PMS

WHAT IS WITH THIS SHIT?


I won't lie to you. I suffer greatly from this beast of an illness. And sometimes, just sometimes, I do get why some men do the whole "OH MY GOD IS IT THAT TIME OF THE MONTH?" thing.


Sometimes when I'm being irrational it's not even that time of month, I'm just being a dick. I'll admit to it.


But my god, when that time of month rolls around, what is wrong with me? The worst thing is I know I'm overreacting to tripping on the bathroom scales that were left out or someone claiming to have eaten a cake I made for my friends who couldn't make it over to eat it.


No seriously. You don't think I can spazz out over a cake? I can. IT WASN'T EVEN FREAKIN' FINISHED.


I'm telling you maaaaaaaaaan. It's like an out of body experience, I know I'm being a complete PRICK but I just can't stop myself....

I want to ride my bicycle.....

I finally thought I understood Freddy Mercury. But alas. I just found more burning passionate hate. I'm still not sure if hate brings people together or not. I'm not sure if love does this either but I'm pretty sure hate brings people together more than love.

What do I hate? Well. It's more my understanding of a heirachy of modes of transport really. You know how motorists hatehateHATE cyclists. Well guess what I as a cyclist have discovered. I hate buggies. And after being a passenger of cars for the best part of 20 years now I don't think ANYONE likes them. I can't say I hate the children inside the pushchairs so much. But I can say loud and proud I hate their mothers. There's a specific type that I hate. To say I hate them all would be unjust. It's these stupid women - and I say women because not yet have I seen ONE MAN do this - who push their buggy. WITH CHILD INSIDE, into the middle of a busy road or at a crossing. What you think I'm gonna stop because you throw your child in front of me? NO. I can't. These poor babies probably don't even realise they're being put at risk just so some retard can cross the road saving them what? 15 seconds?

I say this ranty cyclist crap as if I'm an accomplished one. I am if it means riding all the way from my house to just past East Ham station, no causaulties and one collision with a parked car.

But this is what I want.

£100. eBay.

A bike. So I can get skinny. And be popular. Sorry. TV made me say that.

So online shopping is just like all other things in this world. High expectations WILL result in disappointment. I'm all wound up right? All I want is a pair of red patent heels. Why? I don't even wear heels that often. This is purely to make myself feel better. I'd rather have a fag. But I won't. See when you have a fag, you don't SEE the damage you're doing to yourself. However. A shopping spree always comes back to haunt you in the form of the dreaded bank statement.

I am so sick complaining about this. But sorry. I have to. You know there are a lot of small people in the world. In a way I'm one of them. I can't help it sometimes. It just comes out. But not in a hey-let's-rock-the-table-full-of-someone's-notoriously-intricate-dominos. By this I mean people who are bitchy to someone with the knowledge that the person they are talking about may find out. Maybe they do this intentionally. I wouldn't know. I don't do it.

Like my mother's friends. I never thought it'd be this way round. "Oh I don't like you hanging around with those people. They're a bad influence." Surely mother dearest should be saying this kind of thing to me. Only in theory people. My friends are the finest society has to offer. Most of the time anyway. But yeah. Her friends seemingly HATE ME. Now I know hate is a strong word. But I can only think of this word to describe the way things are simply because it is so damn childish. You gotta understand, there's a minimum of 25 to 30 years age difference between this lot and myself. But this shit is crazy. It's like being at school. But worse. Because when you're at school you keep thinking to yourself "One day I'll be free of these shit heads and never again will I have to endure such bullshit in my day to day life."

Then BAM. Some fucker manages to bring it all flooding back. The back biting. The bitchiness. The twat-face comments that don't even make much sense.

Worst of all of this isn't even the stuff they say to me. Most of the time it's a pretty impressive compliment. "Why did your daughter wear that skirt? Showing off her bum like that... Pssssht." ACTUALLY. I don't have much of an arse. So I'm guessing thanks are in order. BITCH.

I get knocked down.

And I don't get back up. I hate everyone. I speak fast. Really fast. If you've ever spoken to me then you'll know this is true. If you don't like it THEN FUCK OFF AND DON'T TALK TO ME.

My mum is the latest to criticise me on this. I hate being told this. And more than that I hate how I'm told this in that let-me-stop-you-in-the-middle-of-this-conversation-and-embarrass-you-in-front-of-everyone-in-the-room.

My uncle does this to me aswell.

But the thing that kills me the most is how embarrassed I am about it. You wouldn't mock someone with a stammer. Actually people would. ARGH. You can't even make a point because people are so shit.

I can't help the way I am. And if you don't wanna listen then don't start just to change your mind half way. Just avoid me and we'll both be happy.

My day is now ruined. I refuse to leave my room. Everyone really can just fuck off.

KOMAL YOU BLIND SHIT THE POST IS RIGHT HERE MAN!

Why on earth is there so much drama at this time of year?! It doesn’t even make any sense. We all know there are times of the year when drama simply can’t be avoided. But now? Easter? Why can’t you all just eat chocolate, hate yourselves for your disgusting eating habits and then eat more chocolate?!

All the drama has made me think about one thing in particular. Pride. Good thing? Bad thing? I don’t know anymore. When is it good and when is it bad? To have pride in one’s work and oneself is good, but when is it that you have to swallow your pride? It confuses me greatly.

I can tell you one thing, drama is something I severely lack in my life. I think I’m some kind of simpleton. To this very day my family all tell me - “You should look after number one.”

In some ways I’m an adamant believer of this. But I think it’s something missing from a lot of people. Arrogance. It’s a beautiful thing. I love arrogant people. I love being arrogant. I know it’s not something you should aspire to be. In my mind arrogant people are only that way because they have reason to be. Self belief is a wonderous joy everyone should experience. So if you’re reading this and thinking today’s been a bit crap or someone’s pissed you off, just say to yourself “I AM AMAZING.” Truth be told I do say it more often than required but that’s because I truly believe I’m some sort of amazing amazingness.

Oh I love love love joining all these fan pages. Some are witty. Some I really do believe in and support. Some I have joined over and over with some teeny tiny difference in the name (one word… FREDDO. Seems I’m not the only one emotionally scarred by the crazy price increase on what some would argue is the staple diet of 68% of school children – someone once told me “There are lies, fucking lies and then there are statistics”).

So let me share a few of my favourite fan pages!

I don't need you to love me, I can love myself.

Why can't more people think like this? Some people are desperate to get into relationships. So much so that they'll go for ANYTHING. And some of the absolute creeps or hoe-bags these nice and otherwise sane people go for. I mean WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? So yeah. People. Love yourself. Have high standards. And please do prepare to be at least a little disappointed. The way I see it, losers procreate with other losers and create these super losers. And well, the rate at which these evil beings are being produced you're bound to bump into one. Or seven. Probably on the district line. Ha ha.

You don't look Bengali... What's a Bengali supposed to look like?!

Okay so I'm not Bengali. But it's the principal. Someone once told me that I don't look like a pharmacist. And I replied "BLUD LISTEN YEAH JUST CUZ I'M NOT GUJI...." No. I didn't. Does that sound like something I'd say? Do NOT answer that. But what the hell is anything meant to look like? Who knows. But I must admit I do this myself sometimes. An example? Tell me, how many dark skinned gujarati people do you know? Like 2?! I'm so sorry to all the Guji Gangstas reading this I know it seems like you're being discriminated against. Don't worry I hate EVERYONE. Not just you guys. Don't go thinking you're special or anything crazy like that!

THE WHOPPER

This is like CRACK to me. I mean it. I swear to you. I want to marry this burger. It satisfies my needs. Makes me happy when I am sad. I crave it. I love it. I enjoy every second I’m with it. (I’M A FAT LOSER WHO NEEDS A REAL LIFE.)

If I could delete you from my life, that would be amazing.

I know this is probably a very childish thing to discuss but I must admit I have thought this more than once. There are some truly horrendous people in the world. And I’m not talking about the axe-wielding serial killers – who are indeed in their own right bad – but I’m talking about everyday criminals. The guys and girls who just ruin your day, week, month and for the really unfortunate (or really really dumb). What is wrong with these people? They are just horrible. And ridiculous. So yeah. Just die. All the irrational, over-dramatic, queue-jumping, attention-seeking, start-an-arguement-for-nothing, steal-your-parking-space kind of people.

Truth hurts... but not as much as getting fingered by Edward Scissorhands.

Nuff said. This is for the bounce back crowd of people. I don’t know if I’m one of them. But I like to thing I can bounce. Maybe not back. But definitely bouncy.
On to other news. Today on the bus I saw the most amazing sleep. This guy must have been on drugs. I was jealous of how sleepy he was. If you don’t know by now, I love sleep. So yeah this was like pure unadulterated sleep. He wasn’t doing the whole let-me-lean-to-one-side-and-“ACCIDENTALLY”-end-up-sleeping-on-your-shoulder thing. He even managed to fall forward, hit his head on the seat in front of him, grunt and then fall asleep again. Okay so maybe he was on drugs... it WAS the 474.
More transport crappiness in my life. Don’t you just love how there are NO TRAINS running on the weekend? Like none at all? Oh. It’s just me? Hmmm. Well I’m waiting for the Piccadilly line because the Victoria line apparently ran away with the milkman when a little old lady comes up to me asking how she can get to Stockwell. I take her to the map and show her how she can get off at Leicester Square and change for the Northern line. What does she say?

“Aaaaah. No.”

I’m in SHOCK. I don’t know what to say. So I try to explain it to her again. And again she just says “Aaaaah. No.” I just gave up.
A better person would have persevered, but I wanted to go home. The best part of that day was the coffee. I know this is lame, but I finally have a coffee “the way I like it”. You know. There’s a specific one that you like. Well I have it now. And it makes my life richer, in my eyes anyway. Thus making my standards of a rich and fulfilled quite low. Ha ha. If anyone’s interested in getting me a coffee, I lovelovelove a large latte with a shot of Amaretto syrup from Cafe Nero. Failing that I’ll happily accept a large latte with a shot gingerbread syrup from Costa. I’ve yet to find a coffee I enjoy from Starbucks. I do love these shots of syrupy sunshine though.

SAALENE. OVER AND OUT. AND PROUD. AHHAHAHAHAA xxx

GETTING BACK ON THIS TING.

This one's for Naz and Komal.

Jeeze, you'd think I was writing a bloody book or summat, the way I'm putting these dedications to people at the beginning!

But yeah, it's down to you two - and your incessant facebooking - that I'm writing this.

I know that looks like incestual facebooking, 'cause when I read it back I did go... "WHATTHE-" but yeah. What would incestual facebooking be? Being married to your brother?

So yeah this is the first note in a fair while. So I'm just gonna go with it.

Let's begin. My mind will wander. Consider this a warning.

With the above question being about relationship statuses I wanted to know what's the deal with DTR.

"What's DTR?!" I hear you all whisper to each other with that urgency that you only get with "I-don't-know-this-Am-I-the-only-one-who-doesn't-know-what-this-is" syndrome.

Let's ask... THE URBAN DICTIONARY!

Gosh if this bloody site taught chemistry I could've gone somewhere with my life - we'll get to this discussion later.

URBAN DICTIONARY SAYS....


YEP. It's when you decide with your other half how to let the book of faces and everyone on it know

HOW SERIOUS YOUR RELATIONSHIP IS.

Please note - this is not to be confused with any other DTR, especially "Destroy The Rednecks", I like Rednecks. I mean what a friendly bunch of people, you can tell by the way the keep furniture on their "porch"... they want you to feel at home even before you step through the front door! Now THAT'S what I call thoughtful.

Anyways. I see this in a magazine and sit confused by it for lets say 2 and a half minutes. I try to laugh it off proclaiming loudly "Who cares about relationship statuses on facebook?". We all laugh. Then suddenly all chortles and chuckles come crashing down, as we all stop and realise than in fact at some point be it a week ago or a year ago there has been a drama involving a relationship status.

And this is when I realised that in some circumstances is can be a very delicate subject. Which of course is ripped to shreds by what is your cyber-neighbours. See what I did there. Think of Facebook and other networking sites as the set of Eastenders. Everyone gets their chance to air their dirty laundry in the form of a storyline status - you know the whole "BlahBlahBlah Spakleface dnt nd bitches n hoes lyk u in ma lyf. Get me. KMT. Fuckin hoooess. I LOVE MY BABBIII"

Dear God, should I ever hit a low as demonstrated by the above atrocity that is and will again be someone's status you have my permission to SLAP ME WITH A KIPPER.


But yeah. Let's get back to the point. Have you or have you not ever found yourself going "OH MY GOD WHAAAAAAAAAAAT?" about someone's relationship status.

Be it the couple at work, school, college or uni who you thought would NEVER split.
And also with that the whole "WHODUNNIT?!"
Who pulled the trigger. Or clicked the button. Or who didn't. Because I know one couple where both even after splitting refused to change the status of their relationship, therefore rendering it a relationSHIT. Idiot people.

Or the two most random people - that you may love or hate or even worse a COMBINATION of the two - coming together. Just to clarify a combination IS worse, because your friend will get pissy when you take the piss out of their piss-take of a choice for a lover. SI?

Then there's the many many MANY misunderstandings when it comes to this thing that is a relationship status.

I myself have been the victim of such a misunderstanding.

True story! - I love saying that. A family friend mistook this...



... as me coming out.

I'll pause for you all to get your giggles out. But it was actually quite nice because said family friend was really nice about it. So she goes up to my uncle at the station and gives it, "Oh I'm so happy for Saalene for coming out." And I won't quote because I wasn't there but it was along the lines of "It must be so hard to be accepted into the asian community with this kind of situation" yahdah yahdah yaaa.

Who cares if I'm not a lesbian. I'm just happy that I've got some support should I ever choose to be. Now tell me how many young asian people in East London have that privilege?!

And to add to the whole DTR shizz - which I think is complete bollocks about a serious issue, the bollocks being the need to define the relationship the serious issue that is the relationship status, my cousin told me about this. I just had to put it up.



Yeah okay Cheryl. Your mans a fool. Put on your sunglasses back on and find your pride and wear it like a pair of fabulous Jimmy Choos.

In fact. Lets do this like one of the many glossy mags SHOULD have told her to do - like they tell all the other women to do right?.

+ listening to




because god only knows this track is the one that will guarantee you make on HELL of a plan for revenge - which is healthy. the girls too nice. let her be a bit of a bitch for a while.. I'm sure she's picked SOMETHING up from Mr Cowell.


+ eating a whole load of



and I mean a lot. because I see ribs. and they're not on my plate.

= HAPPY CHAPPY CHERYL AGAIN.


To be honest a whole load of bitchiness wouldn't go a miss either because anyone who thinks THOSE UNDERPANTS are sexy needs to seek counselling.

STOP THE PRESS!

After reading over some of my last posts I've come to realise that there's one thing that ALWAYS comes up.

FOOD.

Why oh why am I so obsessed with the stuff?

I had an argument with my mother yesterday. A regular occurrence for those of you who are regular readers of this. But I'm telling you I take emotional eating to another level.

I started the evening making myself a jacket potato with lots of nice good-for-you veg.
Then the argument started.
And ended.
But it didn't, because I decided I didn't want to eat. Then I wanted to eat everything. Then I wanted half of everything.

Living on a prayer...

I confused with the world. I'm not gonna lie. I dunno about how I feel about God or religion. I'm not particularly religious. But I'm not gonna rule belief out completely.

I recently prayed that God would give me the support to get through some of the shit I'm getting through. I know I'll find a solution myself and I think it'd be cheeky to just ask for a solution. I KNOW I'll work it out. I just don't wanna lose my mind in the process. Thing is usually I'll pray for the usual that I was taught to pray for (bless my Nan)

- good health
- good education
- and a general blessing.

But this time I think it worked. But I don't think it's worked. I've had to deal with a lot in the past year. I think I was depressed at one point. I'd not wanna leave my room. I'd hate looking at myself in the mirror. I'd make up excuses not to do things with "friends". Now I really hate people who make up their own mental illnesses and I can't say I was ACTUALLY depressed. But I must admit I think I was a teeny bit. I'd sit around and smoke whole packets of cigarettes. They'd make me feel even worse and I wouldn't enjoy them but I did it anyway. I got stuck in a rut. That my friends, is my biggest fear. Once you're in a rut it seems impossible to get out. How you got into it and why you can't get out are questions you can answer til you realise you actually can't because there's no logic to your actions anymore.

I can't be in this rut right now. That's why I'm writing this. So I can bring some logic back into the equation. I think when emotions are running high you don't think straight at all. I've had these sudden attacks of rage. And they've only been for people I really care for or REALLY REALLY despise.

I'm taking the advice I've been give about both these sets of people. I'm gonna have to let things go. It's funny. I'm letting things go with the people I hate because being angry with them is not good for me. But I'm letting go of things with the people I love because it's not good for them.

I probably take a lot out on my family and friends. There have been times where I've been really vicious towards them, which I am embarrassed about. Also there are times where I've been really amazing to the people who least deserved it in their lives. I know they didn't deserve it now because if they had an ounce of real decency things wouldn't have turned out the way they have. I can just let them go on about their lives hoping that someone one day will come and pop their bubbles.

But yeah back to my prayers and what not. The last few days have been full of people telling me how amazing I am. If you know me personally you'll know of my arrogance. When I flounce about proclaiming to the world that I'm the best thing since sliced bread.
Or chaat masala
Or N-dubz
Or Marilyn Manson.

I know you're loving that ladies.

I'VE GONE OFF TRACK.

Long story short = it's ironic that my friends have been telling me how amazing I am out of the blue and my mum's ripping the piss

This is sorta more for me to remember stuff years from now and as "pick me up" so I'm going to copy and paste all the nice shit here.

You ready?

GO!

"I love u baby. I miss talking about ur boobs 24/7 and touching them......I miss waking up to find ur legs poking out of my cupboard.....I miss shouting at u when u wouldn't let me get any fucking sleep or work done....sleep is overrated anywayy....I miss banishing u from my room....and how every night u'd say fine....ur not gonna see me now...I mean it.....and I’d still wake up to the sound of ur chatter and cigarette smoke..... I miss making u laugh...but not making u cry.....I miss how protective u were of me when it came to boys....I miss the hundreds of sambuca shots...yumyumm.....I miss finding ur sexy lingerie and half ur wardrobe in my room and threatening to chuck it all away...I miss and love how u came all the way to Heathrow to see me off despite the transport strike!...I miss how u always cared so much about wht I thoughttt....and ur right...I miss the non stop banter and ur stories even if I had to hear them ten times over!....I miss hearing ur daily mantra of...oo I’m shaz....I’m sexy...I’m gorgeous....my boobs are lush....u know u want me! because ur right....u r and I do!.... "

"I love your face
I love your boobs
I love your curly hair
I love your legs (espesh in those wedges ;) )
I love your smile
I love your eyes
I love your mass texts
I love it when you sleep on desks

I love youuuuuuuuu

the END."

the word "AMAZING" was used by a certain someone. what's wrong with me I should be jumping up and down with excitement. but I’m more MEH! about it.

AND I HATE PEOPLE WHO ARE MEH!

THAT'S QUITE ENOUGH FOR NOW.

I'M OFF TO BAKE CAKES NOW. AFTER A SHOWER.

We were in the butter aisle.

So today has been one of those days.

At first I saw it as one of the worst days ever. But turned out okay you know.

Just stupid things. But I think I've learnt to just take a minute out and reflect on situations.

Like when I went into this lab, and I have no one to pair up with. For about 3 whole minutes I burnt with embarrassment. I revert back being to 6 years old, but to be honest it's the question you ask yourself an embarrasingly stupid amount of times.

"DOES NO ONE LIKE ME?"

Oh they were excruciating. I moved my things. I felt pity resonate from the girls on the bench by mine. Pity is all they have to offer. Do I take it? Yeah a little. But I feel an immediate pang of guilt. I say to myself, "Man-up damn it! It's a titration. It's not gonna kill you to do it alone."

It didn't. In fact there was a student who turned up late. But it did make me realise. After that first three painful minutes, I realised I could do it.

The night previous to this. I'd had the mother of all strops. I made noodles. And listened to my favourite Amy Winehouse songs. Over. And over. And over.

Sometimes I think I enjoy floundering a little. Not the actual floundering. But somehow plodding through. The plodding through amuses me IMMENSELY.

I get knocked down.

I'M NOT GETTING UP AGAIN. I GIVE UP.

ARGH!

It's times like these all you want is junk food. And cheap alcohol. And you nearest dearest.

And it's times like this where your emotions get so on top of you that the slightest STUPIDEST things remind you of people.

And this isn't heartbreak. It's just pride.
Take off this make up.
Make some food.
Right as rain. But since when has rain been right?
Rain's only good when you're happy. So maybe I need to be happier.

Bring me happiness. In a jar. I'll keep it in the fridge. And spread it on toast when I'm feeling down. Have a slice with some tea.

And then sleep. For a bit. Wake up. Feel good. If I can pull myself out of bed.

Not a miserable thing that. Having to pull myself out of bed. In fact I just like sleeping. It's pure laziness that.

I miss that I can't even go to the pub with anyone and rant this shit out. The handful of people I felt I could ask don't even bother to text back or have to have things their way.

I CAN'T BE BOTHERED WITH YOU. I know I should. And I've tried. But your true colours are ugly. Yes I've seen them. With your dumping me for some guy who's CLEARLY not interested. Or your difficulty in walking 10 mins for me. You guys look after number one. Like mummy and daddy told you to.

Thing is. You can't all be selfish bastards and expect much back from the world. The world will tell you to fuck off.. Just like you did two minutes ago. And about a half an hour before that. I could go on...

So here I am. Off for some pot noodle and House. After I rid myself of this mascara-tear stained face.

Rant (number one.)

Well it's been one of them days. I shouldn't be doing this but I am. It's in my nature to be stupid like this. And panic. Well. I only panic sometimes. When it's not really needed.

I feel like a pot. Full of memories. But when I say that I don't mean in a "Ah I remember that. Oh how I miss it."

It's stupid stuff aswell.

Like just now. I texted a certain man. A sexy man let's say. And he said something, which although he didn't mean in anyway, that made me think of a time when I got hurt. Real bad. With words.

First crush. I'm not gonna say love. That's too dramatic. It wasn't love. It was a really bad crush.

And he told me that he didn't like me anymore because I'm fat. I wanted him to die. I think a little part of me still does. Not so much for the actual line. But more for how absolutely shit he made me feel.

Oh that was a real memory. I felt in my stomach the exact feeling. But worse than that, the fear of it happening again.

But it didn't.

On to other stuff. Recently I've been thinking about Karma. And Sod's Law. Because I'm adamant they're linked.

Karma. I do good. Good happens to me. Simple enough right?

Sod's Law. I see something. Or feel something. Anticipating what will happen. Whether a plan will work. Or an idea will become a reality. I think good and hard. I like the details. I like the feel of the whole thing. THEN. It stops. Dead in the water.

Which takes the piss out of my life. To be quite frank.

And that's the story of my life so far. I'll let you know if it changes.


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

There's always a first...

Hello!

This my friends is my FIRST blog.

Well on here anyway!

So give me a while and I'll get something interesting up.

Ok?

Love you(s)

x