Tuesday

In the morning I received my forth book on you know who "Dancing In The Moonlight". Thankfully I didn't have to pay the price I usually see it for. Ten minutes later I had to get ready to go out to see Maya, so thought I'd take it with me to read in the waiting room.
I was made very angry yesterday by the clinic receptionist, due to the women's pure and utter rudeness towards Maya. Maya had come back from her first appointment and went to the receptionist counter to inform her that she also had another appointment (almost right after the first). Well this receptionist decided to pretend Maya was not there even though she was standing as close as can be. She kept typing away and then got up and moved a few files about then went back to her seat and started to type away again. Maya was left standing for what seemed at least five minutes. Then this receptionist had the nerve to pay attention to someone else who walked up (someone that works there) before Maya and then go back to blanking Maya.
My temper was increasing until it got to the point that I had to get up and walk over to Maya, I was just about to knock on the glass and tell the fucking receptionist what I thought of her, or at least demand her to notice Maya. Maybe the silly women sensed this because it was then she finally decided to notice Maya was there. Whatever the case the women was a flaming moron. That kind of behaviour could well stop people getting the help they need. If I was on my own and had to wait like that I would of left and not came back.
By the time Maya had come back from her second appointment of the day I had read my entire book. I think Maya was surprised. I am rather a fast and impulsive, and some what manic reader at times. I think I gave myself a headache in the process though!
I'm feeling rather blank, uninspired and meaningless. So I think I will leave this here for now.

Camden, shoes, policemen and sherlock!

What have I been up to? Not much until yesterday. In fact the day before yesterday I slept for sixteen hours straight. But yesterday I went out with John to London. Something we haven’t done for AGES! Really can’t remember the last time we went down London together. The idea was originally to go on the Brompton Cemetery tour, however the weather was sucky and so we thought the tour could well be off. So plan B was to go to Camden to buy some new shoes, and then the Sherlock Holmes Museum - located on Baker Street obviously. To be truthful I was actually more interested in going to the gift shop, I already knew what I wanted to buy from there.

So we set out into the dull rainy day at approximately midday, I took my big black Hoodie which has oriental writing on (no idea what it says) because it honestly is the warmest most waterproof thing I own now. Needless to say it actually isn’t super waterproof only being a hoodie but it is very warm. John went out in his big coat. We both soon regretted our choice of outdoors ware, for the tube was very hot and stuffy and by the time we were in Camden the weather had warmed considerably.

It must be at least three years since I ventured into Camden high street and down to the lock. It seemed busier than ever but they maybe due to my diminished memory of the place. One thing is certain it has changed a lot and in a rather disappointing sort of way. Camden has always been too pretentious for my liking but now you have to add on top the word incredibly trendy. Gone are the many rock shops and alternative music stores. In there place are shops selling very random objects and objects of clothing more found on the dance music scene. I couldn’t locate one good shoe store selling the kind of Goth dance trainers I have become so fond of. It would have been so easy to find them once. I did come across one shop which had a pair of new rock trainer boots in them which were simply lovely (only good shoes in the shop as far as I was concerned), the price, on the other hand, wasn’t lovely. Needless to say I left the ship very much empty handed. Such a shame because my current shoes are totally falling a part after eight months service and I can’t locate X18’s (shoes I currently have) in Size 9 anywhere on the internet. I noticed it was hard to locate any shoes in size 9 in Camden, or in shop stores in Oxford Street where I went later on. Weird!

As much as I found Camden still interesting to explore for a while I was glad to have finished my uneventful search for decent shoes and by on the way to Barker Street. Baker Street wasn’t as easy to get to as hoped. On a good day it would have been a breeze seeing it really isn’t so far from Camden if you are taking the train. The problem was there was no train to take! It shouldn’t have surprised me to find Camden Station closed. It is always being closed to steady the flow of humans pouring in and out of the area. Typical unorganized London! Honestly by now you’d of thought they would of build a much bigger and better station for Camden. Camden station is pathetically small and clearly from a time when people were mercifully fewer in number than today’s rabble. Those must have been the days! I bet Camden was beautiful in those days…

On the bus we went, taking us rather off the mark of Baker Street but at least it took us to a station, seven sisters, from which we could get to Baker Street by. Once on Baker Street it didn’t take us too long to locate the Sherlock Holmes museum. It has a most beautiful old fashioned wooden front, the glass in the window frames reminds me of old bottles in the way it rounds into harmless corners. I was pleased to see upon entering a really nice photo of Jeremy Brett as Sherlock Holmes on the wall. Thought that was so cool! Well I would.. I seem to have become a little obsessed with him recently, more so after reading two biographies on him (I relate to him so much it's weird.. I feel so fond of him).

While looking around the shop a man dressed in Victorian police uniform complete with black cape entered the shop, he went up to the old wooden counter to ask the lady seated there, in old fashion Victorian wear, something or other before leaving the shop. I thought he looked stunning in that Cape. I love male Victorian clothing so much. I tried to not make it oblivious I was drooling at… I mean looking at him. After poking everything in the store, and handling all the Sherlock teddies (which I couldn’t afford), I found MY book. Yes, my book, all mine, mwahaha. Um yes. Anyway, it had been by where the pretend Victorian policeman had been standing all along. Clearly he put me off in his fine cloths. I was so pleased to see the big fat A5 Glossy Book with Jeremy Brett on the front in Victorian Top hat, suit and holding a cain upwards resting over his shoulder in black leather gloves, I almost kissed the book. Thankfully I refrained from doing so to at least to carry on giving the outside appearance of sanity to all whom inhabited the crowded shop.

The book is about all the Sherlock Holmes actors who have ever been but it has a large section to Brett with some very nice photos because he is regarded as the very best Holmes ever by many (because he is!!!). Him and Basil Rathbone (1930 -40’s actor) are seen as the very best. Both fan groups will of course say the other was better. The text makes for rather depressing reading, stuff I already knew mostly. Think I’ll just look at the photos and not read the text again.

On leaving the Sherlock Holmes museum shop, John commented how he liked what the lady at the counter had been wearing and she was very pretty. I said I hadn't really notice her but I had noticed the police man! I said he was dressed so fine and looked sooooo nice. He was quite yummy. John said, what policemen? Then he said “oh this one you mean this one” and laughed. The police guy was standing just inches from me, and I went totally red as he smiled at me and said “why thank you very much” to me! Gah! Never going be able to go back there again now. :p

After we left Baker Street we went to Oxford Street to look for shoes for me again! By this time I was feeling a bit dizzy and my heart felt funny, I guess too much exercise and very little food after the highly inactive day before. Almost was at the point of white mist before my eyes. Thankfully john spotted a shop simply called “Eat” on Oxford Street. It had so many seriously good organic sandwiches and salads in there, I was in heaven, yummy! So we got some things and sat down on the very comfy leather upholstered seats there and had a good rest and put some good food in us. Afterwards we carried on hunting for shoes. I found a pair I liked but guess what? In size flipping ten, gah! I give up. I’m going have to make my own shoes at this rate. This is not in the least bit amusing.

When we got on the train home we stopped off at White City and sat down for a while before carrying on again. Still have no idea why I love that train station platform so much, but I do. Always feel so content sitting on the wooden benches at that station with my back resting against the big round white city train logo which forms the back of the bench. One of those little mysteries of life, huh? I was nice to be back there. I hope they never change those benches I’d be horribly upset. I get so attached to things! Not supposed to, attachment is bad according to Buddhist text because it leads to sadness in the end. Which is so true! I’m not a very good Buddhist type…

Fancy Mice Bandeds

For those that do not know already, I am a breeder of fancy mice. I have always had small rodents (at first it was hamsters and gerbils) growing up. When I was 14 I brought my first mice and I have never looked back. They aare simply enchanting creatures and if bred properly very people friendly.

On Sunday my bandeds from Belgium and the Netherlands arrived at the port of Dover . They are quite a bit smaller in type than my own bred bandeds but they are adorable. They come from two mouserys : Mousery Vlindchi (Netherlands) and La Forêt des Yggdrasils (Belgium). Most are from Vlindchi though.

I was given 14 bandeds, but sadly one was ill by the time they reached me and was making very loud breathing sounds. Subsequently she sadly passed away within only half a day of me having her. I really don't know what happened there. Everyone else seems seems prefectly fine and healthy.

I can’t get more unrelated blood than by importing! This I’m pleased about. I keep saying “bonjour” to the mice instead of Hello. I'm quarantineing them for three weeks and letting them settle in and get to know me. After that I will be pairing up some of the french speakers to some of my own bred bandeds.

Evil Badge and my way of speaking

Now picture this, you suffer from anxiety or any other form of mental health issue. You go to the centre for therapy, medication or any other form of help they offer and you are handed a badge ! This badge is for a support group for “people like you”, a group that that informs you that you need not be ashamed of the mental health issues you have and it’s a group you will get comfort from joining. All sounds good right? Though the whole badge thing is weird! Not as weird as the badge though…

I'm not so sure they are trying to make people feel better. The person on the badge is a freak! This badge seriously scares me! Just what are they trying to say? The badge makes me feel depressed and silly and I don't actually belong to this group. I was simply handed one of these unfortunate objects because I was sitting with Maya.

Some scary women came up to her and started talking about something most incoherently! At least, to us she seemed most incoherent! I suppose it could of partly been because we were so nervous of suddenly being approached when in full conversation I might add. We thought she was there for treatment herself , and that is why she was unaware how rude coming up to two people in the middle of a conversation is. Her condition made her not understand this. However, she turned out to be a member of staff…

She wanted Maya to fill out a questionnaire of sorts about what she thought of the place. I’d glad she got to mention how it’s always too flipping hot in there. It’s really horrible. The heating has been on even on warm days making the waiting room, and I imagine, other areas of the clinic most uncomfortable.

There is something about some people that is really off putting. I mean she was friendly and behaved in a kindly manner towards us both. However, it didn’t ring true to me. There are some people with a sickly sweet manner and that was her. It always feels as if they are just being nice because they are paid to be or because it boosters themselves up as a worthwhile human being. In other words they get a kick out of “being good”. It’s not the same thing as getting a genuine pleasure. A warmth in ones heart, from doing the right thing and making someone else’s life better. I know I must sound so cynical but I think it’s more the case of being insightful. Because I am not saying everyone is like this. I recognize and have much gratitude towards genuine kindness when it is found.

You know what I have come very aware of? My voice! No more the way I use my voice. The wording I use in conversion, such as saying “like” in place of "such as", or simply saying "like" where it is not needed. Furthermore, I become tongue tied really easily. I feel I have very basic spoken skills. I find that I am able to I write a fair bit better than what I talk! I honestly don’t look down on other people like me or with less skill than me, as long as they are good people that is what matters. However, the way I talk bothers me personally more than I’d like to admit and has done so for a while. I think it’s partly a confidence issue. I find in real life conversation my thoughts race quickly or they blank out quickly. Leaving me little time to grab them up and spilt them out. Also ability to form good descriptions and concepts fails me when in conversation, even though I know what I want to say in my head. I really want to scream sometimes I am quite good at making myself feel so silly. When I’m alone and thinking things out in my own head I feel I have good literacy skills! Maybe it all comes down to not having shared many conversations with people face to face over the years. I've had few friends. Let alone ones that want to engaged in real stimulating discussion. Thankfully both Esmy and Maya do! :)

I think I will try speaking slower and see if that helps! Oh this all reminds me of something I read the other day, part of a conversation Jeremy Brett was having with Linda Pritchard, when they had first became friends.

When he was 16 years old, after he had contracted rheumatic fever. “Doctors thought I would never recover from the illness,” he said, “They told me I would never run up stairs and that I would be chair bound for the rest of my life. I guess that’s why I have little faith in doctors. No, I shouldn’t say that. I do have faith in their ability, but it seems to me many of them limit their outlook only to what is physically possible today, only to breakthroughs published in current medical journals. Nothing is attributed to will of the human being, how the human will can surpass physical handicaps and limitations. Anyway, I did manage to run up stairs and have since done a lot with my life, things those very same doctors thought would be impossible.

“and there’s one good thing that resulted from that ailment. When the illness was at its peak and I was very close to death, that was when I managed to touch the petticoats of comprehension Actually, it is something that has really helped me. Knowing that there is more to us than life and death makes one realise that all things are possible….”

“That is what gave me the confidence to do what I really wanted to do : be an actor. Be an actor, despite a speech impediment. It was a discouraging handicap, enough to make one give up trying to become an actor. Had I not the belief that anything was possible, I just might have given up. Not being able to pronounce the letters “r” and “s” is not something an actor can get away with. But because of my belief and probably a good dose of stubbornness, I just would not let go of my dream. I knew I had to overcome the obstacle. There just had to be. So I had my tongue cut, went to the Central School Of Speech and Drama, and gave it my best effort. And it worked. I was able to do what I was told I could never do…”

I think Jeremy had a delightful voice and expressed himself so well. If he can do it maybe I can too.:) From reading this book I have been reading it's also very clear he was a deep thinker and enjoyed meaningful coversation. I so wish I could have a chat to him about life, death, the universe and so much more. Be so lovely!

“One must always remember that we are not merely made of skin and bone. We are spiritual beings who can achieve all we set out to do. All we have to do is believe in the truth of our existence. We were not put on this earth by chance and either have we been put here simply to live and die. We are all on a wonderful journey of discovery. Not only to discover the joys and hardships of life, but to discover who we really are”.

I hope he's right...

People Trouble

I really hate how if I allow the wrong kind of people in my life by mistake I find it hard to tell them where to go. Even if they are being really dominating and mulipative. When I finally get the courage up to do what’s right against them it's a really intense event. My heart paces at a million miles an hour. I hate the feelings associated with confrontation.

I don't like being an angry or aggressive person. With actual strangers that are out right mean to me from the start I cope better with (though still it‘s horrible). So much harder with people I get on friendly terms with, people whom slowly but surely turn our friendship into a communist state. I feel so stressed.

My mobile just went then with a text from one such person. My heart is now racing even though I know I am in the right and that person should have no power over me. What’s wrong with me? Why do such people process this power over me? And why are dominating people attached to me. I keep forming friendships where I suffer exploitation.

The person who has hurt and pissed me off I expected a bit more of and had got to like against my original better judgement. We weren't close or anything but I trusted her. And trust is a very precious thing to instil in someone. I keep telling myself never to give trust out so easily. I thought I had got myself over that problem but clearly I have a mind which sometimes likes to graze over things, create denial and be dismissive of the facts presented before me. It's as if my want for my life to be more full of nice people makes me believe someone is nice. Then I am left feeling hurt, lost and angry with myself. Also I have renewed "faith" in the world being full of horrible hurtful people. A place where I really don't know if things are what they seem every time someone tries to get into my life, and a place where I worry I’m going be hurt by the people I have let in already. Or a place where I give up letting people in altogether. My feelings aren’t easily hurt by outright strangers, and I'm quick to stand up for myself and fight back, give lip of fist if necessary if trouble makers just set on me. I almost enjoy the fight if anything. They don't hurt me. However, I'm a weak as a butterfly caught in a storm if I'm let down by someone I thought was good and kind. That I allowed into my world. That I gave or would give my time and attention too. I hurt too much and too easily when it comes to such matters.

Most important of all is how do I solve this problem? There is a way to change it but how?