I think there needs to be a support group established for people for when they finish watching Battlestar Gallactica. Not least because after the final episode you are likely to be found dead, face down and drowned in a pool of your own tears, but also because, like…what the fuck do you do with your life?
Life after Gallactica is empty and nothing will fill the void. It’s been a year now, and I still can’t hear ‘All Along the Watchtower’ without erupting into an emotional thunderstorm. WHY.
I had a panic attack driving home from work this evening and straight up felt like steering that shit right into a wall at 70mph. I came home in a total state and felt utterly alone for hours.
Now I’m listening to Dave Grohl and Taylor Hawkins sing “Come Together”, and my life is good again. It’s the little things, man.
Oh, by the way, I’m back guys.
Hi girls and boys!
This is just to let y’all know that I’m going to be disappearing for about a month while I get down to writing my writing my dissertation which is due in 5 weeks. (Fuck).
I have ridiculously low will power when it comes to being online and I’ll literally sit on Tumblr for hours whilst avoiding work. Right now I can’t afford to be silly with my procrastination so Adam is going to be my Tumblr keeper and change my password so I can’t get in. Coincidentally, if my blog is sudden covered in Batman and nebulas (nebulae?) then he’s clearly taken over. So for now, but not forever, farewell!xx
I’m so bored of Tumblr now, so I think I might delete it. However if anyone would like to remain in contact, my Twitter username is @kerrypoppins, and I’m still knocking about on Facebook (message me).
It’s been a blast, Tumblr :) x
Finally got around to reading all of Caitlin Moran’s How To Be A Woman today. There are things I don’t agree with, and a hell of a lot that I do; such is the beauty of feminism. However this bit made me cry. I want to hug Pete Paphides. Did it have the same effect on anyone else?
Pete looks like shit…His eyes are filled with tears, he can only look at me like I am going to die, and he is going to miss me more than he could ever explain.
‘Pete’, I say, putting my hand out to him. It has a drip in the back of it. Pete looks scared to touch it.
‘Everything they did hurt you’, he said, and started crying. Really awful crying, with his mouth all liquid, strings of spit between the lips. ‘I couldn’t do anything. Every time I thought it was going to get better, they just did something that made you worse. When they put that thing in your back [the first of three failed shunts for the epidural] they were saying the pain would would - but it went in wrong and you screamed, and wet yourself. They ran with the trolley down the hall. You were making this terrible sound.’
1. People in my hometown need to stop breeding. This place is getting more and more overpopulated and icky each time I come back to visit.
2. On Monday I’m totally going to the open mic and bashing out an acoustic version of Hey Johnny Park.
3. Being fat is awesome because if you walk with a bit of a spring in your step, your boobs bounce and life is fabulous.
4. I’m enjoying wearing shorts.
5. I’m totally going to get some carrot cake.
I’m all for not being ashamed of periods, but sweet baby Jesus mother of Yoda they hurt like a bitch, and I do not have to like the fuckers.
There has been pain, there has been sickness, today I am green and I am shaking and for some fucking reason feel compelled to not let my friends down by dragging my ass to town to see them. If I drop down anaemic and dead, I hope they all feel real bad.