MT's thoughts on all kinds of stuff.


Monday 31 October 2011

Hitting him when he's down.

I haven’t been being anywhere near as sadistic with N as usual lately, for a lengthy list of reasons which I will probably cover in another post.
We are both viral at the moment, though he’s definitely worse than me. This has probably made him tetchy, but he managed to really irritate me this morning. As he also annoyed me the night before last this was not the brightest of moves. He compounded his error by not seeing why I would be pissed by his actions.
So, when the plumber had left today we staggered to bed for an hour or two of much needed restorative dozing. During a short conversation I looked at him and suddenly thought ’You know, if I set about him now, while he’s feeling so ill he’d really suffer’….. and lo, my base nature won out. He just looked so victim-like and helpless, which I never usually get from him so it was very tempting.
So, to paraphrase I put him on his stomach, stripped him and welted the Hell out of his arse with a very heavy hardwood paddle that he detests. His throat was too sore to even yelp with any affectivity, which was oddly pleasing and mock worthy. However hard I whacked him all I could hear were these tormented little raspy croaks and moans. That simply awakened the sadist in me and made me enjoy bruising his arse up even more.  He was crimson, very swollen and bruised by the time I’d finished, it was pleasant (for me).
Then of course a kindly soul would probably have let him sleep, but his cheeks looked so appealing that kindliness went out the window so I shoved him on his side (see how considerate and kind? I didn’t make him bend over, I let him lie comfortably on his side. Am I not saintly?) and basically shafted the living fuck out of his bruised little arse. It was so hot his cheeks were actively uncomfortable on my thighs to start with. This too was pleasing (for me).
I have never once seen him so pathetic and helpless.  Ill and shaky and devoid of energy, there was wonderful whimpering and some really satisfying snivelly type noises, and he still couldn’t make any serious noise because of his throat.  Every now and then he’d have a coughing fit which I quickly realised made his muscles contract so I soon got into a rhythm of shafting his arse really roughly every time he coughed. He looked a broken little heap of helpless loveliness.
I finished buggering him, many orgasms and somewhere between fifty and seventy minutes later, (I know this as my alarm went off at the wrong time as the clocks have gone back here and I hadn’t altered my phone so my alarm inconveniently went off at the wrong time) and laid there with him impaled deeply for another fifteen minutes.  He didn’t have the energy to do anything but lie there occasionally whimpering.  
I graciously told him I’d excuse him arse to mouth as I didn’t actually want him to suffocate – ‘then who would irritate me and make tea’? He gave a timid little croak that I took for gratitude. It could have been hatred but he was so wretched by this stage it was impossible to discern much without an effort.  He looked really rough.
Being rough with him while he is so ill was really enjoyable.  I think we can safely say my sadism remains intact despite less outing than usual.

Happy Halloween everyone.

Sunday 23 October 2011

The sum of my parts.

I am doll eyes
Doll mouth, doll legs
I am doll arms, big veins, dog bait
Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, they really do
Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, but I do too
I want to be the girl with the most cake
I love him so much it just turns to hate
I fake it so real, I am beyond fake
And someday, you will ache like I ache
Someday, you will ache like I ache
I am doll parts
Bad skin, doll heart
It stands for knife
For the rest of my life
Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, they really do
Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, but I do, too
I want to be the girl with the most cake
He only loves those things because he loves to see them break
I fake it so real, I am beyond fake
And someday, you will ache like I ache
Someday you will ache like I ache.

 Doll Parts by Hole.

_______________

I put a thread up on the FL O/p group regarding ‘theme songs’ yesterday. It’s a thread we’ve done before but it’s always fun and revealing, so as we have so many new members in the two years since last time we did it I thought I’d start anew.
In the course of this I linked to the last thread, and had a leisurely read through while I was at it. My own choices were Weak by Skunk Anansie, Born to Fight by Tracy Chapman, and Chinese Burn by Curve. Conspicuously absent though was Doll Parts by Hole. I can only assume I was having one of my phases where I misleadingly think I have evolved and moved beyond such things.  I’m adorable really.
My relationship with this song for the best part of twenty years means it deserved inclusion on the theme songs list, and this was noticed (you people are astute). I don’t like the fact it speaks to me and for me so well, I want to be a fuck sight shinier and more wholesome than that… but there it is.
Let’s start with the chorus shall we?
"I want to be the girl with the most cake"
This is self-explanatory; I want. I crave, I desire, I’m hungry, there are things I just long for. I don’t like settling without trying. My redeeming feature is that I am very easy to please, but perhaps counterintuitively that has never made me feel content to just put up with what anyone else says I ‘should’ do or have or want.  It’s also part of that childlike thing I referenced in my Innocence post.  I like cake so I’m having a big tea party, because I can have one now, and no one is going to stop me without good cause. No one is going to stop me being happy any more Motherfuckers, and if you try you’ll reap what you sow. The choices are sit in the lovely sunshine and have lovely cake with me, get out of my way and leave me alone, or get in my face and see just how much damage I can do with a teapot. I crave and I am driven to get as close as I can to getting what I really deeply crave.


"I love him so much it just turns to hate".
Not ‘hate’ in the literal sense (mostly), but I know sadism looks a lot like hatred sometimes. And for me the big sadistic stuff comes from him being mine, all mine, mine to do with as I will. He’s cake. The more he’s mine, the more I love him, and the more I love him the more I want to hurt him just because I can, because he's mine. My desire to hurt him comes from the fact he’s mine, and that is intertwined irrevocably with love for me.  Screwed up? Most definitely. I doubt you are surprised.
I love fiercely you see. In all ways, not just O/p or other kinky shit. The levels of fierceness that come out in me regarding people I love are overt, and sometimes these are pretty, pleasant passions of which people approve, and sometimes these are brutal in their ferocity. When I love I will go to any length to protect and keep safe and well. I’ll love you fiercely and joyfully and without much of a self protection buffer. People generally nod along at this in theory but the practice can cause overt disapproval.
And with N, my love sometimes morphs into ferocity anyway. Slashing and bruising and kicking and beating him is so much more fierce, more passionate, more intense, more painful, more full of love, and rage, and pain, and claiming, and authenticity because he is mine, and I love him. I couldn't do that unless he was mine.
"I fake it so real, I am beyond fake"
No, this isn’t an admission that I’m actually a male scuba diver from New Zealand, called Zach. That would be less messy, and at this stage probably pretty generic for the internet.
I don’t fake it in the sense of lying but my authenticity is rooted in being ‘fake’. Bear with me. I’m damaged goods. I nearly called this blog ‘Screaming Scars’ rather than ‘Sparkling Scars’ but then my natural urge to make a bad thing good (ok, and not sound like a total emo twat, despite this post with it's broken doll photos). And in a way that small choice is a good example of my authentic ‘fakeness’. I’m naturally Polyanna-ish, and I naturally want to be ok. That’s my nature. The effects of my nurture however fly in the face of that. It’s a dichotomy that defines me really. Being me is tiring sometimes - I doubt that surprises you either.
Being saturated in excessively destructive stuff from as early as I can remember means therefore that everything I have ever been has had that tingeing it. There is no sense of ‘me’ to look back to without that, ever. So I have no idea where the effects of that end and ‘I’ begin, and as such I just am what I am and I can't untangle anything. I had to learn almost Every. Single. Thing that most people take for granted too late, without help, and out of context, and unnaturally systematically, and therefore to an extent everything from there on is 'fake'. But I’ve faked it for so many years now and internalised that fakeness so deeply I have gone way beyond fake. I’m me now. However I got here, I am Me.  I fake it so real I am beyond fake and no one is telling me I don’t exist anymore.
"And someday, you will ache like I ache
Someday, you will ache like I ache"
So left to own devices I am fundamentally one of the most relentlessly happy people you will ever meet ... I feel these tremendous waves of joy that I don’t think most people do, quite regularly over the smallest things, because somewhere deep in my processing I’m comparing. I’m pretty safe! I have water to drink and food to eat! And it’s lovely food! Yum! I’m loved! I’m in a cosy house! I have a comfy bed to sleep in! People care about me! I’m warm! My babies are safe and loved! I have so many luxuries I can’t count them all! I am lucky lucky lucky! This is how my psyche processes the world, almost constantly. Give me the slightest reason to feel happy and I revel in it.
But the fact I compare, even subconsciously, means the other decaying, painful, dangerous stuff full of suffering and terror is still defining me, because as I tried to explain above, that was the base that made me, not an additional factor. So I ache. A lot. All the time. Even when I’m happy it’s there. It comes out in dreams, strengths, fears, passions, responses, abilities, weaknesses, in the very essence of who I am. And more tangibly it smashes me firmly and suddenly in the face several times every single fucking day. When I am knotted up in intense pain from old injuries that my body couldn’t manage any more I’m forced to remember them, the how and the why, and the fact that I am imprisoned forever in the wreckage. When I haven’t done something before and people look at me like a freak because they don’t understand that they learned to do it, and laugh and demand explanations. When I have to tell people some tiny fact that is unfortunately necessary and then they either want a backstory or make horrible  assumptions, that I then have to live with or rebuff.

So I ache. Physically and in myself, and I don’t think it can ever go away, so I get my Pollyanna on and make the best of it. It's what I do.
I’ve felt like a doll a lot over the years and not in a nice way. Dolls aren't real girls, they are subhuman  simulacra, and not usually very valuable. Doll eyes can’t cry, doll mouths can't scream, doll legs can't kick or run, doll hearts can't feel like real girls hearts do, and wasted emaciated bodies have doll like arms with big blue bulging veins that are ripe for bleeding. As an aside, now my body is not doll like in that way (hurrah!), I choose my multi-coloured hair and glitter because I feel more natural when I have pink hair than when it’s natural. As I said, fake is very much my natural state.
Doll Parts is a record of longing and determination that doesn't hide from the recognition of the core truth of what some of us are. We are broken, fucked up beyond repair, not pretty or perfect or particularly treasured, but simply the sum of our parts; our doll arms, and doll eyes, and doll hearts, and doll legs, and blue veins making up the whole. Yet still, despite all of it, we never stop wanting and longing and trying, and we just have to learn to manage everything. 


From Dirty Blonde, The Diaries of Courtney Love. Courtney's original scribbled lyrics to Doll Parts.
 

I want to be the girl with the most cake, and my scars are going to fucking sparkle, and I’m not going to hide.  I may not be a 'real girl' but that doesn't mean I can't have cake. Or a relationship that makes me happy, my way. Or a life - even if it has to be one with knives in it.

Friday 21 October 2011

Mistress' Little Helpers.

I’ve been pretty (read: very) unwell for the last three years. Longer really, but it must be about three years ago that the balance really tipped.
It’s had a huge impact on, well, everything really. Our relationship changed drastically and at one time I didn’t think we could survive it. But happily we did. It is still really hard sometimes, when I’m totally knocked off my feet and I can’t do anything. But as time has gone on we have started to learn to manage these times a bit better. It’s been a steep learning curve because neither of us were expecting to ever need such strategies or skills. N met a very active woman who was very capable, competent, large and in charge, not to mention seventeen years younger than him, so the idea that there might be times he would need to help me brush my hair, clean my teeth, stand, walk, eat,  do all sorts of very basic things, never really occurred to either of us. In hindsight I was naïve to not see it coming, as I’d been struggling on through intense pain and had bouts of debilitation that were incorrectly assumed to be injuries or more standard illness, but naivety or not, I didn’t see it coming any more than he did. It felt like it just crashed into our lives and wreaked havoc.
In terms of our power structure it has been the most trying challenge we have faced. When I get knocked out for a while, N by default ends up having to take charge of lots of day to day stuff. Were he of a submissive persuasion this may play out differently, but N is as dominant as they come so this is like giving a junkie a fix. He naturally but subconsciously starts to try to take control more widely, and it’s always when I’m at my weakest and is thus the last thing I need and feels like a betrayal. Doing all this also exhausts him as he has a business to run, an ill owner to try to take care of, a house to run, a family to care for, not to mention looking after himself. It’s been a huge trial for us both.
A wheelchair has been on the cards for me at times but I managed to avoid that, and via a combination of drugs, bloody mindedness and sports therapy I have improved immensely.
The amount of drugs I take is astronomic.  As I used to be someone who used medicinal herbal treatments and avoided scary things like paracetamol this is quite hilarious really.  I take a heavy cocktail of all kinds of stuff designed to stop my body staging a coup. The irony of the fact I can dominate almost anyone else’s body into submission but that my own rebels is not lost on me (my body is uber-dominant, heh).  
So there are the various daily drugs of various kinds, the steroids I take sometimes and have injected, and then the Big Drugs I take weekly. These have been causing hideous side effects in me ever since they started (they are chemotherapy drugs though very happily I don’t take them for cancer, but the side effects of the medication are similar whatever you take them for).  So for a long time now, the side effects of the Big Drugs have been so awful that it’s felt hard to see the wood for the trees, and the ill effects of the main problem were still there too…..
But suddenly, the last three weeks I have suddenly felt consistently better overall than I have at any point in the last three years. No big peaks, just a more general ok-ness. A while ago I was given additional pills to redress a significant imbalance being caused by the Big Drugs which was making me feel really bad, and my best guess is that this has finally tweaked the balance so the Big Drugs are working and not fucking me up.  Hurrah!
HURRAH!!
Keep everything crossed for me please. This time of year usually sees a sharp decline so I need this upturn to last. I’m also going to slow down a bit because I’m aching and stiff today but I think that’s just me over reaching and trying to do all the things I’ve been longing to do forever. I’m currently tidying and cleaning an reorganising the house like a woman possessed, and have made great progress so I’m going to slow down a bit. I’ve also had lots of days out, been swimming and cycling, painted, seen some friends, and done some of the other things I’ve been missing like crazy. The last few years have finally taught me some restraint though, and I don’t want to screw this up. 
Dear Universe,

Please help me out and make this last.

Many thanks,

Lots of love,

Me  xxx

Monday 17 October 2011

Another one of the clan.


Another ‘family’ member, S, has been down to stay for a couple of days. S & I go way back, having been very close friends for many years. We’ve worked together, partied together, been on adventures together, spent  many Big Times together, he was there when I last gave birth and was the first one to hold my baby (they assumed he was the Dad, and he’s her very awesome ‘Godfather’), his books are dedicated to me…. You get the gist, we are very tightly bonded and love each other to bits.
He’s generally just referred to as things like ‘my lovely boy’, but when he recently he described himself as submissive to me in certain contexts no one batted an eyelid as it's just accepted really. I love him very dearly and am fiercely protective of him, so I steer him a lot at times (sometimes very firmly).  We have our own way of relating that works really well, labels be damned. He refers to himself in charming ways like ‘my helper in things’.
Over the course of the last five years N & S have become close too which is really wonderful. While on the surface they have absolutely nothing in common apart from shared loved ones, there are some core similarities which they have slowly used to bond. They both have a love of people watching, excel at the double entendre, have a thoroughly filthy sense of humour, an overt love of having fun and partying, love good food and drink, like to gang up together teasing me, and revel in offering each other back up for their ‘demands’ (today for example they both contended that they ‘needed’ an £870 Vivienne Westwood jacket each ‘so I could have matching boys to take out and look hot for me’. Seriously). Watching them out together is a particular joy as they laugh constantly. They are both very funny people actually.
After a recent trauma in S’s life their relationship has become tighter, as N has very much ‘adopted’ S in a protective looking out for him role that I find touching.  
I feel so happy when I have them both together. We were out today, just shopping and having coffee and chatting etc, and I was really content all day. I just love having both my boys together.  One of my fondest wishes is to one day have all my core people together in one place. I would be so happy. We always come back to talking about the idea (todays imaginary ‘plan’ was that we buy a three storey house together and make N the property caretaker in his short sexy shorts and a tool belt. Meanwhile S & I are to work on projects together, and he can make the house all pretty with his awesome housework skills. I would feed everyone matriarch stylee, and be generally loved, adored and entertained. I think this plan is superb for obvious reasons).
But anyway, S is yet another member of the family. And having him and N together with me always makes me tra la la happy.
Tra la la.

Thursday 13 October 2011

100 facts about me.

1.       Autumn is my favourite season. I also have a deep love of snow.
(Taken by my house this week)
2.       I frequently wake up and don’t know when I am. Because I don’t know when I am, I also obviously don’t know where I am. I then have to work through my life chronologically until it all clicks back into place for me. It can be very pesky.
3.       My first labour lasted only 7 minutes.
4.       I can’t scream. That’s not a metaphor.
5.       If I lived alone I would very happily live without a TV.
6.       My jobs have included, gallery assistant, writer of various things for various people, market trader, waitress, barmaid, sign writer, publicity officer, operations manager for a transport company, creator of painted wooden furniture and various other items of this nature, college lecturer, hostess for Mongolian restaurant, researcher, artists model, running an educational outreach programme for adults, outdoor pursuits instructor (rock climbing mostly), tea & coffee merchant, working in various shops, maker of puddings for a high end restaurant, prison librarian, maker of jewellery…… and lots of other stuff (including some significant ones). I choose to see myself as diverse.
7.       My love for the ‘christmas’ season knows no bounds. Yo ho ho.
8.       Deer in the forest are rarely scared of me even though they run from other people.
9.       Early on in our relationship N once told me that if he ever succeeded in turning me submissive he’d give me the internet username Fucked Fairy, as apparently I look fairylike when he’s banged my brains out.
10.   For years I never ever slept properly. I was always partly awake and could reply to a conversation at any point. For the first time ever this is abating. It's nice. Restful.
11.   My best friends are a deeply diverse bunch of people but I love them all.
12.   I am a very extroverted Myers Briggs type ENTJ, which explains a lot. I fit the profile extremely tightly, which rather clashes with my desire to believe I’m a glorious snowflake.
13. I wasn't always camp. I just woke up one day and it happened. Be afraid, it could happen to you too.
14.   Greek food is my favourite kind. Dolmades, hoummus, and haloumi oh my. With retsina preferably.
15.   My most prevalent spelling mistake is to muddle up the homophones ‘affect’ and ’effect’. I find this embarrassing but still use them interchangeably all the time.
16.   My passport in not in my real name (it’s complicated, but legal). I am hoping to try to get it changed now though which is why it popped into my head.
17.   My sense of humour is very coarse at times. You're shocked I know.
18.   My sitting rooms are always purple, my bedrooms are always red, and my kitchens are generally duck egg blue. I nest.
19.   Nearly every time I eat I say thankyou to the Universe in my head.
20.   I am crap at learning languages.
21.   I am improbably fond of camping and can put tents up very speedily.
22.   I am named after my Great Grandmother. My middle name is the name of the Polish woman who sold my Mother Polish cheesecake when she was pregnant (really). Unfortunately the names sounded horrendous together in a weird, rhymey way so thankfully my Mother was persuaded to change the cheesecake woman’s name to the English version. Though I really dislike this name, at least it doesn't rhyme with my first name, which is something.
23.   I am overtly safety conscious in some ways. I’m a room scanner and I pretty much always have a weapon about my person.
24.   I am hyper orgasmic.
25.   I am very Pollyanna-ish, yet somehow very pragmatic and cynical at the same time. It is generally considered a unique blend - and I choose to believe charming.
26.   I am very poorly travelled.  
27.   I blame my tragic love of make up on the fact that I desperately longed for a Girl’s World when I was a kid and never had one.  Actually, this may also partially account for my morbid horror regarding decapitations too.
28.   I cannot ride a horse, drive a car (though I’ve owned several), play Scrabble on a board without getting very freaked out (this is new information), or juggle. I also quite often can't work my DVD player but I'm sure that's normal.
29.    I currently have three small canvases drying on the TV stand.
30.   I don’t have any pets of the non-human variety.
31.   I get high doing all kinds of physical stuff and I crave it like a junkie craves a fix when I can’t do it.
32.   I find it incredibly hard that my hands are no longer able to do what they used to. I still know in my head how to paint (or whatever) to produce what I want to, but there’s a system failure. It makes me sad and frustrated.
33.   I had a huge crush on James Marsters once. I must have been in my late twenties. There was a poster, ‘ironically’ on my loo door.
34.   I make awesome cocktails.
35.   I had incredibly vivid flying dreams for my whole life until a few years ago when they just suddenly stopped. I miss them very much and have not been as happy since they went away. They were problematic at times though, as for years I would occasionally forget that I couldn’t fly when I was awake and would just step off things. I had numerous accidents like this as a kid. The last time I remember doing it I was twenty eight and stepped off a bank/ ledge in the grounds of Cambridge University.
36.   I have a huge aversion to even thinking about The Lord Of The Rings books.
37.   I have a lot of framed photographs dotted around my house.
38.   I have a teddy bear called Fluffy Bear. He was given to me the day I was born and I have kept him. He has been on adventures with me and had to be hidden in a paper towel dispenser for a long time once (This did not appear to traumatise him, thankfully. Though he has never spoken about it so maybe he’s just repressing the horror).  Aside: The irony of the fact that as a young child I looked at this bear and said ‘I own this bear and it’s fluffy – I’ll call him Fluffy Bear’ and thirty plus years later I looked at N and said ‘I need an internet username for him. He’s a boy and he’s mine – I’ll call him Tiaras_boy’’ is not lost on me. I am at least consistent, yes?
39.   I have an excellent memory for song words. I often hear a song once and find I know all the words next time I hear it.
40.   I have a lot of qualifications but many are not particularly useful. Unless they are relevant I leave the vast majority off my CV on purpose to avoid sounding like too much of a twat.
41.    I have an extreme aversion to cherry pie filling. I was fed it in vast quantities for several months once and over twenty years later it still appals me. Just typing about it has made me shudder. 
42.   In a similar manner I once had to live on mashed potato sandwiches every day for six months. To this day I could write the definitive word on mashed potato sandwiches (and detest instant mashed potato).
43.   I have an obsession with notebooks, lists and charts that is the subject of much mocking. Apart from a couple of friends who I have converted. I’m working on the rest.
44.   When I was about 14 or 15 I decided to tattoo the legend ‘FUCK THE SYSTEM’ in block capitals on my right thigh. As you do. Having completed the first round of cutting and inking I suddenly had a flash of clarity on round two and managed to stop, sadly depriving the world of this radical political statement, and  my no doubt wondrous artwork, forever. I’m sure we all agree that it was a sad loss. To this day however I have what looks like a very odd broken vein on my thigh where the beginning of round two took. Not wishing to feel thwarted in my Statement Of Whatever The Fuck I Was Stating I pierced my nose instead.  That showed ‘em.
45.   I have some reasonable ink too, but not a vast amount. It’s all pretty discreet. My favourite is a labrys (axe).
46.   When I was young I wanted lots of children but no partner. Also to possibly live on a commune.  And to wander the Earth global citizen stylee.
47.   I have been vegetarian since I was thirteen or fourteen, for reasons far too lengthy to explain here.
48.   Yesterday I was thinking how much I’d like to sell the house and open a small gallery. I haven’t mentioned this to N.
49.   I have successfully brought two babies into the world.  
50.   I have lived in all sorts of places including a library, brothel, car, beach hut, garage, caravan, kid’s homes, squats, a caravan, a pool hall….. even a few houses.
51.   I have only three photos of me as a child. One is when I was a toddler and I have the most crazy red hair and am carrying a doll I called Hamble (after the Playschool doll) but who was named 'Black Dolly' by my Mother as the doll was indeed black, which was unusual in Britain in the early seventies.  The later two photos are aged six or seven and my hair is blonde.
52.   I have raised several kids in addition to my own.
53.   I have thousands of books.
54.   I had to have surgery on my jaw a couple of years ago. Before this it was constant awful pain and I could hardly open my mouth at all. The surgery was eventually successful, and nowadays I still feel an excited thrill every time I bite into an apple - it feels like an achievement.
55.   I have what is colloquially called a ‘patterning brain’. This explains a great deal about me.
56.   I left school shortly after I turned 13.
57.   I like the TV show Judging Amy and refuse to be ashamed of this despite the fact I clearly should be. Maxine rocks.
58.   I loathe housework. It sucks. I am therefore extremely glad to have a slave.
59.   I love cathedrals and intend to eventually visit every one in the UK.
60.   I love cities. I have lived out of Cambridge for four years now & I still pine for it. It still feels like home.
61.   I like Feel The Fear And Do It Anyway by Susan Jeffers. If I get fucked up it helps because for all it’s ‘Wow, Life, and flowers and sunshine and love!’ stuff, it basically says ‘Get off your arse and get on with things and it will be better than doing nothing’ which appeals to my core nature.
62.   I love my house to reek of essential oils and herbs and incense and candles, but it torments N’s sinuses so I contain myself, but pine for my home to be saturated with scent again.
63.   I love the ballet.
64.   I have technically had a ‘stroke’, having sustained a head injury that caused a brain bleed and made various abilities misfire. The most obvious sign is that I occasionally still muddle up words, but it’s mostly ok now. For years I made the words ‘dog’ and ‘radio’ interchangeable – ‘that radio is barking very loudly’. ‘Can you turn the dog up, I like this song’. My friends consider this freaking hilarious.
65.   I met two of my best friends because they taught me. I choose to believe this proves I am an exemplary student despite the vast amount of evidence to the contrary.
66.   I never drink ‘hot drinks’ hot, I have to leave them to go lukewarm first as it hurts otherwise.
67.   I newly fancy the woman from the Farrow and Ball shop in Cambridge.
68.   I often non consciously say ‘I want to go home’ in my sleep or when I’m distressed. I have always done this. I don’t know why.
69.   I once narrowly avoided getting arrested for using a crossbow on the land next to a hotel car park in Blackpool. The police officer let it drop after I threw a hot girl in a PVC and cat ears in his direction.
70.   I once tried to hang myself and the bar I had attached my noose (a dressing gown belt, such a cliché) to collapsed. I got the crap kicked out of me for breaking the bar, but overall I’m still counting this as a result. It could have been worse.
71.   I take photographs obsessively.
72.   I talk in my sleep. I sing too actually.
73.   I think I may have stumbled upon my half sister online, but I have never told her. And I could be wrong anyway. But aside from the hard stuff like names and dates, the similarities are so freaky you couldn’t make it up.
74.   I voluntarily went to church as a child. I liked it, but after taking confirmation classes I declined at the last minute finding some of the stuff objectionable. I like the Prayer of St. Francis though.
75.   I want a camper van
76.   I want to be legally called Katy Von Carnage. I think it suits me.
77.   I Want To Be The Girl With The Most Cake
78.   I was a Ring Master (replete with a top hat and fishnet tights) in a school play when I was eight. It involved faux ‘sexy’ posing like a ‘glamorous assistant’, introducing the acts, and wielding a whip.
79.   I was conceived on a notoriously dangerous cliff edge. This seems oddly fitting.
(This one)
80.   I was born on an island.
81.   I was once signed off work for two weeks with a really horrible bacterial throat infection,  was pumped full of antibiotics and ordered to rest. I was exhausted as I was working such extremely long hours so I left the Doctors, walked into a travel agent and booked a holiday to Tunisia leaving the next day.  I figured I could rest and recover in the sun as I so desperately needed a break. Then I got to the very hot country and developed a huge fever. I still remember being delirious and unsure if camels really existed.
82.   I won a country wide art competition when I was five. Talent baby.
83.   I’m a serious party girl when drunk. Give me enough booze and I decide that everyone I’m with needs more fun in their lives. There are whole years of my life that when I think back on them are from a physically lofty perspective despite my 5’4 stature, simply because I was so often busy dancing around on a table/ bar/ roof.
84.   If I was a Whedon character I would be a hybrid of Darla and Dru. And Tara, who is like the nice bits of me.
85.   A teeny part of me would really love to try heroin. Given my love of the highs of life I know I’d get hooked though so I won’t.
86.   Once, aged about twenty two, I sequestered myself in a caravan in the pouring rain, and read the complete works of Forster. I now have no bloody idea why.
87.   Compared to most people I drink loads of fluids.
88.   The best gig I ever attended was Skunk Anansie in about 1997-ish. And not just because Skin is one of the most shag worthy women ever either.
89.   The way crocodiles walk freaks me the fuck out.
90.   There are loads of things I don’t know about doing because I didn’t do them at the normal time, and then everyone expects you to know them because ‘everybody knows how to X’.  This makes me really uncomfortable.
91.   More than one of my ex partners have believed I was a supernatural being.  Snort.
92.   Today I am wearing my special Halloween knickers.
93.   When I urgently needed money while pregnant a few years ago I sold my piano, most of my valuable books, and loads of other things.  I therefore own very little that’s worth anything financially (other than my house and a few books)
94.   I have dreams about drowning that make me feel weirdly blissful and calm  – which is particularly odd as I especially detest drowning.
95.   There’s a work file on me with the legend ‘UXB’ scrawled on the front in marker pen.
96.   I like opals and moonstones.
97.   I detest the sudden Americanisation of British spelling.
98.   I play Tori Amos more than any other artist.
99.   I wanted to be a midwife once upon a time.
100.  The most interesting facts about me are not going on this list. You get the random stuff, you lucky lucky people.