I like and care about, so I thought I'd write a little about what those things are, to help me get back into them. I almost can't remember the things that I like, to be honest. So this will probably be rather stream of consciousness-y and waffly. Mmm, waffles....

I love music. I love it. I live for it; or at least I used to. It's a magical thing to me - I will never understand how people sit down to compose a piece of music, I have utterly no comprehension where that comes from. Well, the good music anyway. It enchants and bewitches me, it moves me and lifts me, it lives inside me. It can make the heart soar and sink at the same time. It truly is one of the greatest things humanity has ever created. I'm in awe of it.

I also love film and TV. I studied media studies at university (not as much of a Mickey Mouse course as everyone thinks it is, although I did write a dissertation on The Simpsons and another on the films of Kevin Smith, so maybe I should just be quiet on that front....) so I've always had a rather academic interest in them. Which isn't to say that I don't have an emotional reaction - that's not true at all. I have such an emotional reaction to really well made drama that I've been purposely avoiding it for a really long time now, because I just couldn't take it. It's been a long time since I've watched anything other than a thriller/action/adventure or comedy type film, unless I had to. I want to change that. And I used to be really good at writing about film because I could analyse it like literature, thanks to basically doing just that at university. I miss writing about something and feeling like I know what I'm talking about.

I love ranting. I realise that may not sound like a particularly positive or attractive aspect of my character, not to mention well random, but I genuinely love a good oul rant about something. Not complaining and bitching (something I have a certain amount of experience in.....*sheepish face*), but having a really well crafted rant. My writing is often at its best when I'm giving off about something that really matters to me. My imagination and vocabulary seem to flow more easily, and I'm funnier. And I like being funny.

And I love lolcats. And getting angry at the Daily Mail. And making bad puns, laughing at other people's puns, sleeping, eating pizza, baking, going on touristy trips, running around London like a megadork with a doll of the Doctor and taking photos in front of the "Tardis" at Earls Court tube station, doing things for other people that they really appreciate, Christmas jumpers, Christmas hats, Christmas decorations, Christmas gift wrapping, Christmas music (ok, basically everything to do with Christmas), dancing like an idiot in sweaty clubs to good music, getting my teeth stuck into a project that I get a kick out of, making my nieces and nephews laugh, getting into fresh sheets in bed with clean jammies and clean hair, the smell of anything baking (even if I grumble about the mess my flatmate made making it), the feeling you get when someone genuinely compliments you, crisp sandwiches, bouncy castles, candyfloss on a stick, looking at pictures of cute animals, getting overawed with a feeling of wonderment at the universe, my hair, how much I made my friend laugh that time I did the Shaft dance from Father Ted, singing my lungs out when no one is home, cake, my yellow bag from Pennys that people always comment on, and the smell of the ocean.

There are a lot of things that make me smile and laugh. I have to remember that more often.

Today, I'm so-so. Increasingly nervous, as I mentioned last night, but still determined to not let it get the best of me. I used to think before that I had to act like I was depressed, to justify the condition or something. I realise now that none of that matters. I don't care who does or does not believe that I genuinely have problems with depression or anxiety or whatever, so I don't need to spend the whole day in tears, or try to fit into some notion of what a sufferer is supposed to look or act like. All that matters now is that I try my damnedest to get better.

I think going to sleep is the most difficult part of the day for me. It's always been when things would play on my mind a lot, and when I would employ the daydreaming tactic the most, to try to comfort me and get the things I didn't want to think about out of my head. It's a struggle not to do that. Hence, it took me hours to get to sleep last night, even though I was up late and had been working most of that time. I tried my best to get my mind onto other things though - listing stuff, coming up with ideas to write about, what time I'd get up at in the morning. Anything at all, so long as it wasn't likely to cause me any kind of consternation to stop me sleeping.

I did come up with an idea that I really want to pursue for a writing project, so that's something. I'm finding I'm starting to have more ideas now. Even if they're shit ones, at least there are ideas - there were none before. My mind just felt so blank and vacent. It's nice to feel like I'm getting my imagination (the productive one, not the one where I imagine that everything will be ok without me doing anything to make it so) and my sense of humour back. I feel a bit more like myself again, and even though I've said I'm trying not to make my feelings of self worth the focus of this, I think those feelings are improving. A little bit, anyway, for today. And that's good enough for right now, I guess.

I'm really curious about how this all comes across to other people who suffer from any kind of depression or anxiety issues - especially anyone who's battled through it. I know it's different for everyone, of course, but I'm just kinda curious to know if what I'm describing seems familiar to other people, or if it's all a bunch of shit.

It might also be evident that my nerves are making me post and write a lot. I just keep feeling like I need to *do* something and work isn't quite keeping my attention. However, I have a lot to get done today, so back to the coalface I go....