Thursday, 28 May 2009

The messages continue to roll in...

Current mood:  content

...but I'm not listening.  Get a life, guys!  I mean, come on.  I know some of you think I'm being unfair to these blokes I don't even know, but please.  They can obviously read and write well enough to find me so why can't they just check their latest target is interested in Dating and Serious Relationships before they write!  And Elisabeth, I'm sorry if I came across as mean in my last blog, but doesn't this one sound kind of suspicious to you...

"hello there sweet
i was wondering if you would be interested in earning £200 a day only take up an hour or so of your time i hope your interested and give me a chance to explain myself :) xx"

No way am I giving him a chance to explain himself, desperate for money as I am.  I will jolly well just continue to find things to sell until I have nothing left before I stoop low enough to contact YOU thank you very much!

And then we get the sterotypical Myspace dating message that Bonnie described in her last blog comment...  The guy in question is proudly smoking in his profile pic, by the way, so I'm not surprised someone in a half decent photo looks 'hot' to him.

hey sexi ur lukin hot

where u from"

Um, can guys not even read the caption by my profile photo now?  Yes, I know 'Grottsville' isn't a real place, but it says London and South East.  Does he really think I'm going to tell a loser like him any more than that?!  Only two words I want to say to people like that - p*** off. >.<

End of subject, and let's hope they go away.

Today we went to Woodberry to look at more colours.  Well, my parents looked at colours.  I sat in my bedroom cupboard, wishing I was living there and could attempt some amateur voice acting.  Actually, I'm so tired from getting so little sleep each night I had a half hour nap!

They seem to have made some progress while I snoozed though, Mum proudly proclaiming she's "closer than she's ever been" to having all the colours sorted.  Meanwhile, I noticed a great big lump of blue paint on my purple wall.  That Craig is a useless painter, and yet David overpaid them so we have to wait weeks for them to finish their terrible work.  For instance, Craig has taken another week off this week for half term...and now that David's realised that, he's in no rush to look at colours and is trying to discourage Mum.  After all, we can't be in a situation where he has no excuse to be a wimp around the builders.

Then we walked to a little shop in Ealing Broadway to get some paint sample pots, and were just about to return to Grottsville to paint some boards when David's mobile phone rang.  The tiles for the front path had arrived at Woodberry (even though we were supposed to have received a call the day before they were delivered), so we had to go back to open the front door, since nobody's working there this week.

As usual, David had the wireless at the highest volume possible and wasn't speaking to us, so we misunderstood and thought it was the long-awaited tiling bloke who's supposed to be removing a tile from the fireplace.  Mum doesn't want to be around when her beloved fireplace is broken even further, so she asked if we could walk up to the charity shops around the corner from the house while David saw the man.  So even when we realised who had really rung David we stuck to our plan and walked up to the shops.

The £3 G3 "Tea Party" set rucksack had finally sold, and I was just a little upset, 'cause I'd been hoping the ponies to go with the set would re-surface.  I turned around to the 50p basket to see... A PONY!  But not one of the Tea Party Ponies...  An Easter Toola Roola.  She's in absolutely gorgeous condition with her ears though, so I couldn't bear to leave her.  She's up for re-homing, if anyone's interested.  Otherwise I'm sure one of my nieces will be happy with her.  Just as I was rummaging around for a 50p coin, one of the women who works there came out of the back of the shop with a stack of toys...including two more ponies!  Rarity (the 3-D symbol version) and Secret Wish.  Secret Wish has a bit of wild tinsel but apart from that they're in great condition.  The woman actually dropped Rarity on the floor before she reached the toy basket so I scooped her up.  "You like?" she asked me in broken English, handing Secret Wish to me.  (The charity shop is for a Polish charity and most of the people who work there are very friendly Polish women).  Anyways, before I could answer, Mum starts telling her all about how I love ponies and go around the charity shops looking for them.  We had quite a long conversation and the women who work there (along with a little girl who appeared to be a friend of theirs) were admiring the ponies and brushing their hair while I blushed bright red and Mum continued to embarrass me.

When I finally found the right change they put the ponies in a sweet little gift bag and we set on our way.  Baby Goody Gumdrop is STILL for sale at the smallest charity shop in the street.  I tried scraping at the purple on her face and it did seem to fade a little.  The orange just will not budge though, so I left her there again.  Mum fell in love with a teapot shaped like a church, and I asked her if she wanted me to lift it down off the shelf for her, but she said no.

Nothing at the last shop at all - we didn't even bother to go in, because we could see it was just furniture inside.  They did have a couple of boxes of bric-a-brac outside the door, but nothing of interest.

We had a nice walk back looking in the shop windows etc.  Just as we walked past the Polish charity shop the women who work there start waving at us and calling us back inside.  They've "found another one"!  This time it's Wysteria (the 'Favourite Friends' edition with the cascading symbols down her back leg).  Of course, I had to buy her, even though the pink streaks in her hair are a little faded.

They promised to look out for more ponies for me, so I shall be scared to go up there now.  Goodness knows how many fakies I will be guilted into buying!

I already have all four of the ponies I bought today, so if anybody wants them, I can probably be convinced to sell them, although right now they're giving me that pleading "Don't sell us - we're cute little plastic toys and need a loving home!" look.

On that note, I actually broke my rules and sold Baby Bridesmaid and Sweet Notes, by the way.  Right now, they're on their way to Ringlets from the MLP Arena.  I feel horrid, but I know she'll appreciate them far more than me, because I already have my own, and have nowhere to display them anyway.  And £14 is far more useful to me than a couple of duplicate ponies, I guess...

We walked back down the road to Woodberry, where we met David in the car.  Not before I saw a dead rat on the path covered in bluebottles, screamed, and ran out into the road though!  I wonder if that's what the dreaful smell under the floorboards was?  Those builders are so useless and haven't blocked up all the holes properly, so I guess a rat could have got in there and died.  There are so many rats here in London...

Oh, and just to make my Myspace joy complete, the loonies have come into my real life now too.  Some boy of about my age went jogging past me in the street outside Woodberry as I was about to get in the car (presumably also avoiding the dead rat), and wolf-whistled at me rather loudly and annoyingly.  Again, p*** off and let me get on with my life  - ALONE!!!!!! 

When we got back to Grottsville I found my other My Scene DVD had arrived.  (The Jammin' In Jamaica one came yesterday when I didn't write a blog).  Both work perfectly, so a great deal for 99p each including postage, I think.  This one is 'Masquerade Madness', and I was pleasantly surprised to find Ellis (or rather, Shane Meier) had a few lines in it.  I wasn't expecting that, and only really bought it on the off-chance, knowing I'd get to hear Kelly Sheridan in it anyways.

Okay, I think that's all for now.  Myspace appears to be playing up and has typed the last paragraph in a different font, or maybe just a different size of Verdana?  Either way it won't let me correct it...  Well, I'm exhausted so I'm going to see if I can get a bit of sleep on the floor.  Speak to you all tomorrow!  xxx

Monday, 25 May 2009

So where do I sleep NOW?

Current mood:  annoyed

David is graciously speaking to us again.  Nice of him.

So we decided to go to the car boot sale at Epsom, where Mum hoped to find a certain stallholder who sells cheap "stocking-sized stuff" (she wants to get ahead with Christmas for Emma's kids).

We all assumed that someone else had checked the Car Boot Calendar...but of course, nobody had.  And when we arrived at the field the boot sale was not there; instead, a country fair was taking place this weekend.  So we had to turn back to Grottsville.

It had started to rain by the time we set out for Taplow afternoon car boot, and the field was not as full as it should have been.  I also saw two kids with bags full of ponies, so as you can guess, I didn't find anything.  All I saw were a few lonely G3s, the G2 ballroom set and one poor G1 Cotton Candy.

Again, we returned to Grottsville.  I went to get changed into my uncomfortable "indoor rags" while David turned the TV on and started watching BBC's 'George Gently' on TV On Demand.  I returned and had to step over him in my ripped trousers (something I hate doing obviously) and crawl back to my corner of the floor.

For some reason, he found this particular badly-acted episode absolutely hilarious, even though Mum and I couldn't see the joke.  So he kept rolling over on the floor - the piece of floor I have to sleep on, that is - in what I can only describe as the "this carpet is very tasty" position!

I was getting sick of just seeing him rolling around belching loudly after all his sulking the last two days, but then one time after he rolled over to laugh so hysterically he re-surfaced to reveal a huge wet patch on the floor.

Yes, once again my slobbery father had drooled in what passes for my bed.   So now I'm sticking by my guns and refusing to sleep there.  I still have to eat, sit and live on the floor about 2' from the spot though.

David's answer is that I should sleep sitting up on the sofa.  Or go and sleep on an imaginary mattress up on Emma's bed (you know, where I couldn't sleep all those years ago when I was promised I could have it as my room because of the leaking roof!)  After all, he had to sleep sitting upright for several years.  No, he didn't.  He could have always cleared this place up and provided all three of us with beds!

Anyhow, so now poor Mum has had to move up to this end, meaning I'm now having to sit on the worn out sofa to finish off this blog, and my back is killing me.  I don't know how Mum sits up here surrounded by all her honestly can't move for fear of knocking something over or creating a landslide.

Mum is currently moaning about how hard her life is because she can't stretch her legs out properly.  Well, considering she's 4'10" and I'm 5'2", perhaps she can now start to understand how I've felt with my knees tucked up under my chin every night the last three months.  My knees are now so weak I honestly can't walk down steep steps without stumbling all over the place.  She was always telling me how lucky I was before because I've been nearer the radiator than her and she's in a draft.  Never mind the fact that I'm the one who's always too hot anyway! >.<

Well, maybe now I can actually stretch out for once.  We went to Woodberry (so much for David "never setting foot in the place again"!), and picked up the bag of wallpaper samples and colour cards that got left there on Friday.  But Mum was too hot and tired after the car boot to look at anything.  We were supposed to be going back later on but David decided to stay in the bathroom and then spend ages eating dinner instead.

I switched on the new mobile phone (the one Mum and I are supposed to be sharing) for once today so that we could find David at the car boot today and strange numbers keep ringing...even though I have given the number out to absolutely NOBODY.  David has made a couple of phonecalls to use up the minutes since I have no-one to ring and we couldn't get a "pay as you go" scheme, so I figure the companies he rang have passed the number on.    I think the lack of privacy in this day and age is awful.  Back in the old days you'd choose to be 'ex-directory' and nobody could get your number.  I just don't know what I can do about it now...  I hate hearing a blast of Mozart when I'm not expecting anyone to call!

And speaking of people invading privacy, here's another thing that's annoying me.


I've had three messages and a further seven friend requests just today.  I figure I've gone into some kind of search system now that I've turned eighteen and suddenly everyone thinks I'm an object to be dated.  Sorry.  NOT SO.  This ain't even funny anymore.  Hey, guys!  Maybe try reading my profile properly since it's so "cool".  I know I have to update it a little as it still claims I'm seventeen, but dial-up is useless for these things.  The 'Who I'd Like To Meet' section still stands though.  So please get the following into the cotton wool-type material in your heads if you can get those brains to absorb anything other than photos of women for a moment...

I'm off-limits.
I'm not interested in dating.
I would never meet up with a random guy from the internet anyway.
I'm not interested in dating.
I'm happy to be single.
I'm not interested in dating.
I would certainly never allow myself to be used in something you guys call a 'short term relationship'.
I'm not interested in dating.
I don't intend on having ANY kind of relationship while I'm stuck in England.  I can easily wait until I get to Canada, and if I never get there, I can wait forever.
I'm not interested in dating.
I usually dislike men in general anyways, so no, I'm not all talk when I say (repeat) I CAN WAIT FOREVER.
I'm not interested in dating.
I can see through you like a newly-cleaned window, so don't give me the "I just want to be friends" nonsense.
I'm not interested in dating.
Did I mention that I'm perfectly happy to be single?
I'm not interested in dating.
One of my favourite songs is Kiss Me Kate's 'I Hate Men' for a reason.
I'm not interested in dating.
I'm not being cute or playing hard-to-get.  Your messages make me feel sick.  I am not an object waiting for YOU to come and tell me I'm pretty or ask me to share YOUR bed.  I want my own damn bed having waited eighteen years, thank you very much.
I'm not interested in dating.
See I'm here for 'friends and networking', not 'dating and relationships'?

Phew!  Do you think that's clear enough for them?  Probably not, but a girl can dream, yes?  Now, just for giggles, here are the messages I received today!

(This one wins the prize for the weirdest and rudest?)
Hey there!
Hello...this is a rather random email so i do apologise but hope it at least brings a smile to your face!
I was having a rather drunken email conversation with a female friend yesterday...and we ended up 'debating' who's the stronger sex...of couse she argued for the girls...and her main point (much to her amusement) was that
"any girl could beat any guy with a simple kick to the balls"
and i reckon thats a load of rubbish....first off she reckons girls find it funny..and that one kick would have me down crying...i said i would never cry from one kick..hell i wouldn't cry even from a grab n squeeze! and even if some girl threatens to do it..she never actauly does it..they're all talk no action.
so basicaly now, as a dare...i have to message a random girl i dont know..and who says she would have the guts to kick a guy in the balls...and if she says she would..i have to actauly let her do it...seeing as rach thinks i would wimp out of it..i wana prove her no wimp..and i never wuss outa a what do you think? am i right? no girl would dare do it would she :P and even if she did..i wouldn't cry lol.

p.s my email is (*Edited out* - but hey, I can give it to you if you want to spam the freak for me!) if u wana reply to there
p.p.s you're really pretty :) hope u dont mind me saying :) (in a non pervy way!)

(This one wins the prize for being, um...the most txt msg-y?)
hey how r u doin? hope ur ok, just thought id send ya a message cos been lookin through ur profile and u seem really nice :) wondered if u wanted to talk sometime, if u do and u got msn add me (Again, address available to all who feel spam-happy! ;p)hopefully speak soon x

(And this one, well, I guess he wins the prize for at least attempting to cover his "I haven't actually bothered to read your profile properly and am only interested in your body" tracks?)
so many my little ponies wow x
hi hope u dnt mind me adding u , im chazz , cool profile

Actually I must say thank you to you guys.  I took great pleasure in deleting your messages so that the messages I've saved from my favourite actors are still at the top of my inbox!

Ooh, and finally, I took a load of new profile photos last night, and I just can't decide between them, so if some people would like to take a quick look through and comment on your favourites for me...just to help me decide which ones to keep and use as my default pic etc.  Thank you!

Well, I think that's everything.  My leg has gone to sleep now, so I can't write any more tonight.  I hope you have a safe journey to Vancouver tomorrow, Caroline.  You already know how jealous I am right now, so I'll just congratulate you one more time...  And sorry to those of you I haven't replied to yet (particularly Bonnie, Elisabeth, Laura and Lori).  I haven't forgotten you, but my leg is killing me so I'll have to write to you all tomorrow.  Thanks for being so patient!

Desirée Skylark  xxx

Saturday, 23 May 2009

"You are bad children, and so you will be punished!" said the little boy.

Current mood:  anxious

David (the little boy in question) has sulked all day, keeping us locked up indoors and blocking us from the bathroom, as though both Mum and I have wronged him.  He's severely depressed, don't you know?  So he's been lying in the bathroom doorway ever since he came out of there this morning (or was it this afternoon - he sulked in there 'til about noon).

He knew the laundry needed to be taken down the road after I splashed Mum's coat with apple juice yesterday.  Mum and I cleared the airer, packed the laundry bag and placed it in front of the loo, figuring David would see it when he went back in the bathroom - he spends hours in there every day, as you know - and remember he'd promised to go to the launderette.  He isn't talking to us and is pretending not to hear us when we speak to him so we couldn't ask him to go like any normal person would.

Well, would you believe it?  David didn't go back in the bathroom until 6PM!  That's a miracle for his standards.  The launderette shuts at 7.30 - last wash at 7pm.  As it happened, he came downstairs just in time...but it was too dark in the kitchen for us to do the ironing, so I had to lift the ironing board over all the junk into the lounge so we could do the job by the window.

He made his next appearance at 9.54pm to go to Tesco (which shuts at 10pm).  Of course it was too late so he came and shouted at us - yes, he can still open his mouth when he wishes to do so, he's not too "depressed" for that  - that we should have "told him the time; he doesn't have a clock".  He has a mobile phone and an alarm clock up there actually...  But that's not the point.  How were we supposed to tell him anything when he was refusing to listen to us all day?

During his 6pm-7pm bathroom session, the doorbell rang.  Mum hid behind the computer on the sofa, and I hid behind the lounge door.  I watched the bloke behind the door muttering "Nuisance!  Nuisance!" in a thick Irish accent while he wrote a note to stick through the letterbox.  I figured it was the bloke who smashed our gatepost a couple of weeks ago while driving out of our neighbours' garden.  He's already been back to the door a couple of times to discuss compensation, but David always ignores him.  But as I watched him I realised that he was too slim.  Mum joked that maybe it was the police finally arriving after yesterday's incident.

Anyhow, the man walked back to his car and three kids and drove away, and I went to pick up the note.  Ironically, there was a "News from your local police" pamphlet in the porch (we get one every couple of months - this one details how they've shut down both a cannabis factory and a brothel in this street in the last few weeks!  Pretty tame for Grottsville!), and I seriously wondered if Mum was right.

But no, the envelope came from Mark, David's brother, asking him to ring him back some time this week.  Kind of sad that my family are all so estranged that I don't recognise my own uncle and cousins, eh?  The Irish accent threw me though.  I know he married an Irish lady, and is obviously half Irish himself, but he always had a very deep English voice!

David always gets in a worse mood when he's spoken to Mark (his brother was "lucky to have two sons, while David only got a daughter", you see?) so this couldn't have come at a worse time.  Mum and I were also hoping to move house before Mark came pestering us again, so as to lose contact with him for good.  *Sighs*

On a lighter topic, I happened to notice Boomerang are having another Bratz weekend, so I actually taped "Fashion Pixiez" this time.  Janyse played Cymbeline in that movie, and I regretted not recording it before, so I was lucky to find out it was coming on just thirty minutes before it started!

Speaking of voices, I was devestated to find part of the Youtube videos of My Scene's "Jammin' In Jamaica" that I found have had the audio removed for copyright reasons, before I ever got the chance to audio record them.   So I decided to take a look on e-Bay and found a DVD for 99p with free postage!  So I bid on it and won!  I also got a My Scene "Masquerade Madness" DVD for the same price.  I'm not sure if Shane even starred in that one (Ellis's name is on the box, so I figured it was worth a 99p gamble).  Oh, well.  Even if he's not on there, I should get a bit of Kelly Sheridan's voice.  Possibly Mark Hildreth?  Oh, who cares?  As long as there's someone from Ocean or any other voice actor from Vancouver on there, it's well worth 99p in my opinion.

We also won a competition in 'Pretty Pony Club' comic yesterday - in case you're wondering why we had a kids' comic, I love those little fakie ponies (I had them when I was a kid, and couldn't get MLPs in shops), and sometimes buy the magazine when I can afford it if I like the free gift pony! - a Barbie gift pack.  Apparently, we'll be getting a Barbie Thumbelina doll, ballerina doll and two Barbie Petites Club.  Unless anyone here wants them (I know a couple of Barbie collectors, but not sure these modern types, are really their kind of thing?), I'll be giving them to Mum as extra Christmas gifts for Emma's kids.  The dolls haven't arrived yet; we just got a letter to say they were coming, along with the best bit of the package (as far as I'm concerned), and the reason I entered the competition...a Barbie Thumbelina DVD!  I hardly ever get to hear the Barbie movies, and Tabitha St Germain was in that movie (as well as several of my other favourite VAs).  It won't work on our DVD machine for some reason, so I need to wait for David to calm down and lend me his computer for an hour.  My disk drive is still not working properly, and only plays Region 1 DVDs anyway.

Oh gosh, and here's the worst bit about today.  With all this talk of Barbie movies, I finally decided to write something on Kelly Sheridan's page on Facebook.  I've been putting off doing so because I figured people might get some story on their news feed like "Desiree Skylark Alder wrote on Kelly Sheridan's wall", so I was kind of embarrassed in case anybody looked at my horrid fangirly message.  Instead of that, I find the WHOLE DARN MESSAGE shows up on everyone's news feed page.  So, in a blind panic, I deleted a load of people from my friends' list before they got a good laugh at me, and now I don't know what to say to them all!

Ugh, and finally, for those of you who want a good laugh at my idiocy, last night I made cheese sandwiches for Mum and myself.  So I'm there grating cheese in the dark kitchen, and can't really see what I'm doing.  You can guess what's coming, can't you?  Yeah, I flavoured our sandwiches with a load of skin off a knuckle on my right hand.  Ow, it hurts even now!  I've got two deep cuts, and I don't know if I should keep a plaster on to keep it clean (it's kind of hard not to use your right hand!) or to let the air get to it.  It is healing, but ugh, I hate these kinds of things.

Oh God, now I'm in a mess.  David's gone in the bathroom, so I can't get undressed or brush my teeth to go to floor-bed.  Mum's already asleep, so I'm getting no support from her.  She just grunted something about how she "told me to go to bed when the coast was clear".  Very helpful, Mum.  Not.  Now what am I going to do?

Best wishes,
Desirée Skylark  xxx

Friday, 22 May 2009

Waiting for the police to arrive...

Current mood:  scared
Just went to Woodberry where Craig had painted the picture rails and ceiling in David's office a really nasty green.  In fact, it's the green that we were going to use on the extension walls.  Quite clearly now we won't be doing so.

Mum and I admit to hating it, and there is NO WAY that David can possibly like it either, but he won't admit it, of course.  It honestly looks like vomit.

So we had a huge row, with Mum rushing to throw Craig's ladder down the stairs, and me holding her back, and David proclaiming he's not moving there again.  He's going to sell Mum's house again, you know?  (Even though he knows that's not an option, due to our financial problems)

So he just kept winding me up, telling me that I will "have to sleep on the floor for the rest of my life, and no, you'll never get your education!" among other things; the very things he knew would get my hackles up.  "And it's all 'ER fault!" He shouted, pointing at my poor addled Mum.  "Let me go, let me go!  Stop pulling me back!" She was screaching as I tried to stop her getting to the ladder.  "Yeah, push her down the stairs!" David shouted.

Of course, I didn't push her down the stairs, and got in fact got her back down safely without her damaging anything (despite the fact she grabbed a broom once she got into the hall, so I had to restrain her again!)

I started shouting at David about how ridiculous he was being.  "Yeah, of course you'll keep me in Grottsville!  You never even bothered to give me a bed all my life!  Or a chair!  I have to sit, sleep and eat ON THE FLOOR!  WITH INSECTS CRAWLING ALL OVER ME!"  This embarrassed David, so he announced that of course he wouldn't live in that house after my little tantrum.

He marched out the front door and since he's the only one with a key to this dump or a car to drive us back here, we had to follow like two little kids again.

He continued to be horrible to me all the way back about how I had embarrassed him.  He was going to "go for my throat AND knock my teeth out, so then I wouldn't have to worry about getting them straightened!!!"  The fight continued for another five minutes or so, and in the end I got hold of my bottle of apple juice, took the lid off, and attempted to throw it in his face.  Of course, since I sit beside him, it didn't really work, and instead went all over the car, and splashed back at Mum and I.  Now it's all over my coat sleeve, the bottom of my coat, and the back car seat and car ceiling.

David got really angry at this point, pulled up outside a pub over in Ealing, got out of the car and came around to the back seat.  I realised he was going to attack me, so attempted to get over Mum and out of her door, irrationally thinking I'd run away someplace, even though I have nowhere to go.  But she held me back and told me not to be stupid.

Even so, I got the door open, and somehow managed to vault out over her...but David grabbed my left hand and twisted my fingers back again, this time really hurting my pointing finger.  I can type with it at least, but it's still trembling (I'm guessing it's nerve damage or something?  Hopefully it'll just go away on it's own...)

So I turned around, kind of pinned over the top of Mum, and ended up kneeling on the curb half in and half out of the car.  David tried to get hold of my throat, but I twisted so he only got the left side of my neck and throat.  Then things went a little crazy. 

Mum's shouting "Let go of her!  Look at the state she's in!  LET GO!" and trying to pull him off of me, while I sobbed, "Call the police!" in my half-crazed voice.

The next thing I know, David suddenly releases me and dashes back to his seat.  I'm there crying, and Mum's hugging me.  I kind of clambered back into the car, and then we saw what David must have seen, and the reason he'd left me alone.  Two young men had come out of the pub, and are making their way to the car.  I don't want to cause any more trouble, so start shouting "DRIVE!" at David.  He starts the engine so one of the guys starts knocking on the window.  At first, Mum just says "Go away!  P*** off!" , then she winds the window down to speak to him.  "What's going on?" he says.  "GO AWAY!" David shouts.  "My daughter had a tantrum, that's all."  The bloke ignores him, and turns to me.  "Are you okay, darling?  Want me to call someone?" 

"No, I'm fine."
I sobbed, trying to keep as calm as I could.  "Are you sure?" he asked, looking concerned.  "Yes.  Thank you."  I stammered.  But I'm pretty sure they noted the car numberplate as we drove away, so now I'm worried the police are going to turn up on our doorstep.  David has already said he's "looking forward to going to prison after he punches the copper on the nose".  WTH?  What has this policeman we haven't even seen yet done to anyone? o_0

I'm a bit calmer having written all that down, but I'm really not sure what to do.  Well, there's only one thing I can do: stay here, and hope things improve.  I would just get the hell out of here, but I have no friends or relations who would take me in until I can get on my feet, and I really don't think going to a shelter would help me all that much.  I'm not experienced in anything (not even life in general), and I don't think I'm ready to make it on my own, so I just don't know where to go from here.

I'm sure David will calm down again, and then we can continue with getting the colours sorted out for Woodberry.  In the meantime, we just have to sit back and wait.  And my insect allergies are just getting worse and worse; my eyes are streaming, and I can't stop sneezing; not to mention all the muck in my throat and the rattling noise in my chest when I breathe in.  I know it's an allergy because it gets better when I've been out of this house for a while.  How can I survive keep sleeping on this floor with all these horrid insects?

Well, I'll leave you all alone now.  I didn't mean to make this such a long blog.  I really wish I'd never been born.  I fail when it comes to getting anywhere in life! :[

*Hugs hugs to everyone who got this far*
Desirée Skylark   xxx

Wednesday, 20 May 2009

Ick, I'm sick of all these insects!

Current mood:  sneezy

I finally convinced Mum to try clearing up some of the stuff that we brought here from my grandparents house back in 2005 and dumped in the kitchen, where it has stood ever since.  So all of a sudden she went running out in the kitchen, ranting at me that I was still "tapping away on the computer" (well, I'm afraid I can't switch it off that fast!) and returned with a huge yellow carrier bag on which she proceeded to dump a pile of Grandad's old collection ties.  In total, I would guess the three of us spent about four hours sorting ties, picking off literally thousands of insects, both alive and dead, folding them up, throwing out two huge black sacks of other stuff we uncovered when we removed the ties, and hoovering...and yet the place looks no different.

Alas, the rather sad collection of ties.  The carpet beetles and moths had enjoyed a feast - and I would estimate most of the damage had been done in the last six months, long AFTER we should have moved house anyway.  Mum is heartbroken, as she had to throw away the remains of some of her dad's favourite ties, and some that her grandad had passed down to him.

She had intended on keeping them in the huge wardrobe that her Great Great Uncle (Ron's father) made and is going in her bedroom at Woodberry.  But there's not a whole lot of point keeping things that look like this, is there?

And these are the horrible bugs who committed this awful crime.  (Look away now if you have any kind of fear of insects)

Now most of you know how I love most insects and even used to keep tanks full of the things up until about four years ago, but these little larvae make me feel so sick - both physically and mentally.  And these are the things that are crawling around in my 'bed' on the floor.  My nose and throat are so clogged up with muck now, which I think just about proves that these things that have been causing my breathing troubles every morning.  Just look at all that dust around the monster above; that's a combination of fibres off of the half-eaten ties and - to be rather blunt - insect poop.  That cannot be healthy to inhale every night on the floor, can it?

And, of course, they eat absolutely EVERYTHING.  I just hope my ponies - some of which were packed up over 18 months ago for the move that never happened - are okay in the library.

I'm just dreading getting into the suitcase that was BENEATH all of these ties, which was full of all Mum's stuffed toys from when she was a kid.  I wonder what state those poor things are in now?  We were just in time to save Mum's old hobby horse, 'Nobbin', thank goodness.  He's had a paper bag over his head most of the time for forty years to try and keep the dust off of his felt face.  Since he was kicked out of my grandparents' house, he's been propped up against the kitchen wall.  I ripped the paper bag off of his head, and found the first lot of carpet beetle larvae were just hatching out ready to start feasting! o_0  So we've cleaned him up and now he's in the lounge at the bottom of my 'bed'.  No doubt he'll fall on top of me in the night!

And then we went to Woodberry this evening, where they've replaced the picture rails with the correct style and at least they're straight this time.  But Craig has painted the ceiling in David's office a pale blue-green...  Um, yeah.  We have a very vague memory of mentioning we *might* paint the ceiling in that room a certain colour, but this has got to have been about five months ago.  That was one of the most random mistakes I've seen so far.

My room looks a lot better with the dropped ceiling down to the picture rail, because at least now the purple walls aren't reflecting off of the blue ceiling.  We sorted out a few more colours too.  Maybe we'll actually move by this Christmas?!  On second thoughts, maybe not.

We saw the Sickton family entering their house on the way down the street, and it just irritated me to see them grinning and having a good time.  I'm worried Mum and I will end up in prison if we finally move there actually.  Both of us start hissing and booing at them through the window as we pass, and I'm sure she'll have a shouting match with them before she's done, even if I manage to control myself.  I know it sounds awful of me, but I can't help but wish something horrible would happen to the whole family.  Why the heck should they be happy with beds and an area where they can go for a walk in a park whenever they want, while we're here, and I can't even leave the house when I want to or wear what I want at eighteen?  I can't have surgery to correct my orthodontic problems until I have a bed to come back to (we had to cancel ANOTHER appointment today, in fact - now we've been putting it off for an entire year, and David still won't tell them the truthful reason, so I know they're going to give me hell when I do get back there), or get an education.  Meanwhile, Sickton's daughter (who is about my age) has perfectly straight teeth, a choice of several beds at his house or one at her mother's house, and was provided with any education she wanted but failed, I suspect due to not studying enough.

I know what you're all saying; None of this matters, I'm just being a typical jealous immature teenager, but for goodness sake, I just don't want to wait one more moment for my life to start!

Hmm, "Good Morning Baltimore" reference there - I've been listening to too much Hairspray! 

And now the touchpad has packed up on me, so I'm having to use the mouse off of David's computer, and I just can't control it here on the carpet!  So I shall sign off now, and speak to you all soon.

Desirée Skylark  xxx

Sunday, 17 May 2009

This is pathetic.

Current mood:  excited

I seriously don't believe we will ever move house.
We've waited four weeks for the stupid builders to put the picture rails back up, and told them we wanted to be there to oversee the work.  David went to Woodberry this morning to meet the tiling man (who didn't show up, by the way.  This was the FIFTH broken appointment), and discovered the picture rails were up.

So they obviously decided to do the work on Friday, the ONE DAY they knew we couldn't be there!  And they've messed up yet again...

1) The pattern does not match the original OR the picture rails downstairs AT ALL.

2) All of them slope terribly.  On some walls the difference in height varies by 3cm from corner to corner.  It doesn't sound a lot, but all three of us noticed it as soon as we saw them, so believe me, it's obvious.

So now we have to contact the builder and no doubt David will be a wimp again and politely ask them to correct the problem "when they can".

Then, tonight, David went across to Woodberry again to talk to the neighbours about their picture rails (he was starting to doubt that the pattern had matched those downstairs - the neighbours say they should though, just as we originally thought).  Anyhow, during their conversation, it came out that one of the builders DRILLED THROUGH THEIR LIVING ROOM WALL while assembling our boiler.  This would have been right back last summer, when we weren't being allowed in our own house.  Mark and Sarah (the neighbours) never told us because they "didn't want to worry Mum - she had enough on her plate".  And we never heard a word from any of the builders.  I wonder what other damage they've caused that we never got to hear about?

On a lighter note, I've been doing some research on the old coin operated kiddie rides and found a documentary from 1975 which apparently features an interview with Edwin Hall of Edwin Hall and Co., the company who made a lot of my favourite old rides from the 60s and 70s, including my beloved 'Carousel' the horse who disappeared from Bognor Pier way back in 1996, and I've been unable to find any information on up until now.  I'm still waiting for the first video to load though, so I don't know if it will be of much use.  Anyone who's interested can find it *here*.

Ugh, I got an e-mail from some 25-year-old bloke in the area saying I looked nice in my photo, and he'd like to get to know me better.  So if I wanted to get to know him better, I should message him.  Why the heck would I want to get to know him better?  Perhaps if he was really interested in me as a person he'd bother to read my "Who I'd Like to Meet" section, and see the huge paragraph about how I am only here for Friends and Networking, and not interested in meeting random perverted men on the nearest street corner.  Just because I turned eighteen and I'm still single doesn't mean the rules changed.  I want a life, not a man.  Boy, some people. 

Hmm, what else is there to say about today?  I washed the ponies that I got for my birthday, ready for photographing, so I'll try to get those pics up online tomorrow.

Ooh, and I checked my favourite online TV guide and...


Just Season Two, actually, but since I have the DVD box set of season one, I'm happy with that.   They'll be repeating it one episode a week on Friday nights/saturday mornings at 2am by the look of it, starting in mid-June.  I am so excited to finally have the opportunity to see the end of the show, even if I do have to get up in the middle of the night!

I think that's all for now really.  Hope everybody is having a good morning/day/evening, depending where you live!

Best wishes,
Desirée Skylark  xxx

Saturday, 16 May 2009

My 18th Birthday

Current mood:  silly

As you all know, I wasn't expecting the best 18th birthday in the world, but it actually turned out a lot better than I had feared.

I'm feeling pretty lazy tonight, and listening to a CD (we'll get on to that in a minute) so I'm going to concentrate on thanking everyone who helped to make my birthday feel, well, like a birthday, by sending me so many online comments, messages, and forum posts.  I had approximately fifty of them, and am still working at thanking everyone individually, so I'm sorry if I haven't got back to you yet.  I love you all!

And then, on top of that, a couple of people actually sent me gifts!  I don't know how to thank you all enough. *Hugs*

Firstly, many thanks to Caroline for this cute little adoptable picture of Lancer and Rainbow Harmony.  Aren't they just adorable?!  They're now in pride of place in my Arena signature.

As far as offline cards go, I got nine.  My parents and sister didn't give me cards this year (Mum said it was a waste of money to buy a card for someone she sees every day anyway), so the cards came, looking along the mantlepiece, Mum's old penfriend, Karen (Emma's aunt, who sent me all those ponies from car boot sales and I have also corresponded with ever since), Mum's old friend, Aubrey, both of my grandparents' old neighbours, Great Uncle John and Great Auntie Madeline, Mum's cousin, Ruth, another of Mum's old friends, Marion, and David's old boss.  Kind of sad that I don't have any friends of my own in 'real life' so the only people who send cards for my 18th birthday are my parents' old friends who've I corresponded with via snail mail the last decade or so.  Oh, well.

But wait a moment, I only listed eight cards, right?  And I said there were nine all together...  Well, the ninth came from one of my online friends...but it came along with a gift, so perhaps it's best that I tell you about those now.

Firstly, the ponies...

The four ponies were from my parents (well, David bought them for me, but ponies always come jointly from my parents for some reason! ), and we found the SWEET SUNDAES AMUSEMENT PARK - yep, the Ponyville set that I thought I'd missed last year when I couldn't afford it - at a little toy shop later in the day...  But what are those little things in front of the G3 ponies?


They came from my mystery ninth card-sender...  Hannah (Seahorse on the Trading Post), I don't know how I can ever thank you enough.  Seriously.  So now my Dolly Mix set is complete, meaning I no longer have to cover the costs of more boxes of Dolly Mix, so my duplicate Star Songs and Scootaloos are now priced at £3.00 each if anybody's interested.

Here are my girls together in front of the TV.  They smile down at me when I'm sleeping, so it's a way of keeping some pony love around me even now that my entire collection is packed up for the move-that-never-happens.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!

On top of that, Hannah sent me £5 in my card which I spent towards the Sweet Sundaes Amusement Park...otherwise I probably couldn't have afforded it this time around either.  I also got some money from David and his old boss, Harry.

As for non-pony, non-money gifts...

Yeah, that's a useless picture, isn't it?  So here are some more detailed, close-up pics.

A book from Aubrey, and some pin-badges and a cute little compact mirror from John and Madeline...

...and a couple of really cute necklaces from Ruth and Marion respectively.

And finally I received a little package from Canada...


So YOU'RE the one who messed up my grammar in this blog entry.  *Continues humming "You Can't Stop the Beat"*  Uh...excuse me?  Did you say something?  Oh yes, the blog!

To those who don't know, Sarah has been telling me to listen to Hairspray for years (I've actually never even seen the film, or heard most of the songs! >.<)  I knew I liked what I had heard of it on 'Elaine Paige on Sunday', but it takes so long to load a single tune on dial-up.  Anyways, thank you so much for finally giving me the chance to hear the whole thing...a thousand times over or so.

And as for the necklaces, I was telling Sarah a couple of weeks ago how two of my necklaces had got broken. A stone had broken out of my heart necklace, so she sent me a replacement.  And the chain in this one actually threads through the frame rather than through the middle of the heart so it won't flip over anymore.  My second broken necklace was the blue one I bought at Accessorize last November.  Sarah tells me she searched everywhere for an identical - or at least similar - replacement for that one too, but Accessorize have changed all their designs for the new season, of course.  So Sarah got me the pink flower necklace instead.  And I'm so glad she did - it goes really nicely with my blue butterfly t-shirt, and I wore it all day.

Well, as most of you know, we were supposed to be in California for my birthday, but stuck in this country, I asked to go to the seaside - I love just watching the sea; seeing the boats and gulls, the whole atmosphere with the amusement arcades and candy floss/ice cream etc.  The traditional British seaside is literally the only thing I'd miss about this country.

So we went to Southend-on-Sea.  Some of the arcades were shut because it isn't peak time yet, of course.  I spent most of the day photographing rides, and walking around the shops.

Not many of the old coin operated kiddie rides that I remember being there, but there were a couple I can specifically recall riding in 1997 when we took Grandma there.

We took the train down the pier and went in the lifeboat museum, but the pier museum was shut.  I took a few photos of myself, but they're all horrid really.  It was very windy and my hair looks such a mess (not to mention my squinted eyes and that horrible cut on my lip), but hey, just in case you want to see me on my 18th birthday - or just have a good laugh...

Yep, those really are the best pics of me in Southend-on-Sea.  Oh, well.

I got a 'French Kiss' bubble bar in Lush.  I would have got the 'Sympathy to the Skin' hand and body lotion though, but I could have sworn the sample pot I got before Christmas was a hand cream, and that stuff's a little expensive to take a risk.  It seems they labelled my sample pot wrongly though, as they don't even make a hand cream under that name and never have done!

I got David some books in 'The Works' (It was also his birthday, he was 62), and also got Mum a CD for her birthday - well, when you're still stuck in an area where you won't leave the house alone, you have to plan in advance!

We drove through Canvey Island (the place where there are currently two swine flu cases!) on the way back, but the main ride place was all closed up by that point (sad, as I could see there were still a lot of really old rides beneath all the rain covers), but I spotted my "old friends" Pepper and Salt outside one of the arcades there.  I wouldn't get out of the car to photograph them (stupid, I know, I was hardly likely to catch the flu just like that - but I want to go back there anyway, so there's a good excuse) but I snapped this shot of them both through the car window.

It looks like someone has scraped their names off of their necks.  Poor things.  I think they're pretty old though (for ride standards anyways - I'm guessing they're 1960s?  Although I have no idea who made them.  The last time I saw them was 2003 and they had no sign of a manufacturer's name even back then...)

I'll have to get back there later this year and take better pictures.  They might be the last examples of their kind.   I wish I could work on my ride website, but it's hopeless on dial-up.

Well, I guess that's about all really.  Thanks to Sarah and her CD, this blog has taken me a grand total of two hours, but now the disk drive has died on me again, so I'm off to floor-bed.

Thanks again to everyone who helped to make this birthday extra-special! 

Best wishes,
Desirée Skylark  xxx