The pain of being with a foreigner

October 11

Just to start, my partner is French and is living here with me in England. He’s MY foreigner and I’m his and we like it that way. Actually, he’s my frog and I’m his rosbif. I’m pretty darn happy with a guy who can’t pronounce “don’t” properly and before anyone gets the wrong idea, I LOVE his family. Being serious for a moment (enjoy, it won’t happen again for a while!), I couldn’t have been luckier to have some incredible in-laws. Since we started being together a ridiculously long time ago they have welcomed me as part of the family and been so kind to me and I love every single one of them.

However………. that isn’t to say I haven’t had to endure some dumb and annoying questions, being English so therefore different. I’m sure my frog could write a lengthy post on some of the shit he’s been asked by my family. But as this is my blog (bitch!) I’m going to talk about some of the dumb shit I’ve endured.

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Upcoming horror film series….

March 4

I have always loved horror films. My first experience of something slightly frightening was when I was 5 years old and my 8 year old brother had sneaked the VHS of Robocop into the lounge and put it on. That opening scene, where the robot shot the guy to death, made me laugh so much that I insisted on rewinding and rewatching it over and over until my mum came in to see what was happening and quite rightly went fucking mental.

Now, before you think I am completely fucking warped (only a little I swear), the reason I thought it was funny was because even then I knew it was fake. In my little 5 year old brain, I thought that the fake blood was ketchup and that was amusing to me.

Despite my lack of fear, horror films have always had a special place in my heart. I love the stress, the anticipation and dread of what’s to come. I love to jump and go home and sleep with the light on because I’m scared of what I’ve just seen (this has only happened twice however!). I enjoy reading creepy stories on Reddit and freaking myself out at bedtime.

I have seen many horror films in my life and continue to watch new ones as they come out. It’s for this reason I have decided to write a new series called “Shit Yourself Saturday” (or Sunday if I’m busy) where I talk about classic horror, old and new films, the crappiest to the best. All in my opinion of course!

So join me each week if you dare! And try not to have nightmares ;-)

Freckles

Why driving makes me RAGE!!!!

May 28

Back to the old rant style videos! Let’s ruin my blood pressure a bit and get stuck in to why driving makes me rage and why at least 80% of people should just be banned from the road. As mentioned previously, I am a buddhist, or at least a buddhist in training because no matter how much I know I should have compassion for others, that people aren’t annoying on purpose e.t.c, the moment I get in my car and come face to face with any of the fuckers in this list it all goes out the window and all I feel is hatred and rage! I know that I should look at my mind and see why this triggers me and I probably will but I’m not perfect and right now I need to write this post and spew my venom nonetheless. I’ll take the karma hit on this.

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Honesty, expectations and asking for help? Why are they so hard

April 2

I hope that it is no surprise to you all that I am following on from the last post. In the place I am now, writing about films, games or even books seems pointless, empty and inane when I’m struggling so much to find happiness and heal. So I wanted to talk more about my situation and what I’m finding so hard and perhaps there are those out there who can relate.

Let’s start with honesty. No, I don’t mean to go round telling your boss to shove it up their arse, or tell your girlfriend that her arse really does look big in those jeans. After all, you want to survive! Sometimes holding our tongue can be the right thing. Or how and when we say what we say can be important also. But why is it difficult to be honest about the important things? The only person who knew about how I’ve been feeling, and why, has been my partner and my counsellor. Both these guys have been helping me in their different ways. But I couldn’t bear to tell my parents, my brother and even my friends what is going on, and to date the last two still don’t know yet. It took until I lost my job for me to open up and say how I feel and it was so incredibly hard. But why? As my parents are two people who are supposed to unconditionally love me.

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I am a girl who likes to write. Not particularly about anything informative, just about my life. I write about what I like, what I hate, and anything else I think of that I want to say. I like poetry and renaissance plays, but that is not just who I am. I would like to be a poet, but that does not mean that everything I write will be a poem. It is just a blog for me to take the habit to write, whether it’s poetry, fiction or justĀ  plain bullshit. C’est moi, et c’est tout!



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