Emma

I'm a little *sadface* because I'm not really ranting today but I like what I've been working on. What I have begun is a series of texts on 'Emma'. Emma is just the name given to one of the voices/moods/random feelings that run around and cause havoc. What Emma actually is a little difficult to decide on so I'm giving myself a few ways to express her in literature. What I have for you today is a short piece of prose. It is a dialogue from myself to Emma. It's also exactly one hundred words long so I feel that it is amazing based solely on that fact. I wrote it in word using a font called 'Parseltongue' which has an amazing effect on how this is read. Unfortunately, wordpress no likey :( So you'll just have to miss out on what I see

Emma? Emma, are you there? I’m feeling strange. What have you done? EMMA? My head is spinning and my hands are shaking. What have you done? There’s fire behind my eyes. I think I’m having a seizure. Did you poison me? I don’t feel right. There’s someone standing over me but they keep moving. I can’t focus! What the hell have you done? Emma? Why is this box empty? The box that says ‘loxalate’. Emma, what did I do? My eyes won’t stay open but my cheek hurts. I think they hit me.

Oh God. Emma, what did I do?

They see me rolling...

This is the first time I've driven twice in one week! I should be shocked, not excited. I am excited though. The last time I drove before this was September last year. SEPTEMBER. Can you believe it? I can because it happened to me.
I used to wonder if I would be able to drive with the memory of mum's accident. I'm doing just fine though and I love driving - what little I get to do. I'm even doing a long day trip on the Friday after this. I love it.
It does mean I'm stuck with my dad for a while. I don't mind too much but he is a bit arrogant and he makes me feel pressured into doing or saying things. I really need the hours though so I'll have to suck it up and be manipulative.
I enjoyed going around the industrial lot today. Now that I actually know how to do things, it's more fun to do them. Of course, I broke the law by failing to indicate or indicating too late, speeding, driving too far to the right and going through an intersection without pausing. Hey! I've only done 8 hours!
I talked a lot whilst driving which was really good for me. I felt calmer and more in control. I also swore vengeance against a lot of drivers on the freeway. They followed really close! And some of them cut me off. Assholes :)
But for the most part, it wasn't a ranting kind of driving lesson. Actually, none of it was. I did get annoyed at my dad but I always do and he was being really on edge which bugged me as the driver. It was a good lesson!

Left side! Strong side! ('Remember the Titans')

I was struggling to come up with an idea for today's rant so I decided to bitch about my boyfriend and HELL-O! I struck gold. The bastard stole my side of the bed!
Although it has changed a lot over the last year, I've finally settled into sleeping on the left side of the bed and I can't be against the wall only to sleep over and have my grandeur's of a good night sleep destroyed. Trent actually MOVED me over.
Trent was out watchnig a movie and I got so tired I just gave up and went to sleep in his bed. On the left side. At three o'clock-IN THE MORNING! Not happy- he came in and wiggled me onto the other side of the bed. Now I wasn't happy about this already but what he did next was worse.
He put a movie on to help him sleep.
There is no way I can sleep with noise. My stepsister's snoring wakes me right up.
He wrapped both his arms around me which was an amazingly secure feeling but it also meant I couldn't escape his dastardly clutches without waking him up. DAMN! In the end, I was so tired from over-thinking ways to get up without waking him (how sweet, not wanting to wake him after what he did!) that I ended up getting out of bed at six-thirty to help his house mate's kids get ready to go stay at their dad's.
When Trent left for work and I went home, I decided to change my side of the bed. For the last month or so, I've been sleeping on the right side with my massive teddy in the way to stop me creeping over. It sucks. It sucks so bad. Sleeping this way doesn't feel natural! It takes ages to fall asleep, I toss and turn all night and I just really miss my side of the bed!
A few nights ago, I kicked my teddy off the bed and shuffled my way onto the left side. Left side = orgasm face. It was the best sleep ever. No moving, no lying awake and no cranky morning mood! I've even fallen asleep just sitting on the left side of my bed doing homework.
My body knows. Trent has deprived me of a most basic but necessary and important right: access to the left side of the bed!
Now to explain all this to him without looking like I've given it too much consideration...

Let's remake the Bonds' ads.

I'm here to say there is absolutely NO WAY I will ever wear Bonds underwear. My bum is never going to look as good as the girls in the ads and I've certainly never had a food fight in my knickers! I've also never skated past strangers when almost starkers.
I will admit that I do like the thought of girls being comfortable enough with their bodies to dance around in their undies but come on! Bonds ads are almost certainly made by the same guys who think girls have pillow fights at sleep overs.
No girl jumps into a choreographed underwear dance, especially not in their gym. And what's with the corset? I don't know anyone who wears Bonds AND a corset!
Let's face it, Bonds have no idea what they're doing. Sure, they make comfy undies but what the hell are they doing with their advertising?
I would never leave my house any less than fully dressed but in the land of Bonds, it's ok to run around the forest with the necessities only barely covered. Wouldn't those girls freeze?
And don't get me started on all the jumping and jiggling. If I tried to dance in a Bonds ad, all my wobbly bits would wiggle right out!
All I want is for Bonds to go back to the good old days of Pat Rafter, where the ads got a giggle and made sense.
But hey, at least Bonds have got the 'comfy undies' angle to work with.

Rambling.

They honestly don't care if you're a pretty face because no one ever remembers you the morning after. I shouldn't care. I really shouldn't but I do. I can't stop thinking of it. For just a second, I knew that someone thought I was beautiful. Then I kick myself and consider the razor blades. I was weak. I love to dance. He was charming. I'm a sucker for guys who speak Italian. He was a gentleman. I don't think I've ever so much as seen a guy kiss a girl's hand. Of course I told him off and warned him and did all the right things someone who has a boyfriend is supposed to do. But I was weak and I won't forget that. I cried and I hate that because tears are emotional blackmail. The way that he says 'I knew something would happen' makes me want to hurt him. Not because he's right but because I feel like he won't trust anyone with me. That's the same as not trusting me with anyone. I hate that I care so much about what happened. I hate that I was manipulative about how I told him. I hate that I'm guilty because I DID do something wrong. I just want to give up on myself. I don't feel as though I deserve any better.