Church-burning thundercunts*

*This isn't an athiest rant, I apologise. Church-burning thundercunts just became my new favourite thing.

I've been feeling more hungover than Satan's ballsack because I had my happy pills upped and they've made me go all dopey. I can't concentrate, I can't work fast and I feel so tired it's just unreal.

I was lovingly reminded yesterday by Denny that I'd said I'd go with her to get her ears pierced for the first time and I'm SO glad we went. There is nothing funnier/scarier/more shitshouldIbravethelasermachine? than watching her go all woozy and bleed really dramatically (I'm talking dripping everywhere, running-down-her-neck dramatic) over a lobe piercing.

So so so proud of her though. I was freaking the hell out when I got mine done the first time.

I had a few minutes of absolute childlike euphoria when sat on the piercing bed as it moved around (it can do 360s) and we both walked out feeling spacey and full of metal studs. Denny from her lil' episode (sorry to be patronising my darkling) and me from the freezer fluid.

It was so cool being able to watch a piercing being done without having to be the subject. There's only so much you can pick up from peripheral vision. I ask my piercer (once again, he's mine, you can't have him) again about him teaching me to pierce, and I'm so much more optimistic now than I was before. Just things like being told that he *will* teach me about anatomy, rather than that he *would* teach me *if* he took me on, and when can I *start*?

START?!!! Oh Gawd. Heaven.

The only crap-mound in the meadow of life is that I have to stay at work to pay off the fees. Work don't like piercings, at the studio I'd need to stock up on them.

I don't understand the stigma against piercings. At work the quota is one set of earrings and one small nose stud maximum. No facial piercings, stretches have to be disguised, keep your hair colour normal. Just.. no individualism what so ever.

There's not much you can say through your work uniform. Nicole, Customer Advisor. Looks tired, messy, trousers are dusty, has cuts and bruises all over from working in the stockroom - clumsy.

As it stands, I have bright red messy hair, wear bright orange/purple make up, and don't particularly enjoy being challenged when in comes to being and expressing myself.

I feel awesome today.

Round-up.

So what's been happening around here?

I went to Slovenia for eight days.

I got my exam result (note the singular). I got a U, but it was a high U so it was more like a U* and overall it comes out as a C so I've passed, which really makes no difference to me.

I'm still working on my mum to give me £3000 for body-piercing-training reasons.

I'm back at work. Joy to the fucking world.

And yesterday I gave my nephew a makeover.

I keep having panic attacks, I need my meds taking up a notch.

And finally... The return of the penis pasta.

Dearest Blog-baby.

So I totally forgot my blog's birthday.

3 whole years and I totally forgot.

Happy late birthday, blog-baby!

You more or less count as a blog-toddler now.

Blogmamma xx

Miniature disasters and minor catastrophes.

I'll be honest, I suck at writing about the big stuff that happens, so there probably won't be a Sonisphere recap that is anything other than pictures of me in my festival hat (worship it..), awesome hair and my cool-person shades.

Fig. 1 - all of the above.

I might just leave it at that. Sonisphere was awesome. I met Lacuna Coil (!), I saw Alice Cooper, Iron Maiden and a million other fab bands in one weekend and got pissed off my tits every other night religiously.

Captain! Iceberg ahead!

Ahem.

SURPRISE BONG TENT!

Aaaanyway. This was meant to be a few tidbits of random shizzle that's been a-happenin', so yeah.

I got my seventh, eighth and ninth piercings yesterday. Two helix piercings (upper ear) and a lower naval piercing. I got chatting to my piercer (who is awesome and funny and I love him and OMG SO AWESOME) and he said he'd take me on as an apprentice for three thousand pounds.

That's reasonable I think. It's £1500 for an intensive 11-day course in Oxfordshire. £3000 for three years as an apprentice in my favourite shop in the world where I'll be learning something I love seems too awesome to be true.

And I'm going to Slovenia in four days for exactly one tweeble which looks to be awesome, too.

Alors.. I shall see you when I get back if not before I set off. Adios!

I must stay away. I have enemies. Dangerous, too-sane enemies.

Hola!!

I'm back from Sonisphere and chillin' at Rach's house.

Blogging shall resume when I can form coherent words, because it was THAT good. Delain, Turisas, Europe, Alice Cooper, Lacuna Coil, Papa Roach, Apocalyptica, Tim Minchin, Good Charlotte, Skunk Anansie, Placebo, Motley Crue, Rammstein, Renegades, Madina Lake, Skindred, Dir En Grey, Slayer, Bring Me The Horizon, Alice In Chains, The Cult, Pendulum, Iggy & The Stooges and Iron FUCKING Maiden.

I more or less died of happiness/drunkeness, and THAT is why I cannot blog.

Adios.

New hair.

What do we think?

I went to get it cut and it was a TOTAL disaster so I had a panic attack or two and then went to the supermarket and stocked up on hair dye.

Fuck yeah, red hair.

Sonisphere is in two days and I'm not exactly prepared. The tent is bought but hasn't been set up yet, I've got all the hygiene-stuffs I could ever need, I've stocked up on medicine. I haven't sorted out how I'm getting back yet and I still need to confirm how I'm getting there but once again, my dad is off-site.

GAAAAH.

See you when I get back, assuming I don't explode.

The walls fall down.

None of the remotely cheerful today. I'm not in the mood.

Hey, how are you?

I'm great, thanks, you?

I'm..

..So tired I made myself sleep until 6pm to pass the day. A day filled with nothing. A day that I wanted that way because I'm not just tired, I'm drained mentally, physically and emotionally because *it's* always there, not doing anything, just crushing and draining and demanding.

..So wrecked I burst into tears in the shower. I can only be so happy for everyone else.

..So immobile that I lied and said that I couldn't go to meet with my most favourite people ever because I was shifting furniture. I was sat in my room.

..An awful friend. But not enough to care. Which is where I know that I'm not 'Me' as I want to be anymore.

..Full of hate and anger and frustration and misery that just sits and seethes in all the awkward places. At the back of my neck, in my knees and elbows, under my fingernails, in every pore and joint.

..Sure that I've lost the best thing I had going for me.

..Aware that I've got so much worse that even a dose high enough to soothe pretty severe depression has become 'not nearly enough'. I have to see a psychologist, a doctor and a psychiatrist regularly, which sucks butt because they're looking for stuff that just isn't there.

..Not even bored.

I'm fine, thanks.