Archive for July, 2006

Post #209- Here’s Khlari!!!!!

Posted in creative / writing, me and my world, morecambe on July 19, 2006 by Khlari

Post #209- What an enigma, uh? No, as some of you who are well aware of my techno-bimbo-ness may be aware, it was an accident, not a great and secret mystical revelation…..I accidentally posted twice, then couldn’t get it off, unfortunately…….

So here I am, back in the land of the have-nets, unfortunately since someone (HWCBN) chose to carefully destroy my PC at the same time as wrecking most of the other objects and clothes that I was fond of, I have no choice but to blog sporadically at work. I’m also now in the position of having two essays to write for my MA, and no PC to write them on. That’s the same person (HWCBN) who promised to make it possible for me to do my MA as well……

It must be very nice to earn about 2 1/2 times what someone else earns, destroy everything they possess pretty much, not just things that please them, but work clothes and things they need to work, like a PC, without caring that it will take them years to replace these, if they ever can.

Then telling the police that they had purchased them, when some of the things have been in the person’s possession since they were a teenager, claiming that they were worth a tenth of what they really were worth, and not having made a move to pay any kind of compensation in any case.

Then, to cap it all, despite all this, being happily able to take someone away for the weekend, whilst the person whose things have been destroyed cannot even do the things that they need to do, let alone being able to go away anywhere……

Not that I am bitter and twisted at all…who would be in my position? It wasn’t enough that I should struggle in my badly-paid job anyway, at least I had the things that I needed to cope for the moment…. I just needed somone to go and destroy all of these and put me back to zero…..for the third time, having lost all my things twice already…it’s a learning curve I didn’t need to go down again, believe me……

No, it’s not hard enough to combine an MA with a full-time job and bringing up a small child, when the original theory was that I would not be working and there would be shared childcare….If I had the benefit of seeing into the future I maybe would have done it in London otherwise……..

I don’t want to be sour, it’s just hard to see someone who’s inflicted a lot of harm get away scot-free, while I, yet again, pay the price that I can ill-afford both financially and emotionally.

It seems that I have to get some kind of ‘punishment’ over and over- for being happy with Andrea, I have to lose everything else I have, whilst others have their cake, eat it, and deprive others of theirs for no apparent reason.


Goth is in the Heart (with aplogies to Deeeelite!)

Posted in creative / writing, gothic, me and my world, morecambe, pagan on July 19, 2006 by Khlari

When is a goth not a goth? What makes a goth? What makes a real goth?

Everybody’s favourite answer would be that a goth is the miserable one over there in the corner dressed in head to toe black, draped with silver and with that fresh-from-the coffin-pallor.

Not neccessarily.

I have been having this argument with Mr Spicy Cauldron for about 15 years now. I keep telling hi that he’s a goth, and he answers that it’s impossible, he still likes the Pet Shop Boys, he dresses in pastels, that he never wears black……. He’s still a goth. It’s not in the outward appearance, it’s in the heart. It’s an interior quality that shines through. Spicy Cauldron is a born goth. Put him with a table full of goths, and he likes all the same books, films, culture….and then cries…”but I’m not a goth!”. Give it up! It’s in your being and any amount of baby-blue hoodies won’t disguise it……haven’t you noticed how many of your friends are goths. Exactly how many times have you watched ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’? Do you or do you not possess the full collection of Buffy? And all the dolls for both the above??? Didn’t I notice that you’d even been listening to a fair bit of Siouxsie and the Banshees on the sly………

Goth is an attitude, a way of living and being. True, if you want to you can dress in black, wear vast amounts of silver and effect a cadaverous air…this just makes it easier for other goths to find you, it goes with the music and our natural arcane tastes, and also tmakes it easier to blend into the walls at the Slimelight or the Electric Ballroom….. But it truly doesn’t make you into a goth.

There are starnge individuals who believe that doing this makes them into an instant goth. Buy copious amounts of black, PVC and fetish clothing, stockpile white make-up and black lipstick…et voila. Add Absinthe to go….a packet-mix goth. But they are missing the point. Goth is not an external carapace, to be put on when you like. It emanates from inside. These sticky-back-plastic Blue-Peter made goths are just missing the point. They can sit there in their pan-stik and black lipstick with their piercings and dyed hair, yet the whole ethos goes right over their hollow little heads and hearts…..

There are many things that make up goth, and clothes maketh not the goth (though they are quite nice to possess). There are elements of many things- art, culture, music, fashion, philosophy, to mention a few. Get a table full of goths chatting and they won’t be discussing inanities. I once questioned a room full (16 people), and there was only one of us in the room not technically able to join MENSA- but being goths, none of us actually were……

Mr A is a case in point- he doesn’t ‘look like a goth’ 90% of the time- but he is, unquestionably, a goth. He wears shorts. He goes out in the sun, and gets a tan (shock horror!). He wears colours other than black! He doesn’t have loads of piercings, he doesn’t dye his hair strange shades……But none of this really matters because has that goth feeling, the goth etiquette if you like, just a goth way of being. It’s not something that’s learned, you just have it or you don’t. It can be further developed, true, but not if it’s not there in the first place…….

My friends Jack and Peggy in London- the least gothy looking Goths I know….One cool-Elvis lookalike, and one naughty Irish pixie, but goths all the same.

The moral of this story is that the guy with the black hair and lipstick may be nothing but an ersatz goth…but that bloke who looks like Tintin in the powder blue hoodie on the other hand……………………

Something for the weekend……

Posted in creative / writing, gothic, me and my world, morecambe, pagan on July 14, 2006 by Khlari

Just a quick post… alert the attention of anyone who’s not seen them yet to some very silly photos……

Nick and Wendi’s Wedding Photos on Jo’s stupendous blog, Musings of a Purple Dragon

and some more silly ones of the alternative 4th of July on Silent’s surreal blog……gorgeous one of Mr A and I looking for all the world like totally retarded hillbillies……

Look and laugh!

and a very happy birthday to—-oops, he-who-cannot-be-named

Posted in creative / writing, gothic, morecambe on July 11, 2006 by Khlari

Yep, today’s the 11th July, which by my calculations makes it the 39th birthday of he-who-cannot-be-named.

What a celebration it must be chez HWCBN……as in the last month or so he has managed to completely alienate himself and inspire feelings of near hatred in some of the people around him, what a joyous celebration it must be.

I forgot though, bah humbug that HWCBN doesn’t like birthdays…. I wonder if her remembers last year’s, on which in an attempt to make it for once a birthday he wouldn’t forget, organised a surprise birthday cake and set the living room rug and my own handbag on fire…… Mind you, I’m sure that he’ll have a birthday that he won’t forget this year as well. Alone.

Whereas on my birthday two weeks ago I was surrounded by fun and loving friends, having a silly birthday party which was even improved by the arrival of the police (and accompanied by mass giggles), due to his actions, what could have been a nice and civilised birthday for HWCNBN, with friends, family and fun, will now be another occasion to add to his litany of misery, another entry in his never-ending book of woe-is-me- sorrows.

It is never nice to be 39, I can’t say that it would be one of my favourite birthday numbers. But I know who I’d rather be on this day, surrounded by an aura of happiness and love, friendship and kindness, rather than imprisoned in a pit of sorrow of my own making. What goes around comes around, and any bad karma given out comes back in abundance on a day like this.

I’m just sure it’s a day that he is going to wish to forget, hoist by his own petard.

Very Fluffy Bunny………..

Posted in creative / writing, gothic, me and my world, morecambe, pagan on July 7, 2006 by Khlari

People are going to get really worried about me lately, reading my posts. They are all cutesy and happy, no sign of my usual bitter, twisted, morose, gloomy gothic self within them…….

Just to reassure you all, I’m still myself, I have not been upgraded by wandering cybermen, nor popped in for a quick lobotomy. It’s just that I’m struggling with an altogether novel concept here, difficult for a sad old goth to countenance, or even spell….it’s called happiness. For all you morose old goth-bats out there who glory in it, don’t worry. It’s not a dangerous communicable disease.

There. It’s out in the open, I am happy. How strange. I do have a vague recollection of feeling like this at some distantly-remembered point in the early nineties, back long long ago before life seemed to dump on me from a great height……

It’s novel, I am having difficulty finding the vocabulary for this without it becoming all sloppy and schmaltzy and sounding like something from the inside of a truly nauseous geetings card. Hell, on the tortured-artist-drowning-in-misery side I have more than enough, but on this unexplored dare-I-say-it ‘happy’ side, I am stumped.

I also have the kind of weird deja-vu side of it all. It’s been so long since I felt this, I am regressing to my former self. I’ll try to explain…..the last time I felt like this I was only about 22, so I am currently being a happy 22 year old again…’s like my brain has no experience of what it’s like to be a happy 39 year old supposed adult, so it’s instinctively decided that I have to go back to it’s last experience of happiness. The result is that I am behaving like some kind of superannuated giggly teenager. I’m not sure that it’s very dignified or mature walking around with a permanent adolescent smirk on my face, but I’m enjoying it anyway.

There are many reasons for this sudden and uncharacteristic burst of positivity. True, I do and always have had a natural smirky-perky-goth side under there waiting to break out, along with a natural inability to be a po-faced-take-myself-so-seriously goth, and a disturbing tendancy to grin and giggle at inopportune moments.

Then, there is Mr A. he just seems to awaken the silly, giggling schoolgirl heap within me, when I am with him I feel about 15. Perhaps because he appears to like all sides of me, he doesn’t cherry-pick the virtues he likes and moan about the rest. Maybe because we have fun…yes, that dusty concept, uncomplicated, silly fun. We laugh, we talk, we listen, we laugh again. We don’t seem to feel obliged to be serious all the time with each other, even though the way we feel for each other is serious, our life together is still fun.

Then there are my friends. I am surrounded by a group of people who make me smile, laugh, and giggle inanely, my friends. Either singly or in combination, they bring smiles to my face.

But I think that the main factor in in this bizarre fluffy-bunny happiness is called choice. (Thanks Mr A…..). I am choosing what I wish to do for a change. I am not living my life to make someone else happy and sacrificing my own happiness for them or for the greater good. I am not doing the ‘right thing’, making the supposedly sensible decision to make everyone else happy and content with my life, without me actually being happy myself. I am not doing the ‘Stepford Wives’ thing, fitting into anyone else’s expectations of the way I ought to be, and destroying my own personality in the process.

I am, at last, for the first time in years ignoring everybody else and their views of good, bad and what I ‘should’ do. I have made my own choice, I am doing what I want to do, and …………………..I am happy. I’m that happy that people have even started noticing how much better I am looking, how much better I am in myself, how my personality is back…..How whatever is going to be thrown at me in relation to my choices doesn’t really matter. It was worth it.

But if you see me wearing pastels, or anything with fluffy bunnies on, shoot me. It will be a mercy killing. There are limits you know………

New month, new life, new love, new beginnings…..

Posted in creative / writing, me and my world, morecambe, pagan on July 5, 2006 by Khlari

First post of the new month, and the first I hope of many looking forward to the future, not harping on the past. In the last month, partly due to the decision I made to split with my ex, and partly due to events that spiralled out of control, my life has completely changed, and I’m glad to say, for the better.

A month ago I felt trapped in a relationship with no personal liberty, no freedom to do what I wanted to or talk to who I wanted to. I was looking at buying a house with my then boyfriend, something I was unsure about to say the least.

The cracks had been there for a while. I had put a lot of my doubts down to an attack on him whilst we lived in London, but a year and a bit later and 280 miles away from the scene of the attack (and my friends and family), his paranoias were not receding, but developing a new life of their own fuelled by pure delusional psychosis…..

Everyone, every friend, was a threat, every place ‘dangerous’, every person a potential loser or drug-crazed maniac… was wearing. But home was no better. My cooking was not up to scratch, and even the way I loaded the dishwasher or filled the washing-machine was substandard…….. clothes apparently needed to be boiled and ruined, though never his….

Doing the MA, bizarrely enough, I am required to write…but even though he had been enthusiatic about me doing it, and in public showed off about my writing, actually allowing me to do it in private was another matter. Either people were invited over, or I had a constant stream of interruptions, whining, and sulking……a haiku would merit a week of sulks…..

In fact most things I did, or indeed that anyone else did, would merit a week of sulking and tragic hang-dog looks. I spent my entire life trying not to rock the boat or upset him. It was like permanently walking on eggshells…..

I tried to talk to him about this paranoia, this depression, this black raincloud that seemed to hang permanently over his head. I wanted him to address his crushing dependence, look at his self-obsessive behaviour where he always had to be the centre of attention, talk about his constant jealousy, discuss his hyper-critical attitude where whatever I did was not quite right, ever.

There were already doubts in there, but the debacle of Wendi’s ruined hen night (where he could not even manage to leave me alone in our own house with two women and four children for an evening) was the catalyst, quickened by his flat refusal to apologise yet again….. (I am a forgiving kind of person, if someone has truly made a mistake, all they have to do is say sorry and mean it………..)

Then the hangdog Sunday full of sulks, followed by the week full of sulks……he even the attempted to ruin the replanned hen night with boy BBQ, despite our friends going out of their way to include him, by staying at home and moping……

Then another Sulky Sunday, where he played the drama queen, not answering the phone, nor texts til I got to the point where I rang his father to reassure myself he had not hung himself in the stairwell, only to be told off and sulked at for doing so….. I couldn’t take any more. With the proviso we kept things civil until at least after the wedding (now only two days away), I wanted to go………

And what hell that decision caused for me and every one of my long-suffering friends………

But here I am, in July, and everything around me has changed. M_____ and I are living in Morecambe (which is where I had always wanted to live anyway, although I was told it was ‘dangerous’).

Without all that happened I would never have got to know Mr A, who combines perfectly being sweet, gorgeous, naughty, intelligent, sexy, and funny all together, and I don’t think I have been so happy for years. He is the boyfriend I never had but always wanted, and I don’t know how, having lived in the same places at the same times, how we managed to avoid each other all of these years…….. that said, it’s fantastic now it’s happening……i don’t think it would have happened, nor happened so fast without all the negative vibes that my ex was attempting to send flying around….We are like a pair of silly teenagers aged 38 and 39, and it’s amazing!

We are leading a chaotic, higgledy-piggledy,unplanned, wonderfully free and happy life where he positively glories in me AS I AM. He likes my personality, the way I look, the friends I have and loves me for them, not despite them. He isn’t trying to change me, nor I him. He also cares for M_______, not because he feels he should, and in a dictatorial way, but because he wants to, and for the right reasons, and M_______ likes him.

It’s even more of a surprise considering that my pursuit of happiness only involved getting away from the source of unhappiness, I was perfectly prepared to become the scary maiden-aunt in the attic with 96 cats in order to achieve this, so the whole romance-with-Mr A has come as a complete surprise, what was damage limitation (leaving ex) has gone from negative hermitry (what seemd like the only solution) to a full-blown love affair (a completely unexpected bonus), and no-one is more shocked than I am, considering the negative way I had been made to feel about myself…..

M_______ has been wonderful, she is a little girl who has been through so much in her short life, and has just been through some more with impunity, she is reacting positively to the change in her life and surroudings, and I think I am blessed to have such a lovely, intuitive, and intelligent daughter.

I have had support and love, and I have realised how I have wonderful, gothic, chaotic, caring and lifelong friends around me in all of this, and how lucky I am to have all of this.

So when I woke up this sunny morning and looked out of the window across the bay, I thought what a lucky woman I was……. and how life is just beginning……….